𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓼

When Andy Burnham is asked how he spent his honeymoon, he can say: “I ate pork scratchings with John Healey.” The new prime minister found time in his first week in office to shoot a video in which he sits in a pub with the Chancellor and the pair sample and rank a selection of bar snacks.

Margaret Thatcher surprised the nation when she took power by quoting a prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi. Mr Burnham may be remembered for debating the merits of scampi fries with the man responsible for the nation’s finances.

As the Prime Minister gazes fondly at a packet of pork scratchings, he says: “It’s old school, but we are quite old school, aren’t we, me and you?” In the court of the King of the North, you win points by for expertise in snackology.

In the video, Mr Burnham springs a question on Mr Healey: “When did you last buy a pack of pork scratchings in a pub?”

The Chancellor doesn’t miss a beat: “Two weeks ago.” You can tell the PM is impressed.

This video has already clocked up millions of views and will have been watched by the ambassadors of foreign governments whose job it is to explain what on earth is going on in Britain. In Pyongyang, staffers are probably studying the ingredients of KP Nuts while bright minds in Washington DC design Burnham-themed beer mats in advance of his first visit to the US.

But in northern towns and cities there may well be deep groans. Britain is in a position of profound financial fragility, living standards have largely stalled since the financial crisis, there are very real worries about war in Europe – and Mr Burnham and Mr Healey are off on a nostalgia trip which is somehow intended to appeal to Labour’s core vote – many of whom may well feel patronised.

What next? Will they climb into a tub together and test out their favourite childhood bubble baths? After all, Bill Clinton did not shy away from telling an MTV audience MTV that he usually preferred wearing briefs to boxers.

The danger is that Britons will look at the pair and – to quote Brian Cox in his role as Succession’s Logan Roy – say: “You are not serious people.”

Of course there is room for levity in politics but there is a serious strategy here. Mr Burnham is not churning out videos between his security briefings and sit-downs with ministers because there is not enough in his red box to occupy his lively mind. This is a PM who wants to be an online influencer, who is desperate to shape his public image on his own terms.

Rather than host a joint interview and face pesky questions about frozen tax thresholds, debt interest, nationalisation, tax plans and the future of the triple lock, they perched at a bar for a charming but ultimately inane conversation. Why risk looking evasive by dodging questions about the economy when you can dodge interviews altogether?

Labour has form on avoiding scrutiny. Sir Keir’s team scrapped the afternoon lobby session when journalists could ask a Government spokesman any question.

The fact is that for years politicians submitted themselves to interviews not because they believed scrutiny of the powerful is necessity in a democracy but because this was a vital way of communicating with voters. Today, Mr Burnham would rather go on social media to share his running playlist than answer questions about Britain’s future relationship with the European Union.

Mr Burnham’s latest wheeze is to create what looks like a parody of The Office, with himself in the David Brent role. He takes the viewer on a tour of Number 10 North office, pointing to a gold disc on the wall for The Smiths’ The Queen is Dead.

“I need to return that to Johnny Marr, actually,” he says, subtly reminding us he is a very well-connected man.

In a jump into an attempt at outright comedy, he then tries to stop the cameraman clocking that he has been watching online videos on how to make the perfect cup of tea. This is a self-deprecating nod to a TikTok video in which he opined on why he put the milk in first.

In another video he goes jogging with Olympic hero Mo Farah. “See how much love you’re getting, Andy,” the gold medal winner tells him.

This is a lovely moment which Mr Burnham will cherish, but it is hardly Prime Minister’s Questions. The PM could have extended the parliamentary session so he could make a statement to the country’s elected representatives about his priorities in government but chose not to.

We should not be po-faced about public figures having some online fun, though many Britons will despair at further proof of the dumbing-down of the nation. But there is something a little sinister and depressing here about the PM’s artfully staged antics.

These videos create the appearance of candour right at the moment when the press and MPs are crying out for opportunities to question the PM.

He is casting himself as friendly and rather harmless straight after staging the ruthless and brilliantly orchestrated toppling of Sir Keir Starmer, who won a landslide just two years ago. The danger for Mr Burnham was that he would arrive in Downing Street looking like a master of machine politics; this is a man who was not even an MP a matter of weeks ago and has arrived in Number 10 without even fighting a leadership contest.

This is why it makes sense for him to portray himself as the country’s groovy northern uncle, a man who will buy you pork scratchings and tell you about the time he strummed guitar with Aziz Ibrahim.

When he shuffled the cabinet, grinning ministers were one by one videoed shaking his hand – and some got a hug. These clips were released online, and you couldn’t help feeling it was a humiliating moment for Bridget Phillipson.

She is a true case study in social mobility, having been raised by her mum in a home with no upstairs heating in the former mining town of Washington. Ms Phillipson has been stripped of her education responsibilities which have been handed to Burnham ally Lucy Powell.

Ms Phillipson has kept the women and equalities brief but must be disappointed she will not get to push through the next wave of her ambitions for young people. We can only imagine how she felt about having to play happy families before an online audience.

Our PM and Chancellor are much more than bar-snacking pals. They are two Cambridge-educated men who have spent decades in politics and learned to wear their power and privilege lightly.

There is a long history of Labour politicians cloaking their elite status by emphasising their connections to the country’s passions at every opportunity. Who can forget now-Sir Tony Blair heading a football with Kevin Keegan?

That tradition has gone into overdrive under Mr Burnham.

Yes, this is northern dominated cabinet – an analysis by the Times found 43% were born in north of England. But it is also one in which 54% attended Oxford or Cambridge, compared with 39% in Sir Keir’s first cabinet.

This is why Britons have witnessed the spectacle of a PM with a bag of crisps turning to his Chancellor and saying before the nation: “I’m imagining a crisp butty with these. Do people eat crisp butties in Harlow, do you think, or is it a northern thing?”

Mr Healey thought they would.

Perhaps the pair will keep a stash of pork scratchings in Downing Street so they can thrash out defence funding and welfare reform with similar ease? But there is every change the traditional tensions between Number 10 and Number 11 will soon surface. There is a moment in the video when Mr Healey tells Mr Burnham to “hold your hand out” and he funnels nuts into his palm. Given the state of Britain’s finances, that could be the last Treasury giveaway for a long time.