Politics

The man behind Count Binface

Jon Harvey on standing against Boris Johnson and Theresa May—and coping with grief through humour

October 31, 2023
Jon Harvey—as Count Binface—standing against Boris Johnson in 2019. Image: Guy Corbishley / Alamy Stock Photo
Jon Harvey—as Count Binface—standing against Boris Johnson in 2019. Image: Guy Corbishley / Alamy Stock Photo

Ahead of the recent Uxbridge and South Ruislip byelection to replace Boris Johnson as MP (who’d stepped down in disgrace after being found guilty of misleading parliament), 25,000 leaflets were posted out to local residents with some eye-catching promises, among them: price-capping croissants to £1, bringing back Ceefax, and tying ministers’ pay to nurses’ pay for the next 100 years. 

These policies all came from satirical political candidate Count Binface, an “intergalactic space warrior” from the planet Sigma IX. In Uxbridge, he called out the Conservatives for botching Brexit, mishandling a pandemic, breaking the NHS, filling the seas and rivers with excrement and being “outperformed by a lettuce”, as well bullying, cronyism, incompetence and lying. “They’ve made a mockery of politics,” his leaflets said. “Now it’s our turn.”

Binface has form. He ran against prime minister Boris Johnson in 2019’s general election, securing 69 votes. He also ran for London mayor in 2021, coming ninth with 24,775 first place votes, and (in a previous guise as Lord Buckethead) against Theresa May in 2017’s general election. 

I’ve met Binface before. But it’s Jon Harvey, the man behind the bin, who I’m talking to today. Born in Croydon, Harvey is a stand-up comedian, author, producer and editor, who’s worked on satirical TV and radio shows, including The Thick of It, Have I Got News for You and Time Trumpet. 

Earlier this year, Harvey published his memoir, A Fan for All Seasons. Though there’s plenty of humour, the book is about grief. On 9th June 2015, Harvey found his older brother, Dan, dead at his London flat. “Dan’s death was absolutely unexpected,” Harvey tells me. “I’ve had two bereavements in my life: my dad and my brother. Both were completely out of the blue. Dan was 43, the same age I am now. I’m still processing the fact that I found him. Dan was obese; he didn’t look after himself. But no one had an inkling anything like this was on the horizon.” 

Dan had died from a hypoglycaemic coma, brought on by (at the time undiagnosed) diabetes. The post-mortem arrived after the funeral, though, meaning that at the time of the funeral, no one knew what he’d died of (“There was a slight possibility he could’ve killed himself.”) Jon believes his brother also had undiagnosed mental health issues: “OCD and possibly Asperger’s.” 

In life, the two brothers shared a love of sport. Dan—“nine years older than me and old enough to almost be like a second dad”—took his younger brother to football matches. After Dan died, Jon embarked on an obsessive sports odyssey. “Everyone’s grief is unique. For me, the shock of having your oldest friend ripped away from you was the start point for the journey I went on. It started as a coping mechanism. I inherited his Crystal Palace season ticket. I’m a Spurs fan, but I couldn’t imagine Dan not being represented at Selhurst Park.”

Harvey travelled to the “home of sport”, Olympia in Greece, and spent a year attending sporting events (rugby, tennis, golf, darts, horse-racing, cricket, snooker, handball, the Rubik’s Cube World Championship…), finding comfort in crowds of spectators “having the time of their lives”. Immersing himself in sport was also a way to keep his brother close. “You can’t replace a lost loved one. But if you can cherish and celebrate the things they loved, then their flame is still just-lit.” 

Harvey’s still going to sports events. He’s also given his son the middle name Daniel. He remembers his brother in other ways, too. “Dan and I both loved comedy. We could quote Only Fools and Horses, Blackadder, Fawlty Towers… Particularly with a difficult childhood, with my dad being an alcoholic, comedy was such a joy, and it sparked me into what I wanted to do. That goes for politics and Binface, too. Dan was obsessed with politics.”

Jon made his first outing as Lord Buckethead in Maidenhead for the 2017 general election, almost exactly two years after the day he found his brother’s body. The character was taken from an obscure 1980s Star Wars parody film—an unforgettable sight on-stage next to the visibly awkward prime minister Theresa May. “I had no idea it would go viral,” says Harvey. “Thursday night: I was in a sports hall in Maidenhead. Sunday morning: I was flown first class to New York to be on John Oliver’s show. It was the weirdest experience of my life.”

As well as being funny, the presence of Harvey’s alter-ego Count Binface (adopted after copyright issues with Buckethead) emphasises the lack of seriousness of many other candidates; in every contest he’s been in, a man with a bin on his head was never the most ridiculous or least-qualified candidate. Joke policies aside, he often taps into public anger on corruption, incompetence and greed, pledging to give royal palaces to the homeless and to undo Boris Johnson’s criticised honours list. “At a hustings once, someone said: “I can’t believe that Binface is making the most sense of all the candidates,” he laughs. 

Tragically, Binface failed to make 20th July “Bindependence Day” in Uxbridge. But “it was nice to beat Ukip and Piers Corbyn—again,” Harvey says. 

He’ll fight again to be mayor of London in May 2024 and will most likely run to be an MP in the next general election, continuing his missions to rename London Bridge as Phoebe Waller-Bridge and to nationalise Adele. If he does ever win, he would serve as Binface, which raises the interesting prospect of an intergalactic warrior walking the corridors of power. “If people vote Binface, they get Binface,” he says. “I know there are parliamentary rules saying you can’t wear a costume. I’ll just have to change those rules.”  

A Fan for All Seasons by Jon Harvey is published by Yellow Jersey (Hardback, £18.99).