The creation of hope is a vital but risky part of democratic politics. Leaders or would-be leaders who arouse hope attract supporters, motivate activists, achieve momentum and win over voters – and then have a chance of holding together political parties, governments and societies in harder times. From Barack Obama to Clement Attlee, Salvador Allende to Zohran Mamdani, leaders from across the left in particular have heavily relied on hope to launch and sustain their ruling projects.

Meanwhile, an absence of hope has quickly doomed other left of centre governments. Keir Starmer’s decision, only eight weeks into his premiership, to summon the media to the Downing Street garden and tell them that “things will get worse before we get better” in the UK was a mistake from which his administration never recovered. In a society where most lives have been getting harder since the 2008 financial crisis, Starmer’s downbeat manner, however justified by the deep problems he inherited from the Tories, was not an emotional register that much of the electorate desired.

Andy Burnham seems less likely to make that error. A more emotionally literate politician, he crammed his Makerfield victory speech with upbeat language. “Tonight could, just could, be the turning point,” he said. “Bringing back something we’ve lost – hope – hope for the future … There is a chance now … to build a new politics based on unity and hope. Turning away from the path that takes us to a divided, dark politics.”

At times, his surge towards Downing Street, despite all the obstacles placed in front of him by the Labour right and Reform UK, has been a seductive advertisement for the power of positive politics. On Monday, as I was reading an expansive set of policy proposals for a Burnham government........

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