The Prime Minister has cleverly rearranged the political choreography, but he is too desperate for quick hits. He must watch his step

Dancing with Gordon

One of the few iron laws in modern politics is that a prime minister must give some mean- ing to the shapeless torrent of events. The narrative can be tendentious or simplistic, as long as it strikes a chord. Margaret Thatcher was a supreme storyteller. So was Tony Blair. Briefly, John Major pulled it off as well. This is not an optional extra for a political leader, but a necessity, a precondition to achieving further success.

After a successful autumn, Gordon Brown has lost some momentum. Recent polls suggest that the Conservatives have established a significant lead and that voters' confidence in Brown's handling of the economy has diminished. Perhaps this is entirely down to the more tangible bad economic news of recent weeks, but I doubt it. After all, there was no great sense of euphoria towards the end of last year when there were signs of a Brown bounce.

In the autumn, Brown displayed impressive leadership on two separate fronts. First, he acted in ways that appeared to make a significant difference, most spectacularly with his rescue package for the banks. Second, he devised a language to accompany the hyperactivity, phrases that were repeated often, like a jukebox primed to play the same tunes again and again. In several speeches and soundbites Brown declared that he "would do what it takes" - in contrast to the Conser vatives, who were the "do nothing party", a phrase that hit home according to the ubiquitous focus groups (both main parties are using them even more intensely than ever).

But the present crisis is so great and so frightening that a few slogans will not sweep a long-serving government back into power. Since the pre-Budget report at the end of last year, the opposite has applied at times to the two positive factors that helped to give Brown a bounce. First, some of the headline-grabbing announcements have proved to be less substantial on closer examination. Second, the narrative has been less vividly clear.

Is Brown making a managerial, pragmatic response to unique circumstances, or acting with a strong sense of ideological direction? His New Year message suggested that he was opting for the latter course, as he declared with a confident flourish: "When the history books come to be written - 2008 will largely be remembered for the scale of the great economic and financial crisis. A year in which an old era of unbridled free-market dogma was finally ushered out.

"And I want 2009 to be the year when the dawn of a new progressive era breaks across the world: purposeful and energetic governments giving real help to families and businesses when they need it the most . . ."

Brown would not have dared to write such a passage at any point in the past. He has never been a supporter of unbridled free markets and has always had a faith in the benevolent power of government. Yet he has never articulated his views so distinctly, fearing an unstoppable onslaught from those powerful forces that worshipped at the altar of the Reagan/ Thatcher orthodoxies. There were quite a few worshippers within his party, too.

However, a few days after the publication of the powerfully argued message, Brown gave his annual New Year interview to Andrew Marr, almost as important a part of the political year as the Queen's Speech or the party conference address: a chance to set the agenda, to change the course a little after everyone has had a break from politics. Here Brown was more the apolitical father of the nation: "By the way, this is not a debate between Keynesians and monetarists. All economists agree that if the economy cannot move because private-sector activity is not working and the markets are not working to the best effect, then the government has got to step in . . ."

By implication, Brown was trying to isolate the British Conservative Party from the rest of the world and in particular every economist on the planet. Yet, in doing so, he made his message sound much less rooted. In effect, he was saying: "Look, anyone would do what we are doing except that crazed, isolated David Cameron."

Cabinet ministers have different explanations for what is happening. In the area of policy, some worry that Brown rushes out statements, demanding announcements before they are ready in order to feed the news machine and to convey a sense of around-the-clock activity. As a result, some of the policies are not as well prepared as they should be. The plan to protect borrowers from repossession was one example cited to me by a concerned minister. The plan was more fragile than first appearances suggested. Another was the premature announcement about the reduction in knife crime, a move condemned by the body the Prime Minister had set up to monitor the government's statistics.

I get the impression that the reasons for this sometimes contradictory presentation are more complicated than that. Allies suggest that Brown is still debating quite how to make his case in the most daunting of economic circumstances. But some of them hope the internal debate is resolved and Brown will make a significant break with new Labour's past by worrying less about the reaction of newspapers. Naturally, he still obsesses about neutering them or getting their endorsement at the next election. But I am told it might not be the stifling, overwhelming obsession it was. Younger-generation ministers have pointed out to him the waning influence of newspapers in the internet era. As one cabinet minister put it to me: "I care more about the reports on BBC Online than the Daily Mail." If Brown can break away from the constant fear of attacks from some newspapers it is possible his narrative will become clearer.

For a leader who seeks a big tent of support, the case for ideological clarity is the least risky option. Labour could not win a fourth term pleading a bland, managerial competence if the economy was doing fairly well. It cannot do so for sure amid the likely carnage of the coming months. But Brown can claim to be more comfortable with an active government philosophy required to address the crisis.

David Cameron and George Osborne have demonstrated in their first years at the helm that they are highly skilful politicians. At the very least they have learned the art of opposition, quite a breakthrough for a party that had repeatedly fallen into an ever bigger vote-losing trap since 1997. In recent months, the duo have been less self-assured. That is not because, as if by magic, Cameron and Osborne have lost their political skills. Instead, those skills are challenged by a sweeping change of assumptions about markets and the role of the state. They are still highly accomplished tacticians, but unavoidably they struggle in the new landscape. For Brown, this should be reason enough to present a tight narrative based partly on a battle of ideas.

In some ways Cameron offered a model on 5 January, when he opened his New Year onslaught with a speech on the economy. The ideas were muddled, hailing public investment in France and Sweden while proposing an uncosted cut in public spending for Britain. Perhaps he got away with it because the speech was constructed perfectly, a piece of political art. Cameron copies Blair, the last leader capable of making some sort of narrative out of virtually every situation.

As a result, Cameron tells a three-tiered story on the economy, arguing that the Conservatives are winning the battle about the past (and the argument about who was to blame for the crisis); are starting to prevail over who is best to deal with the situation now; and are offering hopes of a rosier future. In response, Brown must engage with fresh language about why he did what he did when the sun was shining, ensure the current daily policy announcements withstand intense media scrutiny and offer accessible visions of what he would do if and when the sun shines again.

Imagine Blair in this moment, with his martyred expression, telling a story about how his radical past connected with his crusading future. Consider how Thatcher would have related the shapeless global economic nightmare to her experiences living in a well-run shop in Grantham. Recall Major during his successful period up to the 1992 election explaining calmly but engagingly over a fried breakfast at a Little Chef how he was sorting things out.

Brown has been characteristically astute in rearranging the political choreography. From winning the Labour leadership in 2007 to saving it last autumn, he knows how to marshal a formidable political force. For the time being, nearly everyone from Barack Obama to Alan Milburn is on his part of the dance floor. Once more he seeks to prove that he dances with the many and not the few. But the tunes are incomplete and are broken up by attempts at quick hits that are born out of a frenzied desire to be seen to be acting. In the coming months, Brown needs to watch every step and make sure he explains clearly why he moves in directions that appear to be the opposite of those he took when he danced with Prudence alone. Without making sense of it all, no leader can win any election, and certainly not the next one.

Steve Richards is chief political commentator for the Independent

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