Kenny Farquharson - All strategies lead away from Brown

THREE years ago some bright spark at the Daily Telegraph had the idea of bringing together two of the rising stars in the Labour and Tory parties for a friendly chat.

The two men were David Cameron, who at the time was drawing up the Tory manifesto, and David Miliband, who was drawing up Labour's. The pair already had much in common – both went to Oxford, achieving a first in politics, philosophy and economics a year apart. On arriving at a London restaurant to be interviewed together over breakfast, their first topic of conversation was who was the thriftiest dresser.

Cameron: "That's a smart suit.''

Miliband: "Only £158.''

Cameron: "Mine was £150."

Round One to the Tories. Round Two could turn out to be far more interesting. There's now a good chance that the next general election will see the two Davids competing to be Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Quite how we get to that point, however, is still a bit of a mystery. So let's do some crystal ball gazing.

First things first: let's agree that Gordon Brown is finished. For him to lead Labour into the next election would be foolish and reckless. By the time polling day arrived his Cabinet would be a nest of vipers, already fighting the leadership contest that would follow certain defeat. Is Brown really so thrawn and vain that he can't see the damage this would inflict on the party he loves?

Survival strategies mooted by loyal Brownies last week just don't wash. Take, for example, the currently fashionable theory that Brown should make Miliband Chancellor in a reshuffle, anointing him as heir apparent while still clinging on to power. As if that would suddenly make Brown more popular with the voters. Other Brownies argue Miliband should be sacked in a prime ministerial show of strength, banishing the uppity young pretender to the backbenches. The flaw in both of these strategies is obvious: they only underline the impression that Brown is a lame duck; a political bed-blocker.

As for those who want Brown to go, some of their scenarios don't make much sense either. How about the common assumption that Jack Straw, 62, could become a caretaker leader, guiding Labour into the next election. Can you imagine what Straw's pitch to the electorate might be? "Yes, I know I'm a bit old hat, and I know that I'm nobody's idea of a great Prime Minister, but don't worry: I've no chance of winning – and anyway I'm just keeping the seat warm while my far more attractive younger colleagues decide who is going to take over." Why ditch Brown only to replace him with an older man? Why not just move straight to the next generation? If Labour wants to offer voters a credible alternative to Cameron at the next election, it needs to cut to the chase.

Straw will have his part to play. The question now is whether he and other senior Cabinet figures such as Alistair Darling and Geoff Hoon have the guts to tap on the door of the Prime Minister's study and ask for a quiet word. If they prove unwilling, then there are other mechanisms by which the party can demonstrate to Brown that his time is over: a mass resignation of junior ministers; a petition of MPs; or, failing everything else, a decision by Miliband to resign from the Cabinet and mount a direct challenge for the leadership. Having come this far, it would be the ultimate test of his self-belief.

There is, of course, one big imponderable in all of this: the mindset of James Gordon Brown. Does he accept that the endgame has begun? What would be the trigger for a decision to resign? Whose counsel would prove decisive? What are his brothers and his wife saying to him? How is his health?

If the advice being given to him is reaching a critical mass, the final phase of his premiership could go something like this: After the summer break, Straw and his grey-suited friends will pop into Downing Street. Brown, accepting the game is up, will accede to their demands. At the Labour conference at Manchester in September, he will announce his intention to resign as Labour leader – but not until next May. That will give time for the various contenders to set out their stall so the party – and the country – can get a good look at them. In late April 2009, Labour will elect a new leader and Prime Minister – who'll immediately call a general election. Then on June 11, the same day as the European Parliament elections, Britain will go to the polls.

It may not be Miliband who faces Cameron in that contest. Perhaps that jolly Alan Johnson will be the Labour figure the public warms to (if he can be persuaded to enter the race); perhaps it will be the pugnacious Ed Balls or the photogenic Andy Burnham. But Miliband is the one to beat.

At the end of their joint interview in April 2005, the two Davids compared notes about how overworked they were as Britain headed to a general election.

"My wife's been shouting at me," said Cameron. "She said, 'You've got the babies for half an hour – the least you can do is look after them rather than read the newspapers.'"

Miliband commiserated: "I haven't even read the newspapers yet."

Then Cameron made a heartfelt appeal to the journalist writing up the interview.

"Don't say we're going to be the next leaders," he begged. "That's double suicide." Miliband heartily agreed: "It'll be the end of our political careers."

Not quite, chaps, not quite.