Andy Burnham offers Scotland devolution deal in Motherwell
Calling Motherwell the ‘true north’ as he opened in Lanarkshire, Andy Burnham quickly moved to the line that mattered: ‘Devolution was never meant to stop at the doors of the Scottish Parliament.’ In Motherwell on 16 October 2026, the Prime Minister used a speech at New College Lanarkshire on the old Ravenscraig site to make a plain offer: more power for Scotland’s regions, less hoarding of decisions in Westminster and Holyrood, and a bigger say for places that have spent too long being managed from somewhere else. In the speech published by the UK Government, Burnham cast himself as a Prime Minister shaped as much by Greater Manchester as by Westminster. That mattered. This was not a routine union speech. It was an argument that people in former steel, coal and mill towns already know by feel: when jobs go and power sits far away, communities are left to carry the cost on their own.
Standing where Ravenscraig once stood, Burnham reached for the industrial history that still sits close to the surface in Lanarkshire. He spoke of a town that helped build Britain and was then left to live with the damage when the works shut. He paired that with Leigh, the former mining community he represented, recalling old miners still fighting for compensation and the empty ground left by Bickershaw Colliery. For readers from Teesside to Tyneside, this will sound painfully familiar. Whether the story is Ravenscraig, Redcar or a pit village still waiting for the next chapter, the pattern is much the same: wealth pulled out of a place, decisions taken hundreds of miles away, then years of being told recovery is just around the corner. Burnham’s point was that renewal cannot be done to towns like these. It has to be built with them.
That is why his speech was aimed at Edinburgh almost as much as London. Burnham praised the gains won since devolution - public control of water, public ownership of rail and free personal care - but argued that Scottish devolution stalled too high up the chain. Scotland, he said, had become one of the most centralised nations in Europe, with power stopping at Holyrood instead of reaching towns, city regions and communities. His answer was what he called ‘devolution by default’: not simply shifting authority from one parliament to another, but sending money, powers and responsibility further down. It was a careful but pointed intervention. Burnham did not dress it up as a constitutional fight. He framed it as a practical test of whether government really trusts places outside the capital.
To make the case, he leaned on inequalities inside Scotland rather than the usual Scotland-versus-England script. He contrasted better transport in Edinburgh with weaker links elsewhere, said empty shops sit at about one in twenty in the capital but closer to one in five in Dundee, pointed to Aberdeen’s uncertainty, and warned about places where the working-age population is shrinking because young people no longer see a future close to home. He used the starkest measure of all on health. Burnham said a man in East Renfrewshire can expect to live around seven years longer than a man in Glasgow despite only ten miles between them. He added that about one in six young people in Scotland are not in education, employment or training. For a Prime Minister promising ‘good growth in every postcode’, the message was blunt: postcode is still deciding too much.
The most grounded part of the speech came when Burnham returned to a 2023 visit to FARE Scotland in Easterhouse. What stayed with him, he said, was not a lecture on crime or policing but a very practical model of support: work with local employers, cover travel, make sure young people have the right clothes for interviews, and treat each person as a person rather than a case file. That fed directly into the line he came back to again and again: ‘names not numbers’. Burnham said Greater Manchester’s Live Well model grew out of what he saw in Easterhouse, and he wants that kind of bottom-up thinking to shape how employability, skills and local services are joined up across Britain. It was one of the strongest moments in the speech because it took devolution out of the constitutional clouds and put it back on the ground, where people actually live.
Motherwell was not just a sermon on how the state ought to behave. Burnham put real offers on the table. He said he wants to devolve employment support to Scotland in a form shaped with Holyrood, opening the door to what he explicitly called DWP devolution. He also said ministers are looking at how innovation, enterprise and employability funding could be pushed out further so regions can back their own industries rather than wait for Whitehall to choose winners. For places in Scotland that have too often been spoken about as if they are policy problems rather than economic assets, that is the significant bit. Burnham also talked about joining up colleges, employers, local services and work support so young people can move into new industries through routes that make sense where they live. The test now is whether the offer goes past warm words and into budgets, structures and local control.
He tried to show what that could look like in practice. Burnham welcomed a deal under which the Scottish Government would match the UK Government’s £10 million for two defence technical excellence colleges, one in the east and one in the west, saying the sector already supports 12,000 jobs in Scotland. He also pointed to support for Scottish shipbuilding, work to secure fresh investment at Grangemouth, and his push for public procurement that backs domestic industry instead of chasing the cheapest contract on the world market. That last point will ring true across the North of England as well. Burnham said that, as Mayor of Greater Manchester, he chose Alexander Dennis buses built in Falkirk for the city’s publicly controlled network because paying a bit more at home still brings wider returns to working communities. It was an old-fashioned argument in the best sense: public money should do public good.
He also linked the speech to bigger economic choices ahead. Burnham said he is working on a new deal for food and farming at the EU-UK summit on 20 November 2026, arguing that easier trade would matter directly to Scottish producers. He spoke about a £1 billion research and innovation push across the UK, while making clear he does not want Whitehall keeping a tight grip on every decision about where that money goes. Again, there was a familiar Northern argument underneath it all. The problem, in his telling, is not a shortage of talent in Dundee, Lanarkshire, Aberdeen or the Highlands. It is the habit of central government - whether in London or Edinburgh - of acting as if it always knows best. Burnham pointed to Dundee’s games sector, Edinburgh fintech, the space industry in the Highlands and Islands, and Glasgow firm Chemify as proof that the next chapter already exists if regions are trusted to back it properly.
The sharpest line of the day was reserved for both governments. Burnham said city region deals had moved things on but were no longer enough, and that Scotland needs more power at regional level if its towns and cities are not to fall behind as northern English mayoralties grow stronger. He wants the National Economic Council to meet the First Ministers and agree a new model of regional economic empowerment across Scotland, then asked John Swinney directly whether he is willing to push power out into Scotland’s regions as well. He wrapped it in the language of ‘problem-solving, not point-scoring’, but it was still a public challenge to share control. Whether anything lasting comes of it will depend on what happens after the applause. But the Motherwell speech mattered because it named a truth too many leaders still dodge. Places like Ravenscraig, Leigh and dozens of towns across the North do not need another distant rescue plan. They need power, investment and the respect to shape their own future.