Please Gordon, don't Brown nose to the culture of trivia

Asked if he got down on one knee to propose, the Prime Minister writhed like a crab being winkled from its protective shell.

"No, I uh, I … (Mr Brown appeared to have forgotten what a knee was] … I didn't do that."

An unnaturally loud burst of audience laughter erupted – canned or just relieved, it was hard to tell. Then the man responsible for our deployment of nuclear warheads sat upright in his chair, like a small boy suddenly determined to get an awful moment over quickly.

"I said, well I think we should get married. Soon. Please."

The audience laughed again and Sarah Brown looked mock-mortified, like the stagestruck 17-year-old she so evidently is not.

"Well, at least you did say please," said Morgan.

And then, mercifully, the 30-second clip was over.

It was horrible to watch.

But it may yet have boosted Gordon Brown's low ratings – for one reason.

He is so obviously one of us.

Brown looks as grim as most of us feel.

He looks as uneasy in the superficial, bling-focussed world he has helped create as most of us.

His face doesn't fit – and clearly he has no idea why. He's tried the rictus grin, the empathy, the sincerity – none of it has worked.

He's trying too hard, like a capable person trapped in a world of gush and superficiality. Like a man longing to scream, "I'm a serious politician – get me out of here," who must instead endure every irrelevant, privacy-invading moment to curry favour.

It's torture for Brown and degrading for the audience. And yet as we watch his descent into tabloid, smalltalk hell, a communal question is forming. What is it about being prime minister of this hopeless, spendthrift country that can possibly justify the effort, the pain, the knock backs, the humiliation and the constant failure? The greater Brown's communication gaffes, the more we privately marvel at his stamina and determination. After every public stumble, after everything David Cameron and the media flings at him, Gordon Brown gets up, brushes himself down, pins on the false smile and comes back for more. In the name of … what?

Survival, habit, belief, power-lust … guilt?

Despite all his upbeat reassuring words about the economy, Gordon Brown looks like a guy who took a machine apart to see how it works and can't put it together again. And the machine is our society, our economy. We know this, and yet we – the voting public – have not kicked him into touch or "sealed the deal" with his Tory rival. Why not?

It takes a great deal of courage to live in Britain these days. That's only apparent after living for a while in Scandinavia.

There, generally speaking, everything works.

Norway is a classless society whose oil fund is Europe's largest investor. Sweden is still a society committed to equality, balance, co-operation and free education for all. Denmark is an economic and social powerhouse. The Finnish chief of Nokia suggests the Nordic model may be the way forward. The Nordics start each day knowing their efforts are generally not in vain. Living here is different.

Here you need courage to try, courage to believe, and courage to get motivated. Maybe not Dunkirk-style courage. But courage all the same.

Dogged courage Gordon Brown clearly has in spades.

The man in charge of the entire public sector in Britain has no job security. He looks like many self-employed people feel. Anxious.

With very good reason. Only a fool would appear otherwise.

And quite evidently through all the lightweight chat and TV flummery, Brown can think of nothing but fixing the machine.

His very inability to small talk seems to prove how much he cares about the big issues that are never far from voters' minds either.

Gordon Brown is evidently intending to plod on until election day, going through the motions, keeping his (unfashionable) head down, his (uneven) teeth gritted, and waiting for things to get better.

And his normally upbeat, intelligent wife has opted to dumb down too.

Appearing this weekend on mumsnet – the online site where Gordon famously dithered over naming his favourite biscuit – Sarah Brown admired the style of Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, wife of the French president, and Graca Machel, wife of former South African president Nelson Mandela.

Ms Sarkozy is doubtless a smart lady who quit a modelling career to write her own songs and maintain an independent career. But placing her in the same sentence as Graca Machel is a travesty.

Before Ms Machel married Nelson Mandela, she was education minister in Mozambique, where she spent 12 per cent of the national budget on schools, a rare feat in Africa. Within five years she cut illiteracy by 22 per cent and quadrupled the school-going population. Carla managed to transform her career, Graca tried to transform a continent.

This is the dilemma serious-minded Britons face – the trivialisation of evidence and effort in our world.

Serious minded Gordon and Sarah Brown could be our champions – but they are not.

Instead of challenging the tyranny of gossip, emotionalism and sentiment, they have succumbed to it.

Ironically, in proving that he is no slick-talking Teflon Tony, Shock Absorber Gordon may yet have won a few votes.

But voters deserve more.

Gordon Brown's failing is not an inability to convey emotion, but an inability to convey anything.

I don't want to watch Gordon Brown attempting to "show his passion". Neither do I want to watch him trot out tired old truisms.

I want my spirits lifted, my intelligence recognised, my hope rekindled.

An act of leadership on Valentine's Day.

Was that too much to wish for?