“I’m just Theresa, nobody loves me.” It would not be surprising if those were actually the words of an exhausted Theresa May entering No. 10 after another day of Brexit chaos and exposition to public shaming. Indeed, Andy Serkis’ latest parody of the Prime Minister summarises May’s current situation well. For the last months, she has conveyed the image of an isolated Prime Minister biting on granite in her attempts to reconcile the demands of British politicians, the public, and the European Union. May seems to the public devoid of authority, failing at her most important project. But she could have initially planned to play a decisive role in the story of the most controversial government programme of the decade – had it not been for Brexit.

It was a Wednesday in July 2016 that may have led one to think so. “If you’re from an ordinary working-class family, life is much harder than many people in Westminster realize … I want to address you directly … The government I lead will be driven not by the interests of a privileged few, but by yours,” May vowed in her first address as a Prime Minister. After this speech, she sacked George Osborne, the then chancellor and architect of austerity, from the cabinet. May seemed to have set out a clear direction for her premiership: the times of spending cuts are coming to an end.

For six years, Osborne and his Prime Minister David Cameron had pursued the project of cutting government spending and raising taxes in order to reduce the country’s debt. After the financial crisis had driven numerous European countries to the verge of collapse, fears were prevalent that the UK with its high level of public debt would follow. Cameron’s government started an unprecedented austerity programme mainly aimed at eliminating the budget deficit, the difference between annual government income and expenditure.

“The richest paying the most and the vulnerable protected. That is our approach. Prosperity for all. That is our goal,” Osborne proclaimed when presenting his emergency budget soon after taking over the chancellery. Yet his first cuts prompted the BBC to speak of a budget that was “regressive, in the most basic sense of costing families in the lower half of the income distribution more.” The chancellor imposed limits to incapacity benefits, cuts to spending on higher education, flood defence, and sports. Moreover, the budget for new social housing was reduced by 60% over four years. An anonymous minister: “If George has got this right, we’ll win the next election. If he’s got it wrong, we’re all doomed.”

At first, he appeared to have got it quite wrong. Economic growth slowed down continuously over the next two years. Soon, Osborne needed to backtrack on his goal to eliminate the deficit by 2015. Moreover, Moody’s downgraded the UK’s credit ranking. Even the IMF, previously supporting the programme, advised Osborne to rethink his policies. The chancellor, however, did not give in. He announced yet new cuts in his 2014 budget.

And then finally, the engine of economic recovery started. In 2015, the year of the General Election, unemployment was falling rapidly. Growth was accelerating. Osborne’s main concern, the budget deficit as a share of GDP had been halved relative to 2010. When introducing his budget Osborne painted the UK’s situation in bright colours. The economic effect of austerity is still disputed as some say that it in fact not helped but delayed the recovery. Nevertheless, the election saw the Conservatives conquering an absolute majority. Austerity was at its peak.

Yet slowly, the feared, social consequences of austerity began to emerge. To save billions, the chancellor had cut the budget of key services. Among the long list were local councils that saw themselves forced to curb social housing and unable to sustain cultural offers. The police became chronically understaffed. Underfunding also affected the NHS as necessary increases in funding were withheld. And it was the lower classes that were hit the hardest. After six years, the Conservatives left an economically and, as a consequence, politically divided country. Not few blame Cameron’s defeat in the 2016 referendum on the frustration caused by austerity.

Entry: his successor Theresa May. Dancing on stage last year at the Conservative party conference, she declared: “A decade after the financial crash, people need to know that the austerity it led to is over and that their hard work has paid off.” A year earlier, the budget had finally produced a moderate surplus. In fact, the Prime Minister was as likely to win Strictly Come Dancing as to end austerity, shadow chancellor John McDonnell commented. Much hints, however, that the prime minister wanted to turn the topic into her trademark agenda. Throughout her tenure, May had drawn attention to the fight against social injustice: from her first speech, to an article in the Sunday Telegraph and her Birmingham performance. She could have made the departure from austerity and the mitigation of its effect on the poorest the project to distinguish her from her predecessor. The message of social concern sounded after all much more credible when delivered by the vicar’s daughter than by the public school boy Cameron.

Yet despite her words, May has changed little. One could see her as another victim of Brexit. Having her hands full with negotiating an impossible withdrawal agreement with both the EU and her party, there was little space for May to pursue other projects. Moreover, the publicity of her perceived failure covered up all potential achievements. On the other hand, May ruled for an entire year with a sufficient Conservative majority and without Brexit being imminent. Yet her most salient policy from that time may be the proposed end of the ban on new grammar schools. It is unsurprisingly considered to be the inactivity on austerity that cost May the Conservative majority in the 2017 snap election. Whether the first budget after her party conference speech really marked the end of austerity remained subject to controversial debate.

It is therefore difficult to tell whether May has ever seriously aimed for leaving her mark as a social reformer. Yet at the latest when she announced on 13 December that she would not run for another term in 2022, she has inevitably linked her legacy to Brexit.