How Miliband can address his image problem

The Labour leader must show, not just tell, people who he is.

Last year, as it became clear that Mitt Romney would be their opponent, the Obama campaign had a choice in how to attack him: as a flip-flopper who kept changing positions or as a protector of the 1%, too rich to understand the plight of ordinary Americans. They settled on the latter strategy for two good reasons. First, it fired up their own base who were supportive of the call by Occupy Wall Street. Second, it would neutralise Romney’s main charge that Obama was not competent enough on the economy, by convincing them that Romney would not act in their interests anyway. While Obama has managed to execute his strategy perfectly, Romney has continually stumbled.

Political framing matters immensely. People don’t study every policy: they develop a gut feeling for politicians and parties and then interpret events and news through that gut feeling. This applies to Britain as much as the United States.

It is exactly two years since Ed Miliband was elected leader of the Labour Party. He has managed to unite different factions of the party, offer a new direction that breaks significantly with New Labour, admitted to mistakes of the past (Iraq, 42-day detention, ID cards, lax financial regulation) and established a double-digit lead over the Tories. This is no mean feat for a party that in 2010 suffered its second worst-defeat since 1918 and oversaw the biggest financial crash in 80 years.

But Miliband has been less willing to consider a key hurdle for re-election: how people perceive him. I call this Labour’s Wonk Problem: Miliband and many of his closest advisers prefer to focus on policy and speeches, instead of being mindful about image as Tony Blair was. Several polls last week underscored the fact that this has become a problem. In the Times and the Evening Standard, surveys of public opinion found that Miliband trailed Cameron on several key personal characteristics. When Miliband was elected Labour leader, the Conservatives immediately set out to frame him as "Red Ed". After that didn’t work they decided to switch to Odd Ed, and then back again when unsure. Neither label has quite worked: voters consider the Labour leader to be no more left-wing than Cameron is right-wing.

It isn’t that Miliband is shy or awkward in person – even hardened critics such as Charles Moore admit he is much more affable than his TV persona suggests. The problem is that Miliband himself hasn’t done anything to craft his image beyond a few family-oriented interviews. David Cameron has successfuly managed  to project himself as a tough leader; voters might not like him but enough of them think he is willing to take unpopular decisions to sort out the economy. His Achilles Heel is that while the economy is flat that image will keep crumbling.

But Miliband cannot wait for Cameron’s facade to crumble - he has to tell voters more about himself. He has to actively frame himself. This isn’t a lost cause: the election is still two-and-a-half years away, with the televised debates representing a key opportunity to prove himself in front of the public. His ratings have improved significantly in the last few months as he has taken a strong lead on banking and media reform. But these were about policies and issues, not characteristics.

The image Miliband needs to avoid goes like this: "He is a nice guy, has my interests at heart and means well. But we are in deep trouble and we need a guy willing to take tough decisions to sort out the economy." The one he needs to project goes like this: "Yes, I’m a bit of a geek and a bit bookish. I sometimes speak like a guy who has worked in Westminster all his life. But I’m intelligent, genuine and bold. I care less about PR stunts and more about policy detail. I know my shit. But I know what needs to be done to get this country out of its mess and will take the bold decisions to do so. My opponent only has the interest of the super-rich in mind."

The charge against Cameron should be broadly the same as the one Obama is making against Romney: my opponent may act tough, but he does not have your interests at heart. Miliband also needs to open up more. His Twitter account is a good example of where he could show more personality, but he has been hemmed into taking a highly cautious "here-is-my-latest-statement" approach by his team.

Two years after being elected, it is time Miliband started letting voters know what kind of a person he is. For this, he needs more interventions and fewer policy reviews. He scored a direct hit during the 50p tax cut and that damaged the Conservatives deeply. He needs to create similar traps and take bolder steps to do so. He has to show he has the courage to take on the establishment beyond making a speech just saying that.

Miliband is heading into his third Labour conference as leader in the strongest position he has been in. His biggest job now is to challenge himself to be bolder.

Miliband needs to be "mindful about image as Tony Blair was". Photograph: Getty Images.

Sunny Hundal is editor of Liberal Conspiracy.

Qusai Al Shidi/Flickr
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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war