Andy Burnham: On the ball

Culture secretaries used not to be like this. So just how far could the Everton fan's capacity for original thinking take him?

(PA)

Deep in the heart of Westminster, amid the head-scratching in the Treasury, the lost files of the Home Office, and the belongings of felled transport ministers, there is a department where the daily political pressures are a little different.

The chores of the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport don't seem as strenuous as one might expect for a cabinet post, with the constant day trips to the country's finest cultural hot spots and enforced visits to theatre matinees. And when the post-performance champagne flutes are drained, there's always time to catch an evening kick-off between two footballing heavyweights.

So it was hardly a surprise that the current incumbent, the avid Everton FC fan Andy Burnham, admitted on receiving the post last January that he was heading towards his "dream job". Allies confirm that he is in seventh heaven. "Andy's in clover with the job he's doing at the moment," says David Blunkett. "But that's no bad thing. It will give him confidence for the future."

And in between the many important visits that entail being at least mildly entertained day after day, Burnham has been popping up to float a few fun policy ideas. First, it was a plan to make libraries less quiet. This week, it was churches – those that are not filled should be turned into gyms, restaurants or multi-faith centres, he said.

It may seem hard to believe, but at the tender age of 38, Burnham has earned the right to a stint of less pressured policy musing. He has already had some pretty tough jobs during his brief Westminster career.

First, he had to convince his own party that reforming the NHS, that sacred cow of Labour politics, was in its interests. He was then rewarded with the task of assisting David Blunkett with his reform agenda, cracking down on law and order. After the 2005 election, Tony Blair gave him the unenviable task of making the case for ID cards, while Gordon Brown decided to move him to the Treasury just in time to be clobbered with the collapse of Northern Rock.

Having been in so many positions of potential conflict and risen so quickly through New Labour's ranks, one might assume that he has developed an army of enemies. But quite the opposite is true. In fact, it is hard to find anyone who will say a word against him.

"When some people do well early on there can be resentment, but that has not been the case with Andy," says a Labour insider. "He is respected, because he gets things done."

Very quickly, senior figures in the Labour Party spotted that Burnham had the qualities to take on tough jobs. While a true believer in New Labour policies, his boyish charm and amiable approach marked him out as a consensus builder.

Some have tried to typecast him as another identikit New Labour politician, complete with Paul Smith suit and winning smile, and a belief in the importance of the free market and a Middle England agenda. He has certainly demonstrated a willingness to act tough on law and order. For his hard line on law and order while a junior minister at the Home Office, he earned the nickname "Flog 'em and Burnham".

His views on marriage have also led to some criticism that he is on the wrong side of the chamber over the issue. "I think marriage is better for kids ... I'm a bit old-fashioned on these matters," he has said.

And he was a key member of the Demon Eyes football team, a squad reflecting the up-and-coming powerhouses of New Labour. On the pitches of Highbury, he strutted his stuff with speechwriters, advisers and future cabinet colleagues such as Ed Balls, David Miliband and James Purnell.

But while he may seem like a typical New Labour man, it would be a mistake to see this proud Merseysider as a typical Blairite. Though he may have been part of New Labour's well-connected football team, he was not like his team-mates in many ways.

Burnham had a genuinely working-class upbringing in Liverpool, a city where football matters like almost nowhere else. His brother is still a regular at Everton's Goodison Park, while Burnham himself admits to invading the pitch as a 14-year-old after Everton's FA Cup semi-final win against Southampton in 1984.

"He grew up in a very warm family and is very much rooted in that community," says a friend. "There's a certain mould of New Labour politicians and I certainly don't think he fits that."

And anyone who knows the Merseyside attitude will recognise what at first glance looks like a rag-bag of political beliefs. They are the beliefs of someone from a background that puts its faith in strong family ties, a commitment to community and a belief in helping the poorest. "Your roots and your family are everything," he has said.

Those roots, of which he is fiercely proud, also make him an unusual fit for the Department for Culture, Media and Sport. Ever since its creation in 1992, it has been dominated by the London intelligentsia, from the likes of David Mellor and Virginia Bottomley, to Chris Smith and Tessa Jowell. When Burnham took over, he was determined to broaden the office to embrace the cultural life of the neglected regions.

In other ways, his background has drawn him to the office. There is no getting away from a burning passion for sport. In truth, only one sport – football. "I'm totally tribal about my politics and my football," he told one newspaper last year. Unlike Lord Mandelson's claim that the first thing he would save from his burning house would be his Hartlepool United scarf, Burnham's pronouncement has the stamp of authenticity.

But less well known is that he is a huge music buff, with a passion for 1980s Manchester music scene.

His reliability may have landed in his dream job for the time being, but not all has gone smoothly. Some saw Gordon Brown's decision to place Burnham in the Treasury as its Chief Secretary as a baffling move for a man with an MA in English literature. What he needed was a period of economic quiescence, which would allow him to bed in and learn the ropes. It wasn't what he got.

Unfortunately for him, he happened to be in the job when ill financial winds hit an overexcited mortgage lender in the North-east. When Northern Rock failed, the Treasury team was under the spotlight, and not everyone liked what they saw.

One commentator chided Burnham as being "completely out of his depth". Despite it all, his close confidants say he is adamant that he enjoyed his time at the Treasury. "It was a tough period for the whole Government," says one, "but looking back he is confident now that the action the Treasury took over Northern Rock was the right one."

As during his time at the Home Office, he has come through the experience stronger. "We stood together in some very tough times," remembers David Blunkett. "Taking on tough jobs gives you wonderful experience and helps you grow into a job. That is happening to Andy."

He hasn't been immune from the odd political clanger, either. He flirted with controversy as soon as he was installed in his current job. He was criticised for discussing the possibility of leading the Labour Party in a newspaper interview. He also upset Shami Chakrabarti, the ubiquitous leader of the civil rights group Liberty, when he suggested that she had held "late-night, hand-wringing, heart-melting" phone calls with Conservative MP David Davis.

He has now learned to pick his fights. While his boss last week waded into the media story of the year about Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross, Burnham stayed stoically silent on the matter. Instead, he piped up with an ambitious policy idea, to make use of empty churches as gyms and restaurants.

So what next for the boyish Evertonian? Could he ever lead the party? On the pitch, with the likes of Purnell, Miliband, Balls et al, he was not afraid to lead from the front, as a no-nonsense, old-fashioned English centre-forward, all grit and strength.

And one of his former bosses is clear on where he believes the Culture Secretary will end up. "I would put my money on Andy Burnham being Prime Minister in 15 years' time," said David Blunkett, Burnham's boss at the Home Office in 2003.

"He is thoughtful, has energy and is a great communicator. Above all, he connects with working people while being able to communicate progressive ideas. You don't need much more than that."

As for the immediate future, one could expect a similar move to that of his predecessor, James Purnell, who now heads the huge operation that is the Work and Pensions department.

But perhaps not the Foreign Office. It's a long way from Ghana to Goodison Park.

A life in brief

Born: Andrew Murray Burnham 1970, Liverpool. Father a telephone engineer, mother a receptionist.

Family: married Marie-France van Heel in 2000. One son.

Education: St Aelred's Roman Catholic High School, and Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge. MA in English.

Career: Elected as an MP 2001. Appointed Parliamentary Undersecretary of State with responsibility for identity cards legislation in 2005; Minister of State at the Department of Health, 2006; Chief Secretary to the Treasury, 2007; Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport, January 2008.

He says: "Growing up in the 1980s wasn't a lot of fun if you cared about politics."

They say: "He is late for everything. If he ever became Chancellor he'd be known as the Late Chancellor." – ex-cabinet minister