There is no shortage of theories about why Andy Burnham has managed to make Labour more popular than Reform for the first time in 16 months. Some say it is a honeymoon, others argue he has not yet had to take an unpopular stance, and many believe voters have simply not seen what lies behind the good-guy smile.
Brian Reade, writing in his opinion column, accepts there is some truth in all of those explanations. Events will eventually constrain him, the harsh realities of a debt-ridden economy will water down his promises, and delivering on welfare, social care and defence will be far harder than talking about them.
A crucial trait: looking and sounding normal
Yet in under a fortnight, Burnham has shown something vital that goes to the heart of why voters are warming to him: he looks and sounds like them. His speech on the need to reform the care system came straight from the heart, free of soundbites. He could have been someone met in a pub, bemoaning their helplessness over a father's dementia, genuinely wanting to share the story and hear what you think.
He spoke to the public like adults about a deeply difficult subject, declaring that the neglect of the care sector is a national disgrace he has wrestled with since his time as Health Secretary 17 years ago, and that he intends to do whatever it takes to fix it.
Reade says he knew Burnham back then and the man has not changed. The expression "Manchesterism" is now being used to define what he stands for, but a better summation of his appeal is "Normalism".
A stark contrast with recent leaders
It is admittedly not hard to appear normal after the succession of robots, weirdos and phoney careerists who have occupied Downing Street since Burnham was last in Cabinet. David Cameron was a semi-aristocratic, multi-faced chancer; Theresa May resembled a 1950s schoolmistress who had never done anything more daring than run through wheat. Boris Johnson perfected a buffoonish clown act to mask the fact he was a lying spiv, while Liz Truss was a dead-eyed, malfunctioning Chucky doll. Rishi Sunak dressed like Norman Wisdom and was so privileged he admitted he had never met a working-class kid growing up, and Keir Starmer sounded as though every utterance had gone through three separate committees.
Now that No10 is no longer a charisma-free zone, two leaders who previously played the "bloke at the end of the bar" card with success are facing trouble. Compared with Burnham, Nigel Farage is seen as a sleazy establishment grifter who sneers at those who question him, and Zack Polanski is starting to look about as normal as any former breast-enhancing hypnotist can.
Young voters and the limits of 'Normalism'
The Labour leader is also undercutting their appeal among young voters by playing a blinder on social media, which comes as naturally to him as banter with football fans whenever he sits at the Liverpool docks to watch Everton.
Burnham's critics like to paint him as part of the Westminster elite, pointing out that he went to Cambridge and has never had a job outside politics. But they overlook the fact that he came from a grounded working-class background, has never lost touch with it, and therefore instinctively understands the problems ordinary people face.
His popularity will undoubtedly slump. World events, a flatlining economy and a political system beyond repair may beat him. But being out of touch with normality will not. And that, Reade concludes, will do for starters.
