Beyond the Polls
Why 2026 Feels Different for Wales
I’ve been following Welsh politics for years. I’ve written about a load of different elections, watched the promises, the slogans, the endless spin. But something about 2026 feels different to me. Not because the parties have changed entirely, they haven’t. Not even because the issues are new, they’re definitely not. It’s because the stakes feel so much higher.
By May 2026, Wales will be voting for a Senedd unlike any we’ve had before: 96 Members, elected across 16 constituencies using a party-list proportional system. That means every vote carries weight in ways it hasn’t before. It’s also the first time we’ve had this new system after decades of the old one, with its 60-member, single-member constituencies. I won’t lie,the mechanics are complicated, but the message is clear: this election could reshape Welsh politics in a profound way.
And the truth is, the choices on the table are stark. We are being asked to choose between three paths: one that invests in people, one that tinkers around the edges, and one that could very well tear our country apart.
Labour: Safe, Familiar, But Barely Enough
We’ve all seen what Labour does when it’s in power, we’ve had decades of it here in Wales. I’ve seen hospitals struggling, schools underfunded, families stretched thin. And now, after the retirement of senior figures like Mark Drakeford, Vaughan Gething, and Lee Waters, the party feels… smaller somehow. Less rooted.
Labour tries to talk a good game. Digital innovation, AI, “modernising” the NHS,all noble words, but how do they touch the lives of the families I know? The single mother in Swansea who can’t afford rent and childcare. The nurse in Wrexham who’s exhausted, unpaid overtime piling up. The teacher in Llanelli trying to keep classes afloat. These pledges read like technical manuals for managing a system that’s already failing, not like a vision for a better Wales.
Labour is a comfort blanket. But comfort won’t fix the fact that our hospitals are full, our schools stretched, and our young people are leaving. If you’re desperate for real change, Labour’s incrementalism may feel more like a blockade than a solution.
Reform UK: A Dangerous Illusion
Then there’s Reform UK. I’ve never been more worried about a party in Wales, and that is what they are, a party operating in Wales, not a Welsh party. Their promises, ending refugee protections, scrapping Welsh-language targets, reopening coal mines, are all pessimistic symbol over substance. They’re designed to provoke outrage, to stir resentment, to make voters feel something without actually solving anything.
I think about the people in Port Talbot, the nurses, the teachers, the children, and I think about what this party would actually do to their lives. Raise income thresholds without funding public services? End migration in a way that could cripple our health service? Scrap speed limits that save lives? These aren’t small mistakes. They’re moral failures. They’re a vision of Wales that puts ideology above reality, nostalgia above progress, anger above community.
Plaid Cymru: The Hardest Choice, and the Most Hopeful
Plaid, for me, is the hardest, but also only choice. Not because I doubt them, but because hope always feels fragile in Welsh politics. That being said, their policies feel like they come from a place I recognise: a desire to actually make life better for ordinary people. Libraries in every primary school, child payments that truly lift families out of poverty, tackling agricultural bureaucracy so small farms can survive, these are the practical steps that matter.
They’re not flashy. They won’t make headlines. But they are real. And in a world where Labour tinkers, and Reform threatens, reality matters more than spin.
I think about the communities I know, from Ponty to Newport, and I can see how Plaid’s approach would ripple through everyday life. Small acts of investment, care, and foresight, that’s what builds a nation.
Beyond the Polls: This is Personal
I’ve watched the polling. I’ve studied constituencies. I’ve seen Plaid surging in some areas, Reform rising on anger, and Labour clinging to familiarity. But what worries me most isn’t the numbers, it’s what they mean for real people. Every pledge, every slogan, every media stunt will impact families, children, workers, and communities for years to come.
This election is moral, not just political. It’s about asking ourselves: do we want a Wales that invests in people, or one that clings to the past? Do we want action or nostalgia? Hope or resentment?
For me, the answer is clear. Plaid represents light in a moment where darkness is tempting. Labour represents mere safety when boldness is needed. And Reform represents a danger we cannot afford to ignore.
I don’t say this lightly. I say it because I see the consequences in the schools, hospitals, and streets of a nation I am so proud to call home. This election is about far more than politics. It’s about the kind of Wales we choose to be, and the future we leave for our children.
The question is not just who will win. The question is: who will invest in Wales’ people, and who will let us fall?