Sherelle Jacobs:

From the hyper-paranoia of the favourites to the self-immolation of Labour, the poll is going one way

As Labour wallows in the weeping fluids of its political terminality, something intriguing is happening to the Tories. No 10 is struck down with victorphobia. The “L” word (“landslide”) is banned from meetings. Behind the scenes among senior MPS, the danger of “2017 all over again” is the near-hysterical mantra. Candidates await a second outbreak of Corbynmania, like the second coming of Christ. Ministers jitter that workingclass voters may stand them up, and the middle-class slap them in the face. They both crave narrower polls to keep voters on their toes, and have queasy outbreaks at the thought of shock defeat.

In other words, the Tories are heading for a thumping majority. Some may snort with disbelief – especially given the muscle-cramped caution of their political manoeuvring. But there is the same scent in the air that preceded Labour’s victory in 1997 – a plasticky newness that is slightly nauseating. As was the case 22 years ago with subtle squabbly, inexperienced New Labour, the favourites carry more than a whiff of fakeness: we have, after all, suffered years of Tory incompetence. Their manifesto, far from seizing the public’s imagination, was cynically engineered to not attract attention.

But context is everything: as the worst parliament in history becomes but a receding wail and the shrill torture of the May era becomes a ghoulish half-memory, a Boris Johnson majority is starting to have the irresistible feel of a fresh beginning.

The same nervous tension that pulsated through New Labour can be felt thudding through Tory HQ today. Once upon a time, Alastair Campbell harassed journalists not to publish polls that suggested a Labour landslide, lest voters got complacent. Four days before his victory, Tony Blair panicked about whether to do a deal with Paddy Ashdown to stop the Lib Dems peeling away votes.

The Tories are equally terrified of feeling confident. While wonks sweat over the popularity of Corbyn’s pitch to save the NHS from Mr Southern Fried Chlorinated Chicken, Tories neurotically second-guess whether Labour’s latest tactic of forcing their leader into virtual early retirement following Tuesday’s calamitous Andrew Neil showdown could prove an accidental stroke of genius.

Still, the Tories can’t hide their confused fascination with the lack of opposition. They have the flat feeling of rugby players who have psyched themselves up for the most brutal game of their lives, only for the opposition not to show. In this sense, the parallels with New Labour are glaring. Just as the Conservatives were mired by sleaze then, Labour is soiled by anti-semitism today. Just as the ’97 Tories couldn’t decide whether to go after Tony Blair for being a diet Marxist or a diet Tory, the Corbynistas have no line of attack. With wages rising again, and the job market defying gravity, the public has no desire to bite on Jeremy Corbyn’s anti-austerity carrot. Aware that class hatred no longer resonates in betrayed blue-collar towns, Labour has been reduced to calling a vegetable a mineral – accusing soggy, herbivorous neo-cameroonians of being ironhearted Thatcherites.

Then there is the quiet cultural revolution gripping the nation, and undetected by the militantly middlegroundish BBC: for years it has been teeth grindingly unfashionable to be pro-tory. Suddenly it is teethgrindingly unfashionable to be pro-labour. As Corbyn flops, his loyalists look unhinged; just take the Twitter self-immolation of the ghastly Corbynista of the week, Holly Rigby.

On the eve of Blair, the mobileclacking-yuppy-done-good Tory brand seemed to melt away into a curmudgeonly caricature. Today, Labour warriors can feel their trendy tribe withering into society’s new half-pitied, half-despised reactionaries.

All good news for the Conservatives. Still, they need to step up – in politics, complacency and timidity can produce the same results. They are deliberately going under the radar in the North, where the Brexit Party is ripping chunks out of Labour with the almost absurd result that the Conservatives are polling with a 13-point lead in places like Great Grimsby; the Tories calculate they can take such seats “organically” without opponents noticing. But if the red wall is falling, the lack of blue bullets is starting to rub locals the wrong way. The rival parties quip that “Where are the Tories?” is becoming a doorstep joke.

Boris Johnson should also employ a Tebbit/prescott-style “attack dog” to savage Labour, while he preaches pristine optimism. Although the feeling internally is that such an approach isn’t his style, is unnecessary, and might even backfire, the Tories may have misread the mood. Far from pitying the underdog, the fed-up British public are in the frame of mind to see weakness punished.

There is, however, one person who understands what is happening better than most: Tony Blair. This week he pleaded with Remainers to vote tactically to prevent a Tory majority. Perhaps he can feel a landslide coming in his bones. Out-of-touch he may be, but apparently his political instincts are not yet out-of-date. follow Sherelle Jacobs on Twitter @Sherelle_e_j; read more at telegraph.co.uk/opinion