The longer-term political consequences of the pandemic’s spread of fringe beliefs are visible in the evolution of Reform UK. Its anti-lockdown positioning provided Nigel Farage with a means to reconnect with disaffected voters and reassert his political relevance, much as he had done, with notable success, during the Brexit campaign.

It is easy to forget how surreal the early months of 2020 felt. Six years ago, the UK entered an unprecedented period of nationwide lockdowns in response to Covid-19. Yet alongside this public health emergency, a quieter but consequential political shift was underway, one that would help reshape the trajectory of right-wing populism in Britain.

Today, Reform UK presents itself as a credible contender for power. Yet its origins are rooted in that same moment of crisis, when Nigel Farage and Richard Tice moved to reposition the Brexit Party as the political voice of anti-lockdown resistance.

Reframing public health as political choice

This was a deliberate repositioning. In early 2021, as restrictions remained in place, the party formally applied to become Reform UK, shifting its focus from leaving the EU to opposing lockdowns and supporting businesses. In a joint Telegraph article, Farage and Tice argued it was “time to redirect our energies,” insisting Britain should “learn to live with the virus, not hide in fear of it.” What they offered was not simply a critique of policy, but a reframing of public health, as a matter of individual choice rather than collective necessity.

That reframing stands in contradiction with subsequent evidence. Research by Imperial College London estimated that the first national lockdown saved more than 470,000 lives. A 2025 public inquiry later concluded that introducing restrictions just one week earlier could have prevented an additional 23,000 deaths in England during the first wave.

From fringe to mainstream

The pandemic didn’t create anti-science or conspiratorial politics, but it accelerated and amplified them. Lockdowns, vaccination campaigns and border controls were recast by fringe networks as instruments of authoritarian control, feeding into a broader narrative that portrayed globalisation as inherently oppressive.

And these ideas didn’t remain on the margins. Misinformation circulated widely on fringe digital platforms, but through amplification by activists, commentators and media platforms, it began to permeate mainstream conservative discourse. The boundary between fringe and acceptable opinion became increasingly porous.

In the United States, anti-lockdown protests framed public health measures as infringements on personal liberty, with sometimes armed demonstrators invoking constitutional rights. Influential political and media figures and outlets played a key role in legitimising these claims, presenting restrictions as “authoritarian” rather than evidence-based interventions.

Republican politicians and individuals affiliated with President Donald Trump’s re-election campaign helped organise or promote anti-lockdown protests across key electoral battleground states. Swing states, such as North Carolina, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, saw Republican lawmakers, party leaders and Trump allies encourage their social media followers to join the protests, often organised by conservative activists and pro-gun rights groups.

A parallel narrative unfolded in the UK. By the summer of 2020, London had already seen multiple protests against the government’s response to the pandemic. Prominent right-wing media personalities participated, including Julia Hartley-Brewer, TalkRadio presenter and newspaper columnist, who used her platforms to spread anti-lockdown and Covid-sceptic views.

GB News became a particularly prominent outlet for anti-Covid and anti-vaccine narratives. Presenter Neil Oliver linked coronavirus vaccines to so-called “turbo cancer.” This was despite the fact that the Canadian doctor who popularised the term had been investigated by the College of Physicians and Surgeons of British Columbia for alleged misconduct related to spreading misinformation about Covid measures and vaccines. Nonetheless, Ofcom ruled that Oliver’s comments did not breach its broadcasting code. The principle of ‘freedom of expression’ appeared to outweigh Ofcom’s responsibility to guard against harmful or misleading content.

As recently as September, Oliver continued to air anti-Covid commentary on GB News, accusing YouTube of censoring debate by removing videos and issuing strikes against channels “without explanation.”

Fellow GB News presenter and former Brexit Party MEP, Martin Daubney, was another especially outspoken opponent of lockdown measures. Reporting from the ground during the anti-lockdown demonstrations, he interviewed figures such as Laurence Fox, the far-right political campaigner who ran in the London mayoral election on an anti-lockdown platform but, fortunately, secured less than 2% of the vote.

On 26 June 2021, thousands gathered in central London for a ‘Freedom March’ opposing Covid restrictions, despite the fact that most measures were scheduled to be lifted within a fortnight. The crowd brought together a mix of groups, including anti-vaccination activists, adherents of conspiracy movements such as QAnon, supporters of Donald Trump, and individuals who denied the severity or even the existence of the virus.

