Some of my clever political friends have recently started to refer to me, wryly, as the secret and powerful Disraeli Lobby. This is because of my insistence – okay, mild obsession – that studying Britain’s greatest 19th Century conservative Prime Minister holds the key to the revival of the centre-right in this country.
Until now, though, I don’t believe I have ever cited what is perhaps Dizzy’s most famous line:
‘The Tory party, unless it is a national party, is nothing.’
The point the great Earl of Beaconsfield was making, is that conservatives should never seek to be a political movement focused on geographic areas or class interests, but must always aspire to govern for, and have a pitch for, the entire nation.
I mention this line because there is a growing tendency to believe that to win government, the right must completely abandon former blue-ribbon Liberal seats to the progressive left and concentrate purely on the regions and the outer suburbs.
‘The more fertile ground for our future lies in the Labor-held, working-class neighbourhoods of our major cities,’ argues Henry Pike, echoing the sentiments of many others. ‘The Liberal Party must reinvent ourselves as the party of the working Australian.’
There is truth to this and, of course, clear international precedents. Pro-worker conservatism is something both Trump-era Republicans and Boris Johnson’s Tories were able to pull off (although the latter famously botched it spectacularly afterwards).
It is also something, I might add, Disraeli first pioneered. ‘I have always looked upon the interests of the labouring classes as essentially the most conservative interests of the country,’ he wrote presciently. He was also quite successful at winning their votes.
However, there does need to be a strategy for competing in affluent seats as well. Not only on principled ‘one nation’ grounds. And not even because in our very urbanised country there is a certain electoral arithmetic which makes it difficult if you do not.
But also, because not doing so is not a long-term winning strategy. The anti-Bolsheviks fought bravely in the Russian countryside, but Lenin, Trotsky and his gang ultimately prevailed because they controlled key assets like the media, industry, and schools located in the great metropolises.
You simply can’t give up on the cities. Dizzy, who was very at ease in the clubs and soirées of London, would not have done so.
How to do this then?
The big debate of the moment has, of course, been ‘Net Zero’. This is also where the divide between the inner-city voter and elsewhere is perhaps the greatest. The issue has taken on an almost theological importance for various sides. It is a battle worth fighting, but also risks becoming a Stalingrad. To win, it also makes sense for the right to open new fronts.
In previous articles like, How the Right Can Recapture Greens-land and The Potential MAGA-Teal Alliance I have suggested where some of this new policy terrain might be found. It will not involve turning the centre-right in a pale imitation of progressives. But a rehash of the Howard era ideological framework will not work either. It will involve ‘new right’ policies.
But not everything in politics is about policy. One area the legacy right in Australian has for too long overlooked is the importance of image.
The success of the ‘Teals’ owed far less to any of their specific proposals – which were always very vague – and far more to the way they presented themselves as a new, independent, and fresh brand.
To beat them you must fight fire with fire. They won’t be vanquished through dry technical arguments. You cannot reason someone out of something he or she was not reasoned into in the first place.
The trick instead is to make their carefully constructed identity look tired, tawdry, and out of date; to offer something more attractive, distinctive, and exciting in its place.
The ‘new right’ in the United States was famously able to do this in recent times. There is a reason why everyone started using (and then overusing) terms like ‘aura’ and ‘vibe’ during the Trump era.
It was a genuinely new development driven by online influencers, podcasters, and others who were edgy, smart, and fun. This cool cultural space was one which Obama-era Democrats had once occupied, but by the time of Biden it had been well and truly lost.
The epitome of this triumph was the front page of New York Magazine titled The Cruel Kids’ Table. It was intended to be an unflattering portrayal of a pro-Trump election night party, but what it captured instead was a group of obviously happy, beautiful, and gorgeously dressed young people.
For our latest cover story, @BrockColyar reported on the young, gleeful, confident, and casually cruel Trumpers who, after conquering Washington, have their sights set on the rest of America: https://t.co/S8QuhS3VPp pic.twitter.com/zKptkMhn7T
— New York Magazine (@NYMag) January 27, 2025
Movements and events like this have the power to shift public sentiment far more than any carefully drafted political speeches.
The Australian right has not really fully grasped this, let alone mastered it.
We don’t yet have our Dashas and Annas. A Sovereign House or Dimes Square. There is not really a ‘scene’ here. Even locals that have genuine global cultural cache and are known by senior people in The White House, like Aimee Terese, are virtually unknown to Sky News Australia viewers and readers of The Australian.
Howard-era types also remain temperamentally very Gladstonian. They don’t really understand the point and power of aesthetics and indeed eschew it. They instinctively prefer the low-key and the no-frills. This has its virtue and its place. But it is inadequate and risks becoming dour, overly earnest, and lacking in the ability to move people.
Gladstone’s great rival, Disraeli – yep, him again – grasped that nations often need more than just sober reform in a sober manner; that a certain romance is not only advantageous politically but necessary for a people to achieve great things. In recent times, the American writer, Virginia Postrel, has made similar points books like The Substance of Style and The Power of Glamour.
This is not an argument that Australian politicians should become pretentious or snobbish, dress like dandies, or start referring to themselves Keating-like as Placido Domingo.
But it is an argument that there is no inherent reason that words like elegance, class, taste, and sophistication should not be inherently and naturally associated with the right.
Many successful conservative leaders have understood this.
Ronald Reagan famously brought a touch of Hollywood to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue which provided a welcome relief to the sweater-wearing Jimmy Carter. Robert Menzies always carried himself with an urbanity and charm which contrasted with his more unkempt and gauche ALP counterparts like Arthur Calwell. Donald Trump, who perhaps more than anyone understands the power of the brand and how to market a message, has made careful use of the dramatic and the extravagant.
The progressive left in Australia is also more vulnerable culturally than they realise. Many of them are crashing bores. They typically have the vacuous, censorious, and platitudinous attitudes typical of the worst modern corporate HR department. They lack true insight, imagination, and creativity. Many are no more than cringe-worthy Kamalas with Aussie accents.
The cultural commanding heights are there for the retaking for the right.
There is no reason we should not be able to do so. Let’s be honest: inner city conservatives are generally so much more intelligent, better looking, talented, and more interesting people than our opponents. Sure, our backs are to the wall politically now, but with confidence and the right approach and spirit we can rise to the challenge.
To adapt the lines of another famous British Prime Minister:
‘We shall fight them by throwing better dinner and cocktail parties. We shall fight them with better posts online on X and Instagram and TikTok; with greater style and swagger and flair, we shall never surrender!’
Dan Ryan is the Executive Director of the National Conservative Institute of Australia


















