Even in their most difficult moments, there’s an aura of invincibility about the Conservative party. It is, after all, one of the oldest political parties in the world, if not the oldest – depending on whether you count back to the founding of the party’s current iteration in 1834, or the Tory party’s origins in the 1670s.
This has given political journalists plenty of time to develop hoary old chestnuts about the party’s admittedly impressive capacity to adapt to an ever-changing electorate. ‘The purpose of the Conservative party is to win power’ (and after the last 12 years, you’d be hard-pressed to argue what else it could be). ‘The Conservative party is an absolute monarchy tempered by regicide’. ‘The Conservative party is the most effective electoral force in history’. And so on.
When you’re told this sort of thing enough you start to believe you’re actually immortal. And then when a demographic bomb rolls your way, you might not be particularly motivated to throw it away – after all, what harm could the explosion do? You’re 180 years old! You’re the most ruthlessly adaptable electoral force the world has ever seen! You might be down for a while, but you’ll never be out! You’re immortal.

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