2026 NEW YEAR SPEECH
Good morning everyone, and happy new year!
The start of a new year always invites reflection. On what’s changed. On what hasn’t.
For many people, that reflection brings mixed emotions. Hope, certainly. But also uncertainty. Because while change is constant, the pace of change now feels relentless – and for too many people, it feels like something that happens to them, not with them. All too many people stuck; left behind as the world speeds up.
I want to start with a story – one I’m sure many of you have heard before. A story that I was told by my friend, Mel Dyke, here in Barnsley.
Arthur Scargill was in Downing Street, meeting the Prime Minister, in the middle of one of many tense discussions between government and the miners’ union. During the meeting, an aide came in with an urgent message. Arthur excused himself and left the room.
When he returned, the Prime Minister asked what could possibly have been so important as to interrupt a meeting with the Prime Minister. The answer, the story goes, was simple: a miner’s wife hadn’t received her coal allowance for the weekend.
Now, the story has probably gained a good amount of colour over the years. But the exact truth matters less than why the story is still told. It reflects something people understood then – that power was close enough to reach out to. That when something went wrong, there was someone at the other end of the phone who would listen, take responsibility, and who would, could make change happen.
Today, that sense of connection between people and leadership, between people and power, has fractured. And in its place has grown distance, complexity, and uncertainty. More people shouting but fewer people listening.
Today, for many people across South Yorkshire, life feels more exposed. Employers are often large organisations headquartered elsewhere, often overseas. Supply chains stretch across borders. Decisions are taken within systems that are hard to see, let alone influence. Local newspapers are thinner in print and in readership. Local institutions are stretched. Local spaces where people once gathered naturally, have disappeared or changed beyond recognition.
When something goes wrong – when the bus doesn’t arrive, when the high street struggles, when a service fails – people are often left not knowing where to turn. We’ve all been there; phone numbers that lead nowhere. Letters unanswered. Email inboxes that – might – reply weeks later with carefully worded explanations, but no real answer. Apologies, but it’s someone else’s responsibility, and no, you can’t speak to them.
And over time, that experience changes how people feel about the system itself.
Frustration doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds slowly. In missed connections. In rising costs. In the quiet erosion of places and practices that once gave life shape and routine and certainty, and safety.
People feel it on their commute. They feel it when regeneration is promised but never quite reaches their high street. They feel it when decisions are made elsewhere, by people they will never meet, using logics they are never invited to understand. They feel it when services are reformed, but change never comes.
People in South Yorkshire are patient. But patience wears thin when responsibility is always somewhere else and when no one seems prepared to stand up and say: this sits with me. That’s my job.
To understand why that matters so much, we have to look honestly at what has changed.
For much of the last century, communities like ours were held together by strong formal and informal institutions. Secure businesses and industries rooted in place. Trade unions that provided protection and gave people a collective voice. Local government with real capacity. Community spaces – working men’s clubs, churches, pubs, libraries – that reinforced and reflected shared expectations of behaviour and provided shared space for relationships to flourish.
Councils alone were responsible for generating energy, water and sewage, leisure centres, schools, colleges, roads and public transport. As Steve calls them, the good old days.
These institutions did more than provide services and jobs. There was real power there, within and across communities. They acted as anchors. They absorbed shocks. They gave people a sense that change could be managed collectively. That there was a common experience to living and working here. That power was responsible to people.
Jobs were more secure. Houses were homes, not assets. Services were closer. Social norms and expectations were clearer. People were held back from extremes not by force, but by expectation – by the influence of neighbours, colleagues, and shared standards of behaviour.
BUT…
Over time, many of the forces that shape our society, and our communities have become bigger, more distant and move further away. While the institutions that were supposed to protect us, not just to provide the most threadbare of safety nets, but to provide us with a solid platform on which to stand, and flourish, have weakened or disappeared.
Today, economic power has become increasingly mobile, while communities often remain fixed. Industries can move or collapse quickly, while the people who have relied on those industries have little choice but to stay in place. Housing has become a commodity, leaving people less connected to place and less secure. Public services are stretched thin. Local and even national government carry less authority and less influence, even over those services and industries they are supposed to control.
At the same time, the pace of social and cultural change has accelerated. Communities are more diverse. Patterns of work and family life are less predictable. Fewer people stay in one place long enough to build deep local ties.
And into that space has stepped a different model of belonging. Online networks. Social media communities drawn from all over the country and all over the world. Algorithm-powered groups that offer certainty, identity, and affirmation – often without challenge or responsibility.
There was once a time when if you went to the pub and said the world was flat, you’d quite quickly be put straight. Perhaps particularly in Barnsley. Today, if you think the world is flat you’ll find thousands if not millions of people online who’ll not just tell you you’re right, they’ll tell you we live under a giant dome too. And the lizards are in charge.
Of course, many of the changes we have across society in the last thirty or forty years seen are not inherently negative.
