Authenticity and the performance of ordinariness are increasingly attractive elements of a political candidate’s brand. Social media particularly can be a space to present the “no-filter self” using more casual language, posting images and videos of everyday situations and using emojis or memes – just like the average person would.
In terms of authenticity, at election times, being ordinary, approachable and in touch are seen as potential vote-winning attributes. In Canada’s 2025 election, for example, research has found that these strategies were seen as necessary to stop the candidates coming across as out of touch at a time when politicians might seem to be a breed apart.
This approach has been particularly effective for populist candidates. These political hopefuls often market themselves as anti-elitist outsiders, in keeping with their claim to be the true representatives of the people.
But whether authenticity is a performance or actually the unfiltered self is up for debate. In the Makerfield byelection, the latter appears to be case for Reform UK’s candidate, Robert Kenyon. His appearance on a special edition of the BBC’s Question Time on June 4 might have seemed unpolished, but it perhaps reflected a true performance of self.
Comments under a selection of excerpts of Kenyon on the programme, posted by the Reform UK account to YouTube, were very positive. Viewers described Kenyon as “sincere”, “no fluff, tells it like it is” and praised him as “a northern lad … says it as it is and not afraid to be challenged”.
The comments, although presumably from a supportive audience, suggest viewers felt Kenyon believed in what he said and spoke without a filter or script. Even when challenged on how some policies would be delivered, his response – that it was for the leadership to work out – had a ring of honesty. While Kenyon was challenged over historic tweets of a sexist nature, his choice of defence here was to highlight his ordinariness.
In another interview, Kenyon stated he is not a “career politician”. But he added that if he were Makerfield’s MP “people would feel like they had a voice now, whereas in the last 40 years they’ve not”. Excusing his “crass” social media posts, he argued that he is just “a local lad” and “not a polished professional”.
This framing is indicative of someone who believes sections of the electorate would be sympathetic to his argument – even if they find the content inappropriate.
‘Looked down on and left behind’
Like Hannah Spencer, who won the nearby constituency of Gorton and Denton for the Green party in a byelection in February 2026, Kenyon is a plumber. Spencer spoke about marginalised groups, including the white working class, in her maiden speech in the Commons, offering a sense of authentic representation.
She said: “I do know is what it feels like to be looked down on. To be let down and left behind. To be less worthy because of something about me.” Kenyon seems to be channelling similar notions of standing up for society’s underdogs on the basis that he is one of them, rather than a career politician.
Spencer and Kenyon, and their appeal to voters, partly represents something of a societal shift. The argument is that as more “ordinary” people become prominent – for example, as celebrities and influencers through mainstream and social media – they are viewed as more trustworthy. Elite figures, on the other hand, are seen as more remote.
The populist turn in politics is an equivalent phenomenon. Many people feel democracy is not working for them and that their elected representatives do not share their struggles. Even worse, some believe that those dominating political institutions are self-seeking and remote. Fieldwork, especially in post-industrial working-class areas has uncovered a rejection of mainstream politicians and a desire for so-called common-sense voices.
Demographically, Makerfield is similar (albeit with lower relative deprivation) than many of the red-wall seats where Reform and its antecedent parties have polled well. The area faces challenges due to years of austerity and the cost of living.
Many voters there may well share the notion that most politicians are out of touch. This explains why some perceive Kenyon’s rival Andy Burnham as a strong candidate to hold the seat for Labour, given his local roots and unashamedly working-class persona.
But when true ordinariness is held up as offering a more authentic sense of representation, Kenyon may well be seen as the true voice of the people. After all, Burnham – for all his popularity in Greater Manchester and his working-class background – has been a career politician for 25 years. These days, the voices of ordinary people are heard across social media and can even dominate the news agenda and shape policy. Kenyon – and Reform – will be hoping to ride the demand for authentic representation and cause a major upset on June 18.
