Will the Olympics change our politics for good?

Voters should not be underestimated.

We British can give ourselves a rather tough self-assessment. For instance, only one in four of us (24 per cent) think Britain is a good place to invest and just 13 per cent of Brits think we have a strong economy. Among global consumers looking at Britain from a distance, the figure rises to 42 per cent for investment in the UK and 48 per cent thinking we have a strong economy. Indeed, across a whole range of topics we find people around the world seeing Britain in a pretty positive light, compared to how we British see ourselves.

Of course, that pessimism is not that surprising, especially given the economic situation.  According to the Ipsos MORI Issues index, the economy and unemployment are constant anxieties for many people – the economy has been top of the country’s agenda every single month since September 2008 - and increasing numbers are worried that government and public services will not be able to do enough to help people in the years ahead.

This year, however, Britons have been looking to the Olympics for a feel-good effect to brighten up the national outlook. Just before the Games, seven in ten said they thought the Olympics would help to improve the mood of the British public, while politicians such as Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, speculated about a possible boost to the UK economy thanks to the Games.

This brief pause between the Olympic and Paralympic Games provides a good moment to see if a feel-good effect has really materialised.

Our recent post-Olympics poll shows that in the light of the Olympics success British people do say they are now more positive about a whole range of organisations and people involved in public life. Four in five (81 per cent) said the London Games had a positive effect on their opinion of the BBC, seven in ten (70 per cent) of the Royal Family and around three-quarters (74 per cent) said it had improved their opinion of Londoners.

Even Londoners themselves say the Olympics has left them upbeat, with 83 per cent saying the Games has improved their view of their fellow citizens of the capital. Londoners are also most likely to say it has given them a positive view of their public transport system with 65 per cent saying they have become more favourable towards it.

Has this feel-good factor also reached perceptions of the Westminster village? On the face of it, yes. Benefiting particularly from the halo effect is Boris Johnson, with 61 per cent saying it has improved their view of him (even higher among Conservative voters).  Nevertheless, he is not the only one; the overnment and the three main party leaders have all seen their approval ratings go up over the last month, according the latest Ipsos MORI Political Monitor. Satisfaction with David Cameron is up six points, Ed Miliband up eight points, and Nick Clegg up five points.

But the question is, is this a real change in the political landscape? Approval ratings for all the party leaders are up, but it does not seem to have had a great impact on voting intentions.  Labour retains a clear lead over the Conservatives, despite their share dropping two points on last month to 42 per cent. A third (32 per cent) say they would vote for the Conservative Party and 11 per cent for the Liberal Democrats, both just one point different from July.

The public also remain as sceptical as ever about politicians and their motives, and there is much change in public perceptions of the coalition. Two in five (42 per cent) say the coalition is providing stable government (compared to 39 per cent in July), just over a quarter (27 per cent) say it is working as a united team (no change compared to the 26 per cent in July) and just over half (54 per cent) say it is unlikely to last until 2015 (compared to 52 per cent in July). To top it off, we also find this month that a clear majority of voters think that all three main political parties put the interest of their party before the national interest.

It is also worth questioning the extent to which national occasions such as the Olympics really do have an impact on people’s perceptions of politics – perhaps because their very nature as unifying events, above the usual cut and thrust of daily politics, means that people do not see them as so relevant to their judgement of the different parties.

The Diamond Jubilee this year is a very recent example, which despite leading to very high satisfaction ratings with the Royal Family seemed to have no significant impact on voting intentions.  Looking back to the Royal Wedding in April last, there was no positive effect for the government immediately afterwards (nor was there from the wedding of Charles and Diana in July 1981 in our polls from back then). Satisfaction with the leaders actually fell slightly, with the exception of Mr Cameron’s rating which remained the same from April to May. 

Even the Golden Jubilee celebrations of June 2002 seem to have had no obvious impact on voting intention, with Labour holding a consistently strong lead over the Conservatives during that period. There was a seven-point rise in satisfaction with the way Tony Blair was doing his job but that was relatively short-lived dropping off in the month afterwards.

When England won the rugby world cup in November 2003, there was a four-point rise for the sitting Labour government in December to 40 per cent but certainly no lasting effect as it was straight back down in January. There was hardly any change in satisfaction ratings for the then leaders either. And England’s procession to the semi-finals in 1996 – for better or worse – didn’t seriously impact Labour’s stranglehold in the polls. 

And, of course, perhaps that is just as it should be. The public should not be under-estimated; they know what is important to them when making their judgements about politicians, and it is those factors that the parties will need to return to when normal political life resumes.

Gideon Skinner is head of political research at Ipsos MORI

Vice-President of Brazil Michel Temer, Pele, David Cameron and Mo Farah at No 10 Downing Street. Photograph: Getty Images

Gideon Skinner is Head of Political Research at IpsosMori. He tweets as @GideonSkinner.

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.