In fact, for many people those changes, for instance those new online spaces and communities, have offered liberation from norms and values and institutions that stifled their imagination and limited their options. Technology has unlocked huge productivity gains. Ideas are shared more freely and more quickly.
But taken together, the shift from real world communities to online spaces, from shared experiences to individual ones, from relationships to processes, from simple power structures to independent bodies and complex market mechanisms, from local to national and national to global, have changed people’s relationships to the state, and to each other, have reshaped how people experience day to day life; how they understand community, how safe they feel and how they think about their own agency and power.
And responsibility for navigating that change has been pushed downward – onto people with the least time, power, or resources to navigate the increasing pace of change and uncertainty.
And when change feels constant, unmanaged, and imposed, when we feel exposed rather than protected, people look for safety. Safety in the easy answers of politicians who promise to turn back the clock; that power and strength are the same thing; that change isn’t inevitable.
We see that in America and here.
That impulse is of course deeply human. When people feel they have lost control over their lives, they look for protection and strength. And when traditional institutions no longer offer it, they look elsewhere.
At least for those of us who believe in the institutions of this country, of working together, of navigating and controlling, not stopping change, that’s where the danger is.
Because the appeal of simple answers grows strongest when systems feel unaccountable and unable to respond to the growing calls for change. When leadership feels distant. When no one seems able – or willing – to take stand up and take responsibility for the outcomes we see around us.
Too often, the systems we have built make leadership invisible if not impossible. That is the lesson of Barnsley, I think; the power of strong, clear-eyed and progressive leadership connected to its community, driving real and meaningful change and showing people that things can get better. Thanks to the thirty years of leadership shown by Steve Houghton, Barnsley stands as a beacon.
But all too often elsewhere, even good local leaders struggle to take back responsibility that has been moved out of their reach. Power is spread across layers of remote organisations. Those organisations pass powers to contractors. Contractors point to contracts. Decisions are outsourced. Accountability is diluted. And when things don’t work, communities are left navigating a maze of organisations that answer to profit, not people.
It can feel like a machine with too many cogs – all turning, but impossible to trace from input to outcome. When something breaks, no one can say clearly what’s broken, or who has the authority or responsibility to fix it.
And when machines no longer have anyone in control of them, trust drains away. People stop believing the system can work for them. They stop believing that engagement matters. They stop believing that change can be shaped, rather it must be endured.
That, then, is the defining challenge of today. For us to take back control of our own future. For governments, local, national and international to reassert control over that future.
And let us be clear, if we do not reassert democratic control, if we do not build new systems and structures that give power back to people, there are all too many despots, demagogs, and dictators willing and eager to step into that void.
And that’s why devolution matters – not as an administrative reform, but as a democratic one. Because devolution, done properly, brings power closer to people. It makes leadership visible again. It creates a clear line between decisions and responsibility. Devolution allows people across our communities, in places like South Yorkshire and across this country, to be heard.
Just as Steve has done over thirty plus hard-fought years in Barnsley, that visible, consistent leadership should be available to people across our country.
That’s the role of a mayor. That’s my job. To take responsibility. To look people in the eye when I make a decision. To stay present when decisions are difficult and to fix things when they go wrong. To listen, to remain accessible and visible enough that people know where to turn when they’re frustrated or let down. To walk the same streets, use the same services and experience this place, the same as anyone else, but then to fix the problems I see.
And I won’t pretend that’s always comfortable.
In 2024 we brought the Supertram back into public control after nearly thirty years of being run by Stagecoach; a big decision – an important one, but not an easy one. For most of the last 18 months we’ve done a good job. Fare evasion down, revenues up. And huge investment in the network.
But when things have gone wrong, it hasn’t been theoretical. I haven’t been able to tell people it’s someone else’s fault. And things have gone wrong. A month or so ago there were a catalogue of errors which meant tram services were severely disrupted for a few days.
But I didn’t get to shrug my shoulders. I didn’t get to say: “that’s not my job”. I didn’t get to point at someone else, as people before me did.
It meant I had to show up – literally standing at a tram stop in the dark, handing out leaflets saying sorry, we got it wrong, we hear you, and we’re going to fix it.
And that’s the point.
That’s accountability in action. And it’s something I’m proud to do. But it’s also the fundamental difference that Mayors and devolution can make.
Increasingly, we’re the ones taking responsibility, with a remit and a profile that allows us to take on that responsibility for change, locally and regionally, and even drive change nationally.
The leadership shown by Tony Lloyd, a mantel then passed to Andy Burnham, when taking back control of Greater Manchester’s buses, has become a national movement. Following their lead, it’s now exactly what we’re doing here in South Yorkshire, with the first franchised bus services in region set to hit the road in September 2027.
Bringing back public control of public transport doesn’t guarantee a better bus or tram service, of course. But it does guarantee responsibility is clear. Here, it means when things go wrong, action follows. It guarantees a response from the system.
It also fundamentally changes the incentives when we make investment decisions, forcing us to think beyond short-term, profit driven cycles, to build systems that last and that return value to taxpayers.
