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The question of why the House of Lords should be abolished is a topic that continues to attract public and political attention in the UK. As the second chamber of Parliament, the House of Lords plays a key role in reviewing legislation, yet its members are unelected, which raises ongoing concerns about democratic accountability and modern governance. Critics argue that the current system is outdated, lacks transparency, and no longer reflects the values of a representative democracy. This article explores the main arguments behind calls to abolish the House of Lords, examining whether the institution remains fit for purpose in today’s political landscape.

Why the House of Lords Should Be Abolished: A 2026 Perspective

Look, I’m going to be straight with you. We’re living in 2026, and Britain still has a legislative chamber where 800-plus unelected people get to influence our laws. Yes, you read that right. Eight hundred. The House of Lords is larger than the Chinese National People’s Congress—and that’s saying something.

This isn’t some dusty historical quirk we can laugh off at dinner parties. These people are making real decisions about your rights at work, your housing, your kids’ education. And you didn’t vote for a single one of them.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

As of January 2026, there are roughly 799 sitting members in the House of Lords. Compare that to France’s Senate with 348 members, or India’s upper house with just 245 members for over a billion people. We’ve got more legislators per capita than almost any democracy on earth—except they’re not accountable to anyone.

Think about what that means practically. Right now, there are 272 Conservative peers, 185 Labour peers, 184 crossbenchers, and a smattering of others. The average age is 71. Two-thirds are men. And 92 of them—yes, still, in 2026—inherited their seats because of who their great-great-grandfather was.

The Hereditary Peers Farce

Here’s where it gets properly ridiculous. In December 2024, Labour introduced the House of Lords (Hereditary Peers) Bill to finally kick out those 92 hereditary peers. The bill went through endless debates—51 hours over nine days in the Lords alone, with 146 amendments tabled. Why? Because the people being asked to give up their inherited privileges fought tooth and nail to keep them.

The bill’s still ping-ponging between the Commons and Lords as I write this in early 2026. That’s right—we’re asking permission from unelected aristocrats to stop giving seats to unelected aristocrats. The irony would be funny if it weren’t so depressing.

And get this: while that bill was crawling through Parliament, Prime Minister Keir Starmer appointed around 60 new peers. In December 2025 alone, he stuffed 34 more people into the Lords—25 Labour peers, five Lib Dems, three Conservatives. He literally replaced the hereditary peers before they’d even left.

The Patronage Problem

Speaking of appointments, let’s talk about how people actually become Lords. The Prime Minister essentially hands out seats like party favours. Sure, there’s supposedly an independent House of Lords Appointments Commission, but here’s a telling stat: since 2016, they’ve recommended just seven appointments. Meanwhile, Prime Ministers have created 165 new peers during that same period.

Boris Johnson was the first PM to completely override the Commission’s advice, pushing through Peter Cruddas in 2020 despite objections—a man who’d donated over £1 million to the Tories. This is the system working as designed, folks.

Even Keir Starmer, who once called the Lords “indefensible,” has been adding peers at a clip. Number 10’s justification? They need more Labour votes to counter Conservative dominance in the upper house. So we’re stuck in this endless arms race where each government adds more and more peers to get their agenda through.

What the Public Actually Wants

In June 2025, YouGov polling for UCL Constitution Unit asked people what they thought. The results were pretty damning:

79% supported limiting the Prime Minister’s power to appoint peers (once you exclude the “don’t knows”)
71% wanted the Lords capped at no more than 650 members—the size of the Commons
72% supported an independent body that could block dodgy appointments
Only 3% supported the government’s plan to just remove hereditary peers without other reforms

Here’s the kicker: 56% wanted to both remove hereditary peers AND limit prime ministerial appointments. The government’s approach? Just do the hereditary bit and leave everything else broken.

The Cost to You

It’s not just about democracy—it’s about your money. Peers can claim £361 tax-free for every day they show up, plus travel costs. Between April 2019 and March 2020, the Lords cost £17.7 million in allowances and expenses. The average peer pocketed £30,687.

