Political memoirs, autobiographies, and biographies: What can and can’t we learn?

We are in an era where after a prime minister resigns or leaves office, we are almost guaranteed to see a best-selling autobiography on the shelves of bookstores across the country within a few years. Think of Cameron’s 2019 memoir For the Record, or Boris Johnson’s 2024 autobiography Unleashed. Even Liz Truss, with her 49 days in office, released a political memoir in 2024 titled: Ten Years to Save the West.

Beyond autobiographies and memoirs of recently ousted politicians, year on year we also see new biographies about bygone leaders. Nick Thomas-Symonds’ Harold Wilson: The Winner has been one such example which I have found particularly informative in recent weeks.

But with this increasing demand for autobiographies, and political memoirs seemingly nowhere near decline, we have to ask ourselves: can we actually learn from these, or are they just a money-making ploy?

Readers can gain valuable insight into how essential, pivotal decisions were reached, as well as understanding the decisions and personalities that shaped political eras

The answer is: it’s probably both. From one perspective, they provide opportunities for politicians to present their own version of events, shaping their legacy to some degree while making money off the unique individual experience in which they lived. It is for this reason that autobiographies are often criticised for being self-indulgent and omissive. Yet they can simultaneously be a benefit to us and the society that we live in, as readers can gain valuable insight into how essential, pivotal decisions were reached, as well as understanding the decisions and personalities that shaped political eras.

David Cameron’s For the Record is one instructive case of a political memoir being beneficial to understanding the times we live in. Whatever someone’s view about his premiership, elements of this book (particularly his account of the Brexit referendum campaign) offers insight into the internal logic and emotions which reshaped Britain and its place in the world in the last decade. Former US Vice President Kamala Harris’ 107 Days is another pivotal example, offering unique insight into the Democrats’ campaign trail in the election that resulted in Trump being elected for a second term, exploring key decisions and disagreements with colleagues which may provide more understanding as to why Kamala Harris lost the 2024 election. As such, political memoirs and autobiographies can be considered highly-regarded windows into the human dimensions of governance.

It is within this debate of whether political autobiographies and memoirs are useful, or just a way of making money, that we can see the political biography as a more distanced tool for understanding politicians. While perhaps more emotionally distanced from the subject of the biography, they are more often than not incredibly well-researched. Thomas-Symonds’ Harold Wilson: The Winner precisely demonstrates what a well-researched biography offers compared to memoirs and autobiographies: critical distance.

Autobiographies are tools for politicians to consolidate their own legacies and, indeed, biographers are also not immune to their own sympathies

Unlike the memoir, shaped by ego and the instinct for self-preservation, the biography is more accountable to the historical record, reconstructing Wilson’s rise through archival research and testimonies. The result is an account that neither overtly worships the subject or diminishes them, but rather objectively examines their time in office and the impact of their actions. Biographies therefore give you, the reader, the opportunity to assess their legacy.

Of course, neither genre is entirely without its limitations, and it would be naïve to treat either as a definitive account of the truth. Autobiographies are tools for politicians to consolidate their own legacies and, indeed, biographers are also not immune to their own sympathies. Yet, despite such flaws that we should be aware of, the appetite for political insight from first-hand accounts does not seem to be diminishing in a time where we are all trying to better understand the world we live in.

They provide invaluable evidence of how power is used and which pressures, emotions, and people are decisive influences on the decisions and actions that affect us all

Keir Starmer’s resignation has left many questions unanswered and, so far, the full story (from the prime minister himself) of what went wrong during his premiership is yet to be heard. In the years to come, we expect to see a memoir outlining, from his perspective, how and why the Labour Party turned against him, and pages revealing decisions taken and the calculations behind the policy reversals which damaged the government’s reputation. It is only a memoir that can reveal such information.

It is this that outlines why political biographies, memoirs, and autobiographies continue to matter. They provide invaluable evidence of how power is used and which pressures, emotions, and people are decisive influences on the decisions and actions that affect us all. As Britain navigates a period of profound political uncertainty, the memoirs and biographies that will inevitably follow will be valuable tools for us all to understand the era we are living through.