Anti-Corbyn MPs might be able to get themselves recognised on a parliamentary technicality as "the Official Opposition" or "the Shadow Cabinet".
But that would be the most hilarious thing to happen in British politics in living memory.
Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition? More like Her Majesty's Parallel Universe.
They have no idea how long or how loud the electorate at large would laugh at them. And we would. Oh, how we would.
Owen Smith is every second or third generation right-wing Labour councillor that those of us who grew up in the Labour heartlands have ever met.
His too cosy relationships with Big Pharma and with arms dealers correspond to theirs with private service contractors and with property developers.
He has their sneering face. He has their tone of voice. He has their style of delivery.
His and theirs is the motto of the tiny, largely elderly, and overwhelmingly inactive Labour Party of the pre-Corbyn years: "You're stuck with me, because there's no one else."
It is impossible to imagine any higher pleasure than that tendency's complete and utter crushing.
70 per cent for Corbyn, they say? Make it 80, say I.