With economic turbulence expected, the strategy would be to build on the strengths that served Brown so well when he was chancellor of the Exchequer: seriousness, competence, a return to “prudence,” the watchword of those days when he ruled over the big Whitehall bureaucracies as the “Iron Chancellor.” It would also be back to basics in the sense that Brown would return to the task of improving public services like health and education. But with the Conservative leader David Cameron—the Tories’ answer to 1997-vintage Blair—now well ahead in the polls, Brown has work to do. “It’s a big ask,” says Andrew Rawnsley, the Observer columnist and Labour Party historian, “but I wouldn’t write him off.”

It’s odd that after a quarter century in Parliament, 10 years as chancellor and seven months as prime minister, Brown, 56, should still be seeking to define himself. Intellectually formidable and politically accomplished, Brown remains largely unknowable, not just to British voters but even to many people who work down the hall from him. Even Brown’s admirers compare his political style to a “steamroller.” Blair once praised the “heavyweight” Brown for wielding his political skills like a “big clunking fist.” As is often said of people who come across as cold or uncomfortable in public, Brown’s friends say he is charming and at ease in private. But his public reputation stands like a wall between the “real” Brown and the public to whom he so desperately wants to appeal. This difficulty in bonding has led to serial attempts by Brown and his handlers to refashion his image. The first, in early 2006, aimed at humanizing a man known mostly as the country’s über-accountant. But gimmicks like a photo spread of Gordon en famille by the fireplace attracted more mockery than warmth. It seemed contrived, and it was. As the Tory M.P. David Ruffley said at the time, “You can’t put in the x factor that God left out.”

So when he took over from Blair in June 2007, Brown attempted remake No. 2, promoting himself as the anti-Blair by concentrating on substance over spin. It seemed destined to succeed: the country, increasingly tired of wars abroad and not enough public-services progress at home, was palpably eager to see Blair go. And at first, the country embraced Brown. But ultimately the electorate recognized that this refashioning was a Blair-like exercise in spin—especially when Brown, seduced by his rising poll numbers, toyed seriously with calling a snap election, nixed the idea when in-depth polling showed he would suffer and then claimed his decision had nothing to do with the polls. His political immune system became particularly vulnerable to bad news. A series of unfortunate events toward the end of 2007—including the collapse of a bank and a smattering of campaign-finance scandals—ruined his numbers. Recent surveys have Labour trailing the Conservatives by 10 points or so.

Now Brown is attempting to refashion his image again—the third makeover since he began positioning himself for the prime minister’s job two years ago. This one is drenched in substance—“important legislation making long-term changes in energy, climate change, health, pensions, planning, housing, education and transport,” as he said in his year-end message. But he risks reverting to an old Blairite formula that reeks of spin. In the public mind, Blair had a habit of summoning a public-services “year of delivery” when inconveniences like Iraq intervened. Brown seems to be setting his own benchmark—a year of performance, as it were—to address, as he said, “the great unfinished business of social reform in our country.”

Along with substance, the newest incarnation of Gordon Brown emphasizes “change.” In his New Year’s message, he pledged to pursue “not the old politics, but new policies equal to the demands of a new time.” How he will balance the prudence of the old Brown with the electorate’s demands is an open question. For guidance, he and his advisors are paying close attention to the battle between experience and change in the U.S. presidential campaign. While his opponent, the fresh-faced Cameron, 41, has sought to corner the market on change, and was quick—perhaps too quick—to pronounce Barack Obama’s campaign as “highly attractive,” the Brown team was pleased with the results of the Democratic primary in New Hampshire. There, the putative change candidate, the 46-year-old Obama, lost to Hillary Clinton, 60. Exit polls showed voters who wanted experience in the next president outnumbered those who wanted change and favored Clinton over Obama by 66 points. Several sources close to Brown who would not be quoted by name discussing political strategy say he is likely to turn down the volume on change if Clinton continues to fare well.

Voters may come to see such calibration as still more political spin. But Brown’s advisers hope the coming economic fragility (GDP growth is slowing, the housing market is weakening) will play to his strengths. Cameron, predictably, told the House of Commons recently it will all end in tears for Brown: “He can talk about long-termism all he likes, but everybody knows it’s just a smokescreen for the short-term mess that he’s made.”

With the next general election not expected until 2009 or 2010, both parties are in it for the long haul. Brown “has time on his hands, but it won’t be easy,” says Blair biographer Peter Snowdon. Many Labour foot soldiers agree, and worry that Cameron, as he moves his still-unreconstructed party to the center, will continue to lay claim to erstwhile Labour issues like combating climate change and restoring the National Health Service to its former glory. “Labour has a good brand but bad marketing,” says a Labour M.P. who did not want to be quoted by name when criticizing his leader. “The Conservatives have no brand but good marketing.” Brown has two years or less to get it right.