Think about that next time you’re filling out a tax return. You’re paying people who you never elected to delay laws you might desperately need.

The Geographic Problem

Here’s something that doesn’t get enough attention: 44% of peers live in London and the South East. Newbury, where I’m writing from, has better representation than entire swathes of the North. Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland—massively underrepresented. The Lords is essentially a London club with delusions of national representation.

Labour’s 2024 manifesto promised to “improve the national and regional balance of the chamber.” Great! Except they haven’t actually done it. They’ve just added more people to the pile.

The “But What About Expertise?” Argument

Look, I hear you. People always say: “But the Lords provides expert scrutiny! Seasoned voices! Thoughtful debate!”

Fine. You know what else provides expertise? Hiring actual policy advisers. Having robust committee systems. Consulting specialists. France manages with 348 senators. Germany’s Bundesrat has 69 members. Somehow they muddle through without 800 unelected legislators.

And honestly, let’s be real about the “expertise” argument. About 30% of peers were politicians before joining the Lords—mostly former MPs. As the Electoral Reform Society puts it: “Peers are more likely to have run a palace than have helped buildOneONE.” This isn’t diverse expertise; it’s recycled Westminster insiders.

The Church of England Seats

Oh, and we haven’t even talked about the 26 bishops who get automatic seats as “Lords Spiritual.” In 2026, the only other country where religious clerics automatically get legislative seats is Iran. Let that sink in.

During the hereditary peers debate, Baroness Harman proposed an amendment to remove the bishops’ automatic right to sit. It was withdrawn before debate. Because apparently we’re fine with state religion having guaranteed influence over secular law.

What Actually Needs to Happen

The Electoral Reform Society and others have been shouting this for years: scrap the whole thing. Replace it with a smaller, elected chamber. Maybe 300-400 people, elected through proportional representation, serving fixed terms.

Make it represent the nations and regions properly—a genuine forum where England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland can work together. Let people actually vote for who scrutinises their laws.

Will it happen soon? Honestly, probably not. Labour’s officially committed to abolishing the Lords and replacing it with an “Assembly of Nations and Regions”—but not in this term. Every government for the past century has promised Lords reform. Tony Blair’s 1999 act was supposed to be “phase one.” We’re still waiting for phase two, 27 years later.

Professor Meg Russell from UCL’s Constitution Unit warns this might be our last chance for a generation. History suggests if we don’t fix it properly now, we won’t get another opportunity for decades.

The Bottom Line

Here’s what it comes down to: in 2026, you can’t vote out your representative in the House of Lords because you never voted them in. You can’t hold them accountable because they have seats for life. You can’t even limit how many there are because there’s no cap.

They’re debating workers’ rights, housing policy, your kids’ education—massive bills that affect your daily life. And the whole system runs on prime ministerial patronage, party donations, inherited privilege, and geographical lottery.

Does that sound like democracy to you?

The House of Lords isn’t some charming British eccentricity. It’s a relic that’s actively holding us back. Every other modern democracy has figured out how to run an upper chamber without giving unelected aristocrats lifetime legislative power. France, Germany, Australia, Canada, the United States—they’ve all managed it somehow.

Honestly, the question shouldn’t be “Why abolish the Lords?” It should be “Why on earth are we still tolerating this in 2026?”

The government’s making tiny incremental changes—removing hereditary peers, maybe adding a retirement age—while the fundamental problem remains. Eight hundred unelected people with lifetime appointments and zero accountability.

That’s not a second chamber. That’s a scandal we’ve normalised because it’s been around so long we’ve stopped noticing how absurd it is.

Quick Facts for Your Next Argument

Issue	Current Reality
Size	~799 members (as of January 2026)
How they’re chosen	Appointed by PM, inherited, or Church of England bishops
Electoral accountability	None—seats for life
Average age	71 years old
Gender balance	71% male
Geographic balance	44% from London/South East
Cost per peer	£361/day tax-free attendance allowance
Total cost (2019-20)	£17.7 million in allowances/expenses
Comparison	Larger than China’s NPC (only legislature bigger)
Public support for reform	79% want limits on PM appointments