The first TikTok PM? God help us

But look! Here’s Andy Burnham with some crisps.

This, I imagine, is what the comms gurus in Downing Street - or is it Number 10 North? - want me to say when I see the social media clips of the new Prime Minister these days.

Here’s a video of Andy Burnham pulling a pint. He then announces a 20% business rate cut for pubs and clubs, which has been met with little more than a shrug from the industry.

But this doesn’t matter. Just look at our Andy. Look how relatable he is. This is about vibes, cheeky chappy-ness. This is real. Please believe us. Whatever you do, do not look up what Andy Burnham said his favourite biscuit was in 2015 (he said ‘chips and gravy’).

My gripe isn’t with Mr Burnham or his fleet of social producers. What they’re doing isn’t new; in fact, it’s exactly what the PM should be doing.

Ever since Donald Trump’s 2024 presidential campaign of soft-ball podcast interviews and viral clips, it’s clear that elections are now won online.

And yes, of course, there is something nefarious to all this. The new era of social media communications means politicians come under less scrutiny. Gary Lineker, who did one of Burnham’s first sit-down interviews, is no Nick Ferrari.

But what’s funny about all this is the idea that a social media-savvy prime minister is enough to pull the Labour Party out of its hole.

Already, journalists and Labour MPs are excited about a ‘Burnham bounce’, based on a poll that shows Labour ahead of Reform for the first time since March.

Do they really think it’s the video of Andy Burnham and John Healey eating crisps in the pub that’s done it? Was that really Keir Starmer’s problem - that he didn’t eat enough scampi fries?

If the expectation is that Burnham will recreate Trumpian levels of virality, these folk will be disappointed. MAGA defined a cultural moment in US politics, not because Trump went on podcasts, but because it already existed online, ready to be activated by a savvy political campaign.

That’s why attempts to digitise Starmerism came across as stiff and awkward: Labour tried to engineer authenticity, like a geography teacher putting on a cap backwards and saying ‘bruv’ in a lesson about coastal erosion.

If anything, the new obsession with a Burnham bounce reveals the patronising way the political class looks at voters. They think we’ll clap like seals whenever a politician does something semi-human, like go to the pub.

It also reveals they can’t tell the difference between a communication strategy and political strategy.

When Labour are faced with the prospect of budget cuts towards the end of parliament, as it’s suggested they are, what will political journalists suggest Burnham do - film an explainer on austerity using Jaffa Cakes?

And if he’s questioned on giving Donald Trump carte blanche to use UK bases for a war on Iran, will the advice be to sing Wonderwall outside No. 10 North?

If Burnham and his team are half the political operators they’re made out to be, talk of a media-hyped "bounce" won't faze them. As recent polling stalls for the Greens and Reform UK show, slick socials can’t hide your blunders.

So, if the chronically online political hacks haven’t got it yet: the only thing that will sustain a Burnham bounce is a material improvement to voters’ lives.

____________________

George Shealy is a video journalist at LBC.

LBC Opinion provides a platform for diverse opinions on current affairs and matters of public interest.

The views expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official LBC position.

To contact us email opinion@lbc.co.uk