Not waving but drowning

Tory contenders took the chance to show their real selves to the party faithful. If only they hadn't, writes Joe Murphy

- Joe Murphy

"Let's be more normal," said James Cleverly. Then grinned to show he didn't really mean it. After all, if you are appealing for votes to the minuscule sliver of society that attends Tory conference, it's probably best not to antagonise the hall by being against weird people.

Facing the Birmingham stage was the electorate that will pick the next leader of His Majesty's Loyal Opposition and perhaps future prime minister. Elderly, mainly white, outmoded in speech and dress. A “deatherendum” unfolding. As Robert Jenrick unkindly observed, a sixth of Tory supporters won’t survive to vote in the next election. Some looked as if they might not last the conference.

The four contestants were introduced by chief whip Stuart Andrew, who joked that he might bump them off, like Francis Urquhart in the original House of Cards. That won a titter, not least from Michael Gove and George Osborne, two veterans of Tory-style games of murder in the dark. For three days, the contestants for the Conservative leadership have exhibited all the gravitas of four drunks shouting in the back of a passing Uber.

Finally, it was the climax of the week, the chance to pose on stage like an actual leader with an audience of 1,900 and show their real selves. First up was Tom Tugendhat, widely portrayed as the most grown-up, though he chose not to parade those attributes. The lectern was removed, signalling he would “do a Cameron” and speak without notes. A campaign video then showed images of Tom, clad in khaki, serving in Afghanistan, gun at the ready.