Labour Uses Biscuits to Explain UK Debt — MPs Lean Into Social Media to Reach New Audiences
A viral video by a Glasgow MP showing the UK’s debt-to-GDP ratio with custard creams and bourbons marks a shift in how lawmakers communicate economic issues.
A video posted by Gordon McKee, the Labour MP for Glasgow South, has struck a chord — using custard creams and chocolate bourbons to illustrate the scale of the United Kingdom’s national debt relative to its output.
The clip, just 101 seconds long, has racked up millions of views on X, underscoring a new wave of digital political engagement by younger lawmakers.
In the video, McKee explains that in 1994, the UK’s debt stood at roughly 30 percent of GDP — meaning the government owed 30 pence for every pound the country earned.
By 2008, after the banking crisis, debt rose to 60 percent and continued climbing through years of economic challenge.
Today, McKee says, the ratio sits at about 100 percent.
He warns that while a similar debt burden exists elsewhere — in countries such as the United States, France and Japan — the UK faces disproportionately high interest costs.
The metaphor turns abstract macroeconomics into a tangible demonstration: a pile of biscuits too large to ignore.
What might seem gimmicky is part of a broader shift within Labour Party.
McKee is believed to be the first backbencher to hire a digital content creator to craft high-quality, relatable short-form explainers.
Success has inspired others: another MP used 200 packets of pasta to illustrate inequality in incomes.
MPs across the party — including some ministers — are now experimenting with short videos on energy policy, tax, and government spending.
Party insiders note this reflects a concerted effort called “Operation Second Term,” aimed at modernizing campaigning and communication ahead of future elections.
Traditional pamphlets and speeches in Parliament are no longer the only — or best — way to reach many voters.
Younger audiences increasingly consume information on platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube Shorts, where a well-timed, vivid clip can reach hundreds of thousands, even millions.
For many in Labour, the appeal is clear: complex and often dry subjects like the national debt become accessible and shareable.
McKee acknowledges that such formats are vital if the party wants to engage outside the echo chamber of politically active voters.
The move opens a new front in British politics, where economics and public finance can be debated over biscuits, not just white papers.
As the digital campaign revolution gains traction, it may reshape how the public — especially younger generations — perceives national policy and political engagement.
The clip, just 101 seconds long, has racked up millions of views on X, underscoring a new wave of digital political engagement by younger lawmakers.
In the video, McKee explains that in 1994, the UK’s debt stood at roughly 30 percent of GDP — meaning the government owed 30 pence for every pound the country earned.
By 2008, after the banking crisis, debt rose to 60 percent and continued climbing through years of economic challenge.
Today, McKee says, the ratio sits at about 100 percent.
He warns that while a similar debt burden exists elsewhere — in countries such as the United States, France and Japan — the UK faces disproportionately high interest costs.
The metaphor turns abstract macroeconomics into a tangible demonstration: a pile of biscuits too large to ignore.
What might seem gimmicky is part of a broader shift within Labour Party.
McKee is believed to be the first backbencher to hire a digital content creator to craft high-quality, relatable short-form explainers.
Success has inspired others: another MP used 200 packets of pasta to illustrate inequality in incomes.
MPs across the party — including some ministers — are now experimenting with short videos on energy policy, tax, and government spending.
Party insiders note this reflects a concerted effort called “Operation Second Term,” aimed at modernizing campaigning and communication ahead of future elections.
Traditional pamphlets and speeches in Parliament are no longer the only — or best — way to reach many voters.
Younger audiences increasingly consume information on platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube Shorts, where a well-timed, vivid clip can reach hundreds of thousands, even millions.
For many in Labour, the appeal is clear: complex and often dry subjects like the national debt become accessible and shareable.
McKee acknowledges that such formats are vital if the party wants to engage outside the echo chamber of politically active voters.
The move opens a new front in British politics, where economics and public finance can be debated over biscuits, not just white papers.
As the digital campaign revolution gains traction, it may reshape how the public — especially younger generations — perceives national policy and political engagement.
