Keir Starmer became UK Prime Minister in July on a wave of public disgruntlement with the previous Conservative regime. Normally, new Prime Ministers get a honeymoon period when the public gives them the benefit of the doubt and time to get themselves bedded in. However, Starmer’s approval ratings have plummeted almost instantly as journalists (and opposition activists) uncover what seems to be a long-running weakness for freebies. Whether complimentary tickets to see Taylor Swift, a designer dress for his wife or £2000 designer spectacles, Starmer has topped the list of MPs accepting such ‘gifts’ since 2019, racking up two and a half times as many goodies in terms of value as the MP in second place.

“This is small beer compared to what happened under the Tories!” cry Starmer’s defenders “Think about the dodgy PPE contracts for their mates, the lockdown parties, the eye-wateringly expensive wallpaper!”

This is both correct and beside the point. The difficulty Starmer has is he has spent the last four years preaching about the sins of the Tories, promising a regime of service and a return to values. The revelations of an apparently luxury lifestyle funded by others runs against this pious grain (I was expecting grim Gordon Brown-style parsimony from him myself) and is in stark contrast to his Government’s announcement of the withdrawal of winter fuel allowances from most pensioners. The public hates hypocrisy, and the press delights in uncovering it, particularly if it is the right wing press exposing a left of centre politician. In many ways, Starmer is hoist by his own petard of naivety.

This saga reminds me of the time I had a coffee with a client in the funky atrium cafe at their headquarters. At the end of our conversation, she realised she still had half a cup of (now) cold tea in the disposable cups we had been served (one to fix, I know). Normally unflappable, she looked around frantically for somewhere to drain the cup so she could put it in the recycling bin. Just as she was considering necking the unappetising liquid, she spotted a sink and drained it, sighing a sigh of relief. “I can’t be seen not to recycle even a single cup,” she explained “It would undermine everything I’m trying to do.”

Objectively, one cup going in the ‘wrong’ bin is negligible compared to the huge Sustainability achievements that this woman had driven through the organisation (and the rest of her sector), but she was intensely aware that, as they say in politics, ‘the optics matter’.

So what lessons can we learn from these contrasting stories?

• Don’t preach or present yourself as being on a moral mission: it is inevitable that you will fall short of perfection and if you are believed to have elevated yourself above the crowd, people will batter you for it, whether in the press or by the water-cooler.
• Sweat the little stuff: everybody understands day to day stuff like disposable cups/cutlery, recycling, the type of car you drive etc, in a way they won’t get the circular economy or a move to a product-service system – so make sure you are seen to be doing what you are asking others to do and not only when people are watching.
• If you’re explaining, you’re losing (© Ronald Reagan): don’t fool yourself you can explain stuff away after the event, you usually just end up digging yourself a deeper hole – get the optics right first time.

Optics matter.