Last week, something massive, unpredictable and profoundly uncomfortable happened that changed everything. Forget the whole leader of the free world business. Ed Balls did Gangnam Style on Strictly Come Dancing.
He actually went there … And what a sight to behold.
The man who could have been chancellor. Gordon Brown’s former bruiser. The man whose idea of small talk was once endogenous growth theory shimmied round the dance floor, swayed his hips and ran his hands up and down his (strangely non-shrinking) body, mouthing the words: “Oooooooooooh, sexy laaaydeee …”
We all had high hopes for Balls on Strictly, but none of us could have ever predicted these dizzying highs – not even his wife Yvette Cooper, who watches every week with the expression of a mother watching her over-enthusiastic toddler at a dancing display.
Balls is the most popular politician in Britain right now. And never mind his quite astonishing dance moves, he’s achieving amazing things in politics too. He brought some much needed squeals of joy and tears of laughter to a nation freshly traumatised by “The Donald” and he’s even managing to briefly unify the Labour party.
People who were at war on Facebook over Jeremy Corbyn versus Owen Smith a few months ago are now sharing clips with each other with loads of smiley faces and posting comments such as: “I honestly think Ed Balls may be the man to save British politics” and “cannot unsee/cannot stop watching Ed Balls clips”.
But amid all the jolliness and national love-bombing is a note of caution. Although Balls brings me immediate Saturday night pleasure (words I never thought I would write), I have to admit that it’s a bit like that momentary high you feel when you have a giant slice of cake (or the whole cake) and then you’re left with a massive sugar crash and a smidgen of depression and self-loathing. Balls on Strictly is the equivalent of comfort eating for us politicos and our hysteria is masking a rather difficult question.
Is this the best that British politics can muster right now? Is this it? Really? Dressed up as the Mask? Really?
To which the answer is probably a whispery: “Yes, yes, it is.”
Let’s be honest. In the face of such big, complicated, unsettling and seemingly unstoppable national and global events, which generate anger and fear, defiance and despair in equal measure, who do we have to look to to guide us? Where are those senior, trusted voices of political wisdom, reassurance, confidence, calm and hope? Sorry, the Obamas don’t count.
We rightly do not have a culture of political deference but when the shit is hitting the fan, we do expect some semblance of leadership. Someone who can, just for a moment, tap into how people are feeling, capture the national mood and offer us some comfort, even if it’s fleeting. I say this without agenda because I get how divided the county is – but even an honest, thoughtful acknowledgment of the fragile situation we find ourselves in would be a start. People are crying out for a political leader who can do some basic communicating and emoting with some courage and integrity. Sadiq Khan and Nicola Sturgeon are offering leadership in their respective patches, but there is a lack of national presence. We have a new prime minister who is strangely mute on the really big issues; our key cabinet players are out of their depth and our official opposition is impotent. We’re looking for a political hero. Or at least a political human.
Which is one reason why Balls has become our Saturday night feel-good factor beyond his smile-inducing exuberance. He represents politics but it’s nice, and dusted in sparkles and sequins. It’s humble, it’s smiling, it’s trying its best, it’s not afraid of looking daft and it’s sweating quite a lot. Strictly has offered Balls redemption and he’s grabbed it with both hands. He’s shown he can be popular and connect with the public. He’s made the public fall in love with him. And his recent pronouncements on politics have been spot on.
And who else could be on the Today programme talking about central bank independence and deflationary forces, before segueing seamlessly into clarifying that he will not be fired out of a cannon in Blackpool tomorrow, but that he will be lowered from the roof by a rope. Surely that is the new test for politics?
And there we have the disruption and chaos of politics. We live in an age when a reality TV celebrity can become president of the US, while in the UK the only thing one of our finest political figures could win is Strictly Come Dancing.
And that’s the thing that makes his rampant popularity so “glitter sweet”.
It would be different if Balls were taking a mini-break from politics – a salsa sabbatical – and coming back, but he’s not, is he? As accustomed as he has become to facing the public vote every weekend, facing the Labour party for selection probably strikes more fear in his heart than Katya, his dance partner, suggesting the paso doble or Dirrty by Christina Aguilera.
But whether he lifts the trophy or not, I think politics needs Balls back. And I think Labour needs him – because whatever you think of him, the guy’s figured out how to win votes.
