No more Mr Nice Guy, no more Mr Clean. Andy Burnham, once the altar boy of British politics, has been threatened with a libel action for some nudge-nudge, wink-wink insinuations about David Davis, the former shadow home secretary, and Shami Chakrabarti, director of Liberty, the civil liberties organisation.

In an out-of-character interview with the Blairite magazine, Progress, the culture secretary sniggered: “I find something very curious in the man who was, and still is I believe, an exponent of capital punishment having late-night, hand-wringing, heart-melting phone calls with Shami Chakrabarti.”

Hark at Burnham’s sexism. And what first attracted the attractive and happily married director of Liberty to the broken-nosed Tory elder statesman? The first rule of the unofficial ministerial code of conduct is to leave crass innuendo to one of Alastair Campbell’s spin doctor successors or the National Union of Newspaper Columnists. Both “victims” have in any case lapped up the publicity.

Burnham compounded his error by not apologising gracefully. Instead he had an aide issue a weaselly “clarifying statement”: “No personal offence to Shami Chakrabarti was intended.” This was patently untrue. Offence was obviously intended but only among the circle of the magazine’s tiny readership. The culture secretary has been a bit free in his conversation too. He has now issued a non-apology apology.

A storm in a teacup? Of course. Every politician is entitled to say something stupid once or twice in his or her career. The studio boss Jack Warner mistakenly said of one Hollywood star’s political ambitions: “Ronald Reagan for best friend, surely? Jimmy Stewart for president.” Burnham, 38, has hitherto risen fast by taking the amiable Reagan route, but this row is as good a symbol as any of the government’s predicament. It has become the nasty party or, rather, something worse than that: the weak, nasty party.

Margaret Thatcher earned respect by following the dictum of the Emperor Caligula: “I don’t care if they hate me as long as they fear me.” The Soviet Union, Argentina, the miners, the printers and the liberal intelligentsia eventually got the message. Hers was indeed the triumph of the iron will. Contrariwise, Tony Blair’s electoral triumphs (and his many governmental failures) owed much to his desire to be liked by everyone, except socialists. The Tory charge of “new Labour, new danger” could never stick to the man dubbed “Bambi”. Best to make your mind up between these two modus operandi, Mr Brown.

At the height of John Major’s weak Conservative government, Helen Fielding’s heroine Bridget Jones vented her hatred against her boyfriend Mark Darcy’s pompous Tory-voting colleagues in a splendid rant: “It is perfectly obvious that Labour stands for the principle of sharing, kindness, gays, single mothers and Nelson Mandela, as opposed to braying bossy men having affairs with everyone shag-shag-shag left, right and centre and going to the Ritz in Paris and then telling all the presenters off on the Today programme.” Labour’s problem is that it is no longer obvious at all.

In fact, when Brown took away the 10p tax band from low earners in order to fund his “tax cuts”, the political narrative began to resemble the denouement of Animal Farm, not Bridget Jones. For pigs turning into humans, read new Labour politicians turning into old-style Tory Scrooges. Too late, the prime minister realised how appalling his move looked and made belated concessions.

I feel more sorry for Tom Harris, the transport minister who didn’t really mean to kick sand in the voters’ faces when he pointed out that “our citizens have never been so wealthy”, despite inflation and the credit crunch. Harris made the error of taking at face value what commentators always urge politicians to do — that is, “speak his mind frankly like a real human being”.

Churchmen and moralists, not politicians, are paid to tell us to count our blessings. When Harold Macmillan, the Conservative prime minister, declared with cheerful vulgarity that “many of us have never had it so good”, at least he had the sense to do it at the height of the 1950s post-war boom. Brown already has a problem with pretending to feel our pain: he can do without blundering assistance.

Take another, more glaring example of Labour misfortune. The country broadly supports authoritarian measures against terrorists, criminals and antisocial offenders. So the prime minister decided to get his 42 days pre-trial detention for terrorists: it was tough and nasty and perhaps he thought it really was the proper response to a new sophisticated threat.

He survived the Commons vote to get his draconian legislation through — just — but only after making some bizarre concessions and striking dirty deals. Within days the state’s tough stance on terrorism looked absurd when the courts released Abu Qatada, an alleged ideological mastermind of Al-Qaeda. A supposed enemy of the state is now in receipt of £1,000 a month in benefits from the taxpayer.

I have no desire to sacrifice my civil liberties, but this is ridiculous. What most people want is that dangerous people who misuse political asylum such as him are deported and human rights legislation to be altered accordingly. A weak government masquerading as a strong one is the worst of all possible worlds.

Nor was that the end of the matter. A batch of secret government documents on global terrorist funding was found on a London-bound train and handed to a newspaper. The BBC has also received another lost set of papers — it’s good to know that our tireless civil servants always take their work home with them. As Davis points out, the state that demands ever more information about us is a hopeless custodian of our secrets.

Alan Johnson, the chirpy health secretary, seems to be the only exception to the rule that the government has a hole where its heart should be. He has conceded a review on policy relating to patients who choose to pay privately for drugs not funded on the National Health Service. As this newspaper has revealed, the state has been inhumanely barring patients from treatment even if their doctors believe that the non-NHS approved drug would help them. But then Johnson is a rare natural communicator in this cabinet.

The government is suffering from the reversal of stereotypes. David Cameron’s achievement is not only to get his Tory party to look nice but to be nice. Look how he is all over the charities, voluntary organisations and do-gooders of every sort like a rash. It isn’t for ever but it is good enough for now.

Labour is finding it hard to compete. I don’t doubt Brown is not as nasty as he portrays himself. As chancellor he made friends by showing himself to be Africa’s friend and a good uncle to children born into poverty. However, it was the prime minister’s decision to play the tough guy and he has been found wanting.

It is hard for any long-serving government to show a smiling face. The government’s stock of goodwill was in any case used up by Blair in Iraq. Labour’s idealists are frustrated. The goal of equality looks incompatible with economic efficiency in a globalised world. To deliver social mobility is an uphill struggle. To improve public services, ministers believe that they have to threaten teachers, close schools, shout at doctors and put orange suits on young offenders. Intractable problems eventually provoke a shrill response.

At a seminar of former Blairites under the umbrella of Progress last week, I heard a number of sensible suggestions about how Labour could pursue a positive path to reform in government. However, a contribution from a newly wealthy but mournful sympathiser stuck in my memory: “But I joined Labour to create a more equal society; I don’t mind giving up more of my money if it helps.”

Most of those present did not favour higher taxes any more than I do — this is the tough new centre of British politics, after all — but his point resonates and not just among the government’s natural supporters. What is Gordon’s government doing that’s, well, nice?

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