Andy Burnham should beware of the perils of governing by TikTok

This was gleaned from a promotional video of our new PM having a whale of a time partying, posted this week on the TikTok account of the UK Labour Party.

As this short clip was cross-posted despairingly to X (formerly Twitter) by someone who felt it lacked the gravitas our political leaders should demonstrate, I ventured from my usual online haunt to pastures new, to confirm it was, indeed, official party-endorsed footage.

TikTok – which popularised during the 2020 Covid lockdown – isn’t a site I use, and nor am I tempted to. After only a few minutes poking around various politicians ‘content’ – of varying popularity - I was bemused, and slightly concerned for their collective sanity.

An exaggeration, though only partly. Like everyone else, I’m worried about what social media has done to society and our politics. Simultaneously, it’s become something we must navigate, enduring all the good and ill it brings. It brings me both, as I presume it does for many.

Every social media site has problems: algorithm corruption, purposefully addictive features, unscrupulous ownership. But, particularly for anyone with something to sell or advertise – whether a new café, creative wares, or books and opinions – there’s a need to utilise at least one social media site to reach an audience.

Our new PM has much to sell. New policies, new priorities, announced from shiny new premises. The promised ‘No 10 North’ in Burnham’s beloved Manchester - clearly planned for some time - opened on Friday, with ‘friendly-Northern-lad’ online clips accompanying its first gathering.

I don’t strive to be cynical. I’d like Burnham to succeed with the little we know so far about some top policies. Effective help with the cost of living; grappling, cross-party – as he’s promised to - with the huge issue of funding social care. No mean feat.

But political will plus public funds are insufficient for problems of this magnitude. There’s unease about promises thrown out on the socials that require far more than ‘good vibes’ to keep.

Burnham took an audacious route back to Westminster and its top role; his popularity as Mayor of Manchester an obvious plus. He’s likewise popular with colleagues.

But – and it’s a huge one – this cheeky chappie ‘influencer’ stuff is unwise. It’s inherently needy. Off-putting, when strong leadership is a must.

There’s nevertheless been praise for Burnham’s communications this week, with a new policy announcement each morning. Equally, there’s been frequent cries of, ‘oh dear god, make it stop’ about the way they’ve been announced.

Are we out of touch? Not the target audience?

Might some of us Scots simply be wary, having gone through the ‘selfie queen’, people- pleasing, but ultimately substance-free – other than an obsession with gender identity politics - era of former First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon? As she proved, using social media popularity as a barometer for political competence is folly.

Unfortunately, there’s every chance this churn of ‘content’ may worsen: several ‘Social Strategy’ jobs based at No 10 North have been advertised, with eye-watering salaries of £57k+.

There have also been understandable grumblings from reporters about Burnham swerving the press. His informal online policy announcements give every impression of avoiding awkward questions.

‘That’s the point,’ supporters shrug. But what does that mean for proper scrutiny?

What happens when tougher decisions must be made; for announcements of a vital but potentially unpopular nature?

What happens when it comes to announcing foreign policy, an area in which Burnham is untested ? I can’t foresee jokey clips with Donald Trump over tea and biccies while discussing geopolitics passing muster.

To be fair, some positives: Burnham seems at ease with himself in a way former PM Keir Starmer never quite managed. He might well unite Labour, despite his lack of an elected mandate.

To accompany the headline announcement of a 20 per cent reduction in business rates for English pubs, clubs, and venues, Burnham and chancellor John Healey rated traditional bar snacks. While silly on its surface, this online promotion succeeded in two ways: First, it showed a friendly working relationship between PM and chancellor. Second, it introduced voters to John Healey. While an experienced Labour figure, he’s less well-known than other limelight-driven colleagues.

If the oft-mentioned ‘return of hope’ is the goal from Burnham, ensuring both men are trusted is vital. I may disagree with them on Scampi Fries, which are food of the gods, but in some ways – being generous – this particular clip succeeded. Just. But much more of such things? Unlikely.

There’s over a month before Westminster returns from recess. But, come September, Burnham will face Prime Minister’s Questions, and Tory leader of the opposition, Kemi Badenoch.

Ferocious in debate, and a skilled orator, Burnham will need to contend with the not insignificant fact his opposite number is on an upward trajectory. She’s had much success holding Starmer’s feet to the fire, and is more popular with the public than the Tories generally.

Like Burnham, Badenoch is intent on undoing the reputational damage done to her party by predecessors. He won’t have an easy ride at PMQs, particularly on that lack of mandate.

There are obviously worse things to be as PM than likeable. But wanting to be liked – as I fear Andy Burnham rather does - would be terrible when in a job where it’s notoriously impossible to please everyone. It won’t happen – not least via over-reliance on such inherently trite communication strategies. For good and ill, Prime Minister: the online ‘engagement’ you court is from a fickle bunch. You’re not an entertainer. You’re a political leader.

Use social media as a useful communication tool if you must, but please lead the country with the gravitas it deserves.