First a peerage, now a plum job—why does Boris keep promoting Charlotte Owen?

Baroness Owen was just 29 when she was given a life peerage by the former prime minister. A year on, she has another new role. What makes her so uniquely qualified?

September 06, 2024

Whatever happened to Baroness Charlotte Owen of Alderley Edge? At the age of 29, her elevation to the peerage in July 2023 by Boris Johnson was quite the mystery. Now she’s got stuck into the role in earnest it feels about time to check on her progress in the House of Lords.

A reminder, if the name doesn’t ring a bell. Seven years ago, Charlotte was something of a blank sheet of paper: a York University graduate who had done little more than a series of internships. She morphed by a little-understood form of political alchemy from volunteering in a northern constituency office into a position as senior parliamentary assistant to prime minister Boris Johnson, where she would reportedly “arrange meetings, feed in information for Boris” and so on.

And then more alchemy: she was suddenly a peer of the realm, anointed by her mentor to make laws for the rest of her natural days. Journalists who diligently inquired as to what led Johnson to decide that Charlotte, of all the 29-year-olds in Britain, should be gifted such a legislative role, drew a blank.

Anyway, here she is and, in short, it’s been a busy year. Charlotte turns up a lot, says little and votes reasonably often. She also has a new job! But more of that later.

To break all that down a little: in the first three months of 2024, Charlotte claimed an average in attendance fees of £5,309 a month, which works out at around £64k a year, less parliamentary recesses. In all, she has voted 94 times, a loyal trooper through the lobbies in the Conservative cause. And she has made 11 spoken contributions.

Take January, in which she voted 10 times and claimed £4,788 plus £430 in travel expenses and is recorded as having made four interventions. A close reading of Hansard reveals that this amounted to repeating the words “My Lords…” four times in an unsuccessful attempt to catch the Lord Speaker’s eye: A for effort.

The following month she voted nine times, claiming £5,814 plus £425 in travel expenses. She asked two questions—one about whether universities were offering value for money and one about “nudity” apps. On the latter subject she also made a speech of 103 words.

In March she voted 11 times and claimed £5,327 plus £598 in travel expenses. She asked a question about the future of the BBC licence fee. She also made a 742-word speech about deepfakes.

Her official House of Lords page still has a blank page under the “Experience” tab, but records that she has, since late January, been a member of the Preterm Birth Committee, to whose proceedings she has made a modest contribution.

In addition to the above, she also made a maiden speech last November in which she promised to take her new role “incredibly seriously” and thanked Boris Johnson “who put a great deal of trust in me…. I will be forever grateful not only for this but for his kindness and encouragement.”

In the soon-to-be-discarded Ofsted parlance, I’m not sure we could call her “outstanding”. “Inadequate” would be unfair so early on in a new career. So, somewhere between “good” and “requires improvement”.

None of this is a slur on Charlotte Owen herself. She is obviously personable, and, if we must have a second chamber, it’s a good thing to have younger women asking questions about, for instance, period-related sick days.

But nothing about her performance over the last year answers the question about why on earth Johnson thought that she was so uniquely qualified to make laws for the rest of us. By peremptorily pitching her into the Upper Chamber, Johnson did his protégée no favours, and did even less for trust in parliamentary democracy.

Now for the job. Within the last month Charlotte’s register of interests shows she has a new paid role as vice president for a company called Better Earth Limited. Its website is still in development but Companies House reveals it to be a start-up with just three directors.

One of the co-chairs is Amir Adnani, president and CEO of Uranium Energy Corp, a US-based uranium production and exploration company which operates North America’s newest uranium mine. A financial commentator on the Street website recommended Uranium Energy Corp as a stock that “could glow as nuclear power regains favour”. And the other, in position since May 1 2024, is none other than the Rt Hon Alexander Boris De Pfeffel Johnson.

Well. Once again Johnson has placed a great deal of trust in Charlotte, giving someone with no public record of involvement in the environment sector a key job with his new venture “helping companies operate profitably within planetary boundaries while respecting human needs”.

Unusually for Johnson, he sought Cabinet Office clearance before taking on this role and was advised his appointment was subject to certain conditions: “Better Earth operates as a consultancy firm and its clients are unknown. Despite…mitigations there remains a risk that you could be seen to offer an unfair advantage to its clients as a result of your access to information and influence.”

The COO of Adnani and Johnson’s new company is Chris Skidmore, the former energy minister, who is on the record as an enthusiastic advocate of nuclear energy. With Labour’s manifesto emphasising the role of nuclear power (notably, Sizewell C and small modular reactors), it will be fascinating to see Charlotte juggling her roles as a consultant and Baroness.

From intern to peer of the realm—and now, with no evident credentials, a VP advising companies and countries on energy transformation: it’s been a dizzy rise for Baroness Owen of Alderley Edge. We may be no clearer as to how or why it all came to pass, but it is a very Johnsonian story—and, as mere commoners, all we can do is to watch and chronicle it for future historians to try to make sense of it all.