Kenny Farquharson: We'll never love Brown, if he can't

THE chances of Gordon Brown taking advice from an advertising slogan for women's moisturising cream are, I admit, pretty slim. He's as likely to do Prime Ministers Questions in slingbacks and a feather boa. So Brown will probably ignore the many friends around him this weekend who are sounding like an Oil of Olay ad: "Gordon, you really must try to love the skin you're in."

Being comfortable in your own skin is essential in politics. It's a precondition for success. You can see it in the way Barack Obama walks and the way Alex Salmond smiles. Yet Brown has never managed to demonstrate this, even in the best of times. Insouciance is beyond him. He perpetually has the look of a man wondering if he has left the gas on, even though he checked twice before leaving the house. How can Brown ask for the public's vote of confidence when he himself is so obviously racked with self-doubt?

As Labour ponders last week's humiliation at the hands of the Tories, there's much predictable talk about reconnecting with voters' core values, of tackling binge drinking, of a new push on failing schools and welfare reform. What won't be mentioned in the Downing Street brain-storming sessions is the truth that's plain to everyone else in the country – that Brown doesn't have what it takes to win the next general election.

Last week's results aren't a failure of political strategy, or even a result of global financial uncertainty. First and foremost they are the result of Brown's failure to connect with the British people. Of course it's true the public has been worried about the economy – recent months have seen hikes in the cost of petrol, food, gas and electricity, while house prices are on the slide and a shadow of job insecurity creeps across the land. A recession, however, does not automatically mean the defeat of a government. If that were true, Margaret Thatcher's premiership would have lasted three years, not 11.

In a recession, voters look at their political leaders and ask themselves who they can trust. This was meant to be Brown's primary strength – he was the best politician to have at the helm when the economic waters became choppy. This, however, requires more than a talent for Treasury wonkery. It requires the communication skills that Brown so obviously lacks. With the credit crunch biting, Brown should have been projecting an image of confidence and reliability. All we saw was the bitten nails. He should have been reassuring the country that although times were tough, he would ensure Britain fared better than our competitors. All we saw was a worried man with his back against the wall.

Personality matters. Like it or not, our politics is now quasi-presidential. We choose a leader, not a party. I bet that Labour's poor showing last week was as much to do with Brown's cringeworthy appearance on American Idol – grinning like a manic Max Headroom – as it was to do with arguments about 10p tax bands. Brown last week accused his Tory rival David Cameron of being "a shallow salesman". Well, it's better than being no salesman at all.

For as a man marinated in politics for decades, Brown seems incapable of grasping the importance of connecting with people. He is crippled by his lack of social skills. Critics often sneered at Tony Blair, saying he was just a good actor. This was undoubtedly true. But he struck his poses for a purpose. He understood that when he was making a statement on a matter of national or international importance, the public paid as much attention to his body language and his tone of voice as they did to what he was saying.

Some might argue this is simply flannel. But when the job in hand is to convince voters the entire British economy isn't going to come crashing down around their heads, this is not a skill to be sniffed at. Brown, it's now clear, doesn't have it.

What the job of Prime Minister requires is a talent for empathy. It needs Brown to be able to look the British people in the eye and tell them he feels their pain. Hard to imagine, I know, and that's the measure of Labour's problem. The broadcaster Nicky Campbell put his finger on it last week when he asked the PM on Five Live what his first thought was on waking up. Brown replied with a long list that included worries about home owners and shared equity schemes. Wow, said Campbell, Blair would just have said he fancied a cup of coffee.

Labour is stuck with Brown. Any attempt to change leaders now would be punished by the electorate. The party will have to wait for him to be defeated in a general election in two years' time before it can move into its next phase – the task of regrouping in opposition. When that time comes there are some credible contenders – the most convincing being Alan Johnson, the Health Secretary, who is tipped for promotion in this summer's cabinet reshuffle.

So, what can Brown do? He could try listening to friends and love the skin he's in. Stop grinning like an idiot. Stop talking in that strange mid-Atlantic accent. Put a little less starch in the shirt collars. It probably won't work, but it'll make the next two years a lot more bearable for everyone. If he's going to lose, he should lose as himself.

Just look in the mirror, Gordon, and repeat the following words: "Because I'm worth it..."