“There’s no way of repeating this that won’t be painful,” Keir Starmer said, opening his statement on the Grenfell fire. Above and behind him, in the public gallery, some of those affected by the tragedy looked on. “The simple truth is that the deaths that occurred were all avoidable.”

The government had known by 2016, the year before the fire, that the cladding on towers like Grenfell was dangerous

The report he was presenting to parliament had nothing in it to make anyone involved proud. Every institution, private and public, had failed the residents of the tower block before the fire and afterwards. The prime minister’s job was to say sorry.

The problems had existed under Labour, Conservative and Liberal Democrat, and in the discussion that followed Starmer’s statement, everyone avoided trying to score points. Instead they simply agreed that it had been terrible. One could admire the frankness with which both the prime minister and Rishi Sunak approached the subject, and their commitment to deliver change, or dismiss their words as hot air. Probably the best way to judge will be to wait a couple of years and see if anything has changed.

There was a nod to the power of ideas: the government had known by 2016, the year before the fire, that the cladding on towers like Grenfell was dangerous, but the “deregulatory agenda,” the prime minister read out, “dominated the department’s thinking to such an extent that even matters affecting the safety of life were ignored, delayed or disregarded.” He didn’t say it, but it was a rebuke to the idea that civil servants have simply spent the last 14 years blocking ministerial attempts to cut red tape.

One theme, raised repeatedly, was that the residents of Grenfell were sidelined because they lived in social housing. Florence Eshalomi, Labour MP for Vauxhall, spoke of “the stigma attached to people who are actually from all walks of life, teachers, doctors, firefighters, people who pay their rent on time, yet are treated with disdain.” Robert Jenrick said they “feel like they are second class citizens”. It will be interesting to see if his reinvention as a social justice warrior sticks.

Starmer, a lawyer dealing with a report by another lawyer, was comfortable throughout. “Justice isn’t a question of grace or kindness,” he said at one point. “It is an entitlement, and it’s entitlement to every single citizen in this country.”

He had been a little less happy just beforehand at Prime Minister’s Questions. It was only his second time answering them, and a tremor in his hand was visible now and again. At least four times he referred to Sunak as “the prime minister”. If that seemed incongruous, it was clear that everyone is still adjusting to the new reality: the leader of the opposition told us what a great place the country is, while the prime minister kept insisting it was a disaster zone. “£22billion pound black hole!” he said, again and again, in answer to almost everything.

It was a quiet session. Perhaps the prospect of discussing Grenfell sobered MPs, or maybe all the new kids have taken to heart the speaker’s instructions to keep things civilised. The leader of the opposition managed to slip into the chamber unremarked, and even Starmer generated only a gentle cheer.

Ed Davey, who used to get a single question now and again, now gets two every week. A couple of rows behind him, the SNP’s Stephen Flynn, until recently the leader of the third largest party in the chamber, sat, chin on hand, possibly contemplating the transit of the gloria mundi. His colleague Pete Wishart, a man blissfully unburdened by any sense of the ridiculous, asked the prime minister what he blamed for his “unprecedented fall in popularity.” This at least gave Starmer a laugh.

Those present had the air of people who had nothing better to do with their afternoons.

Prime ministers usually come to the session with binders full of briefing details at least an inch thick. Starmer’s was less than half that, so thin he had it folded back on itself. It’s not yet clear whether this is because he thinks he knows all the answers, or his office thinks there are no answers to know. Or that there is only one answer: “£22 billion black hole.”

If some things have changed, others remain the same: government MPs ask toady questions. One asked Starmer not to overlook his constituency, and the prime minister replied by promising “actions, not slogans.” Which would look pretty good on a t-shirt.

Later in the afternoon we got a real reminder of how much things have changed, as the 1922 Committee announced the results of the first round of voting in the Conservative leadership election. There have been a few of these in the last decade, and usually, as they involved the selection of a prime minister, they were given to packed rooms, with breathless reporters sending urgent headlines. This time it was sitting room only, and those present had the air of people who had nothing better to do with their afternoons. They could barely muster a cheer for the result.

Where were you when you learned that Priti Patel had been running for the Conservative leadership, but now wasn’t? Welcome to the new reality.