Every new Prime Minister inherits the same stage.
The black door of Number 10, the polished railings, the assembled media and Larry the cat. But that’s never all. When the familiar Downing Street lectern gets dispatched, we know history will once again be forged. It’s such an established part of British political theatre that most of us barely notice it anymore. That’s unless you’re subscribed to the ‘podium guy fan club’ in which case the lectern is (almost always) the centre of attention. Wink, wink.
But there was something different this time when Burnham strode forward. He had his distinct voice and customary accent. But no lectern. Just two perfectly positioned microphones in front of him like obedient supporters tapped into his every comment.
It would be easy to dismiss this ‘no lectern’ choice as a production decision. But I don’t think it was. Leaders communicate long before they utter their first sentence. The physical environment they choose is part of the message. Whether consciously or instinctively, Burnham’s first appearance outside Downing Street suggested he wanted to create a different relationship with the UK public.
I have a love / hate relationship with the trusty lectern. On the one hand it’s a symbol of authority. A physical talisman to signal a big speech or moment is due to happen. It reinforces the formality of an occasion and subtly reminds us that this is someone speaking from a position of institutional power. Heck, it’s also somewhere super convenient to leave notes!
In moments of national crisis, that symbolism can be reassuring. Think back to the big Covid speeches, state of the nation addresses or political changes. It’s hard to come by these days, but audiences crave certainty, structure and visible control. A lectern contributes to that impression before the speaker has even opened their mouth.
But removing it changes the dynamic. It dissolves the physical barrier between speaker and audience. Makes the speech feel less like an official announcement and more like a conversation.
Which is better? Neither to be honest. Just like a theatre production, every staging decision is designed to send a signal. Set designers are aware that not all decisions will be liked. Any maybe, in this 24/7 skip, scroll, scan generation of information consumption, we need to be more arresting, more direct when we communicate. Remove the physical barriers, level the playing field, get real with people.
The second thing that caught my attention was where Burnham chose to look. Rather than addressing the journalists gathered outside Number 10, he repeatedly looked straight down the barrel of the camera lens.
That might not sound earth-shattering, but it’s one of the biggest shifts in executive communications over the past decade. We see it time again. CEOs taking to their phones to deliver a direct message to their audiences when unfiltered dialogue is needed. The public has become judge and jury in many cases – they have shown that how they feel matters. It might explain the seven Prime Ministers in 10 years thing.
The audience standing in front of you is rarely your ‘real audience’ anymore. Whether you’re a business leader having to defend poor earnings, a politician announcing a new policy or a spokesperson for The Met Police speaking after a catastrophic policing decision, the people who matter are often watching remotely. They’re seeing your speech on television, LinkedIn, YouTube or their phone live, or several hours later. The camera is no longer recording the event; for most viewers, it is the event.
Leaders who understand that don’t simply speak to the room. They speak through the room to everyone else. Whenever leaders depart from convention, the word that inevitably gets used is “authenticity”. Personally, I think we’ve become rather lazy with that term.
Authenticity isn’t about abandoning a lectern or wandering around a stage without notes. Those are stylistic choices. What matters is whether those choices reinforce the leadership story you’re trying to tell. There needs to be alignment between visual cues and verbal messages for things to line up. That’s why I think the real lesson from Burnham’s speech isn’t political at all. It’s about communication strategy.
One exercise I often use in media training is to ask people to watch a speech with the sound muted. It’s remarkable how much you can infer purely from the visual signals. Does the leader appear confident? Comfortable? Defensive? Approachable? Are they speaking at people or to them?
The audience is making those judgements too, whether consciously or not.
This is something we spend a lot of time exploring through TEAM LEWIS’ AI powered Training for Trust service. Built in-house by our expert team of innovators, Training for Trust combines deep biometric analysis with message delivery analytics to prove how leadership trust is built through consistently solid delivery.
So, the next time you’re preparing yourself or a leader for the stage or the camera, ask yourself these questions:
- How will audiences judge my whole performance? Language, body language, eye contact, vocal variety, speed, environment and behaviour blend to create a perception.
- Is this performance believable? The most trusted leaders understand that every communication choice either reinforces that judgement or weakens it.
- Am I getting caught up in the stylistics of the delivery? And is this at the expense of the overall communications strategy? Work back from the behaviour / mindset you’re trying to shift.
Whether yesterday’s speech becomes Andy Burnham’s signature style remains to be seen. It may simply reflect how he is most comfortable communicating. But it was a useful reminder that the most powerful messages are not always spoken.
Sometimes they’re conveyed by the things that aren’t there at all. Maybe we finally have someone in Downing Street that has spent time learning how to do it properly?
