All views are my own

I’m in my office watching Andy Burnham give his by-election victory speech, and he’s wearing a polo shirt. For a moment like this he’s definitely put thought into his outfit. Consistently we’re seeing politicians and world leaders dressing down, here what that says to me.

Historically, court dress and the powdered wig signaled authority that came from birth and proximity to the crown. As we moved towards the frock coat and then modern suit the dress was distinct from aristocratic themes to signal authority derived from seriousness and competence over birthright.

In the past a politician dressed up to fill a role bigger than themselves, to signal deference to the office you held or were campaigning to hold. Today, you dress to be yourself, to make sure the person still shows through the office.

The suit Burnham was not wearing today was once the casual option itself, the relaxed thing that pushed aside the frock coat and morning dress as we moved through the nineteenth century, as more outsiders from outside the aristocracy came into politics

In this vein the tie was, for a long time, aspirational. It was the working man’s Sunday best, the thing you put on to dress up into respectability. At some point not wearing it stopped seeming scruffy and started seeming as powerful, personable. The founder in the hoodie, the president in fatigues, the mayor in the polo shirt.

Dressing down has become a mark of status, so everyone who wanted to look like they had status started doing it. The open collar is the anti-uniform, the individual refusing the stuffiness of Westminster. But it is the uniform now, worn by challengers and incumbents, all of them signalling that they are not the establishment.

The tie did not go because we got comfortable. It stood for the office over the person, and we have stopped trusting offices and started preferring people, the direct voice, the personal brand. What has gone missing along with it is the thing the tie held in place, the sense that the role outlasts whoever happens to be filling it, the security of our immortal institutions.

Once the costume of authenticity becomes universal it stop meaning anything, maybe the sensible political move is to put the tie back on.

I don’t think the interesting question is whether ties, or for that matter, suits, are finished. It is whether we still want to be governed by offices or only by personalities, and what it means that the uniform of the outsider is now being worn by those in power.