That’s why we’re investing over £600 million to improve reliability and extend the life of the tram network, while making immediate improvements now so people can rely on the Supertram every day, alongside a £350 million investment in our buses.
Of course, simply bringing public transport back under public control won’t change how people feel about their relationship to power overnight. And right now, we don’t yet have the funds or the flexibility to step into every space where I would like us to exert more control, where people are crying out for real change.
But, increasingly that same principle runs through everything we’re doing.
Last year, we made big, bold decisions – not because they were easy, but because people asked for them. Decisions that were important to people in our communities. Decisions about transport. About health. About growth rooted in place. Decisions that said: we will take responsibility locally rather than waiting for someone else to take action.
Those decisions were a starting point. This year is about turning at least some of them into reality.
As we move forward on our devolution journey, that means working differently across South Yorkshire. People don’t experience housing, transport, skills, and health as separate systems – and our approach shouldn’t treat them that way either.
That’s why from April we will take ownership of our Integrated Settlement; 24 different funding streams, over £1bn pounds across the SR period, all now under a shared system, controlled in South Yorkshire, giving us the ability to use our funding more flexibly, to move money between and across agendas, to solve the problems we see in South Yorkshire, rather than in response to challenges laid down in London.
That’s the purpose of the South Yorkshire Strategy too, which we we’ll publish in 2026. That work brings together the plans already in place across the region and focuses our collective effort on outcomes we all recognise in our own lives. It doesn’t replace existing plans or override local priorities. It strengthens alignment, shared learning, and collaboration.
Over the coming weeks, we’ll widen engagement with partners and stakeholders to refine the strategy and agree how we put it into practice – because lasting change only happens when people feel part of it, not subject to it.
Growth matters. But growth that happens to a place, rather than with it, doesn’t build confidence. That’s why our Growth Plan is designed to bring investment into our communities – developed in the open, with clear leadership and clear accountability.
Housing sits at the heart of that plan. Affordable homes, delivered locally, on brownfield land first. Because housing is not just about numbers. It’s about whether people can put down roots. Whether communities can stabilise. Whether families can plan for the future.
And transport ties it all together. In 2026, we will continue the development and roll-out of a new, unified brand for our public transport – a year in the making, but years in the asking.
A single, recognisable system that belongs to the people who rely on it. Clearer. Fairer. Designed around our lives, not the convenience of contracts, or in the interests of maximising profits.
Alongside the new brand, we’ll also launch our Transport Vision. We’re not looking at a detailed strategy document. It’s an honest outline of the options, ambitions, and opportunities for transport in South Yorkshire over the next decade and beyond. A document that says: here are the choices, here are the trade-offs, and here is what’s possible if we work together.
We will continue to press the government on Northern Powerhouse Rail and the White Rose Rail Plan. South Yorkshire must be a key part of any renewed vision for NPR, and in 2026 we will start to deliver the long-term change our region has called for, for far too long.
And at the centre of our transport the strategy is bus franchising. The move to a franchised bus network is a once-in-a-generation opportunity – to change how, where and when, services are delivered, of course, but more importantly, to change why bus services are designed and delivered in the way they are, and for whom.
In 2026, we will make real the promise of a people’s network. With a clear fare strategy. Data-led network redesign. World class design. And a culture that sees passengers not as a captive market, but putting their voices – our voices – are its heart.
Over the last few weeks we have frozen or cut most tram fares. Meanwhile the private bus companies in South Yorkshire have increased some fares by over 20%.
That’s not a coincidence. There are different economic models at play, of course, but ultimately we’ve taken a different decision on fares because the incentives in those two systems work differently; I need to show I’m listening to people across South Yorkshire, whereas the private bus companies are simply responding to market signals.
So when we bring buses back under public control we will apply that same logic, balancing out services, taking a whole system approach to where we invest, rather than simply doubling down on the most profitable routes.
Because as we take back control of systems across transport, the economy, health, and education, we can show that no one is written off. That community still means something. That people still have agency and power here in South Yorkshire. That someone is listening to the fears and frustrations of people who live here, their hopes and their aspirations.
That’s what leadership looks like in a time of change. And that is what I will continue to do in 2026.
Not pretending the world can be put back the way it was. Not telling people they’re on their own, nor that its someone else’s fault or responsibility. And not offering false hope by promising I can stop the world, and we can all get off.
Instead, taking responsibility. Listening. Rebuilding shared systems. Strengthening community. And making sure people know where to turn when things go wrong.
Restoring the Pride, Purpose and Prosperity of South Yorkshire, alongside and on behalf of the people of South Yorkshire.
That’s what mayors are for. To stay present when it’s hard. To act where others step back. And to build something better, and to build it together.
And if we get it wrong, you’ll know exactly where to find me. But if we get it right, we’ll be laying the foundations of a stronger, more secure, more connected, more prosperous South Yorkshire – for generations to come.