Richard Tice, then leader of the newly rebranded Reform UK, went so far as to hire a helicopter to film the lockdown protest for a YouTube stream titled Freedom March Live, aiming to secure coverage that, in his words, “could not be ignored” by mainstream media.

Academic insight

Doctoral research provides a useful lens through which to interpret these developments. A thesis from Linköping University finds that individuals on the political right are more susceptible to engaging with and disseminating conspiracy theories. One explanation is that right-wing information environments tend to contain a higher volume of conspiratorial content, increasing exposure and normalisation.

A second explanation is more psychological, suggesting that individuals with more right-wing dispositions are often more attuned to perceived threats, which may make narratives about hidden, malevolent ‘threats’ more intuitively compelling. In this context, conspiracy theories often align with existing right-wing concerns, tending to emphasise themes such as nationalism, nativism, white replacement claims and the preservation of cultural identity

Other theories point to the role of anti-democratic attitudes, where distrust in institutions and expertise creates fertile ground for conspiratorial interpretations of complex events.

From protest to party

The longer-term political consequences of the pandemic’s spread of fringe beliefs are visible in the evolution of Reform UK. Its anti-lockdown positioning provided Nigel Farage with a means to reconnect with disaffected voters and reassert his political relevance, much as he had done, with notable success, during the Brexit campaign.

By reframing lockdowns as a matter of personal choice rather than collective necessity, Farage and his allies tapped into a broader current of discontent. This was not limited to opposition to specific public health measures; it drew on a deeper distrust of political authority and scepticism toward expert-led governance.

Academic analysis supports this interpretation. Research from the University of Birmingham suggests that anti-lockdown politics acted as a vehicle for reviving Farage’s brand of right-wing populism, enabling him to rebuild momentum and reconnect with a receptive base.

More broadly, the pandemic appears to have normalised a style of politics in which conspiratorial thinking and anti-science rhetoric can move more easily from the fringes into formal party structures.

This is clearly visible in Reform UK’s candidate base.

During the 2024 general election, the party fielded multiple candidates who had promoted conspiracy theories online, including claims that the climate crisis was fabricated, support for ‘15-minute city’ conspiracies, and anti-vaccine misinformation. At least 30 candidates publicly questioned or rejected mainstream climate science, often framing it as part of a wider plot by global elites.

Other candidates were suspended or deselected over offensive or extremist content, including anti-refugee activism and inflammatory social media posts. Even Farage himself acknowledged during the campaign that “too many candidates… said stupid things,” linking this directly to a drop in the party’s polling.

Subsequent investigations suggest these were not isolated incidents. In late 2025, HOPE not hate revealed candidates and prospective representatives endorsed claims that Covid-19 was a “hoax,” engaged with far-right influencers, or promoted antisemitic and conspiratorial material.

More recent scrutiny has reinforced concerns about vetting and internal culture. Reform candidates have been suspended over financial misconduct, while others have been linked to Islamophobic remarks, racist content, or conspiracy-laden online networks. In Scotland, investigate journalists the Ferrett has identified clusters of candidates connected to online groups sharing extreme rhetoric about migrants, Muslims and global “elite” plots.

These patterns point to something more structural than a series of individual missteps. They suggest that the narratives popularised during the pandemic, namely distrust of institutions, hostility to science and expertise, and a tendency to reinterpret complex crises through conspiratorial frames, have become embedded within parts of the party’s political ecosystem.

Six years on, the effects are difficult to ignore. What began as a public health emergency has left a lasting imprint on political culture. The pandemic blurred the line between fringe and mainstream, turning scientific questions into ideological battlegrounds and enabling populist movements not just to endure, but to adapt, institutionalise, and in many cases, thrive.

The prospect of Reform UK carrying these narratives from the political margins into the heart of government should not be dismissed lightly. Were a movement shaped, in part, by conspiratorial thinking and hostility to evidence-based policymaking to reach 10 Downing Street, the implications would extend far beyond party politics, raising profound questions about governance, public trust and the role of expertise in democratic decision-making.

Gabrielle Pickard-Whitehead is author of Right-Wing Watch

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