Runciman puts it nicely: "If, say, one were a democratic politician sincerely believing that another regime posed a threat to national security because of its weapons programme, and also recognising that maintaining the sincerity of one's convictions was crucial to persuading the public of this threat, then one might seek to insulate that sincerity from reasonable doubts, by deliberately avoiding any evidence that might raise such doubts. In this way, the politician remains sincere, and is able to act in ‘good faith'. But the politician is still a hypocrite. The old adage says: ‘If you can fake sincerity, you've got it made.'"

In a sense, the mask is and always has been a misleading metaphor. The political leader is not a god set apart from his people. Most of the time, as Mandeville pointed out, even the most skilful politician must be a slave to the fashions of the times. What he stands behind is not so much a mask as a solar panel, which picks up the public heat, absorbs it and transforms it into energy. At its best, there is a benign synergy, but that can happen only if the facts are shared and if the debate is conducted honestly. The democracy that really matters is the democracy of information.

In the end, what counts is not so much whether we believe that our leader is sincere, but whether we believe that he/she is giving us the facts straight. We may or may not wish to be roused by Gordon Brown at 7am for a personal heart-to-heart over the phone. What we certainly do wish to know is exactly who wins and who loses from his tax changes. To adapt Bertolt Brecht, facts first, schmooze later.