'Taking the Chiltern Hundreds' - what does it mean?
Former MP for Makerfield Josh Simons has resigned his seat for Andy Burnham, so why has Rachel Reeves offered Simons the ancient office of Crown Steward and Bailiff of the Chiltern Hundreds?
Walter Bagehot wrote that the British monarchy constitutes the dignified part of the English constitution, while the parliament constitutes its efficient part. It is no secret, however, that some procedural mysteries of the United Kingdom’s hallowed chambers are far from efficient.
One bizarrely inefficient aspect is the act of resigning as a member of parliament. Such an act is, in fact, so inefficient as to be technically impossible. By convention, and later by a resolution adopted in 1624, no MP may relinquish their seat.
In modern times, anyone being forbidden from giving up a job is quite obviously a problem for a free country. Even the King may abdicate if he so wishes, even if Edward VIII, later the Duke of Windsor, taught us that this was rarely an act to be taken lightly.
Similarly to the office of monarch, being a member of parliament is considered an honourable duty, not to be taken lightly. As such, the only situations in which that duty can be given up are death, expulsion, or disqualification. So, what is an MP to do if they really do wish to give up their seat? Obviously, death is out of the question, and any attempt to engineer an expulsion could lead to much worse consequences than political fallout, so the natural choice is to become disqualified.
Any student of the history of the United Kingdom will know that the monarch and parliament have a rocky past when it comes to their relationship. Representing such contrasting duties yet intrinsically linked, the two sides have long struggled to maintain independence from one another. To ensure this independence, it has long been forbidden for MPs to hold an ‘office of profit of the Crown’. In other words, they cannot remain in parliament while being employed by the Crown.
The act of becoming a crown steward was established as a manner of vacating a seat in parliament in 1740, when Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn inherited the crowd stewardship of the lordship and manor of Bromfield and Yale and asked the House if he could continue to hold his seat in parliament. The answer was ‘No.’
Since then, it has become common practice that any member of parliament wishing to resign must apply to the Chancellor of the Exchequer for a crown stewardship. Upon taking this office, the member of parliament is considered to be disqualified from sitting in the House of Commons, and has for all intents and purposes, if not in theory, resigned.
Two crown stewardships are regularly used to this day: the three Chiltern Hundreds of Stoke, Desborough and Burnham, and the Manor of Northstead. These offices are unpaid, but still considered to be ‘offices of profit’ for the sole purpose of resignation.
A recent example of such a resignation is that of Josh Simons, the former MP for Makerfield, who vacated his seat on 18 May 2026 in the hopes that Andy Burnham might return to the House of Commons to replace Sir Keir Starmer as prime minister.
It is perhaps a telling sign of the prime minister’s waning political power that he has chosen to allow such a thing to happen when he has several levers at his disposal by which he could prevent Andy Burnham’s return to parliament. Putting aside any attempt to exercise his influence over the NEC to push the committee to refuse Burnham’s standing in Makerfield, Starmer could simply instruct his colleague Rachel Reeves, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, to refuse any application to the crown stewardships that serve as esoteric mechanic of resignation from parliament.
It is undeniable that quitting one’s job as an MP is a rather bizarre process, so infuriatingly typical of an ancient, bewildering and sometimes catastrophically archaic system. Yet, the British people wouldn’t have it any other way because, if we’re honest, we know that a more efficient government would be awfully boring.