The biggest bully is inside Gordon Brown’s head

Gordon Brown, in a speech last April at St Paul's Cathedral in London, espoused the Christian doctrine to "do to others what you would have them do unto you". These words strike an ironic chord in the midst of accusations of a "bullying culture" within 10 Downing Street. It might be closer to the truth to think that Gordon Brown is doing unto others what he does to himself.

In an interview with Channel 4, in which he sought to deal with the accusations of bullying and intimidation in Andrew Rawnsley's book The End of the Party, Gordon Brown denied he had once assaulted an aide.

"I have never, never hit anybody in my life," he protested. "I don't do these sorts of things. I was brought up (by) my father (and) I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone. In the heat of the moment, you say things sometimes. You do get angry ­ mostly with yourself.

"But I'm strong-willed and I'm very determined... Every morning I get up with a determination to do my best for this country."

The clue to Brown's outbursts is evident in his saying, "You do get angry ­ mostly with yourself." He also emphasises his strong will and determination. These are undoubtedly positive attributes but they can also become destructive ones if they are pushed to an extreme.

It seems clear that Brown is someone who has high expectations of himself ­ - so high in fact that the result may be persecuting, both to himself and to others.

At an early age, it was clear that Brown was exceptionally bright in school and a high achiever. Brown is typical of many high achievers who push themselves relentlessly and often treat others in the same way, unaware of the harmful effect they may be having.

The bullying behaviour is a reflection of what is going on inside Brown's mind. When Brown fails to perform to the standards of his idealised view of himself, his ego is attacked and punished by a very severe super-ego. In his mind, Brown's failure to conform to his ideal effectively means that he will not be loved.

The roots of this conflict may be found in Brown's childhood in Kirkcaldy, Scotland. He had an especially strong tie with his parents, calling them his "inspiration". His father was a minister of the Church of Scotland and had a powerful influence on Brown, instilling within him a strong sense of fairness and social justice.

Brown accompanied his father on his rounds of parishioners and was exposed to the poverty and unemployment that resulted from the collapse of the textile and mining industries. These experiences led to Brown's interest in socialism and a firm political view that individuals are by nature primarily co-operative rather than self-centred.

Brown's ideal of serving the interests of the community over self-interests has informed much of his fiscal and social politics. However, it may well have become a tyrannical ideal within Brown's mind that has prevented him from being able to tolerate his own needs and weaknesses in the face of conflict. The shadow to Brown's idealism is a stern Calvinism that castigates selfishness and weakness.

When accused of hitting an aide, it is telling that Brown defended himself by referring to his father. Brown says, "I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone." From this, we can see that Brown's father represented an ideal for him that he has staunchly tried to follow. To be loved by his adored father means to be as close to this ideal as possible.

But it is an ideal that does not allow for anger or aggression. In short, it does not allow him to be human. And this is the problem.

The accusations against Brown concern his disregard for junior staff and people working for him in lowly positions, his indecisiveness, his difficulty in considering alternative views once he has made a decision, his difficulty in listening to criticism, his difficulty in commanding loyalty from his own Cabinet ministers and backbench MPs, and his difficulty in forming a strong vision of the country's future.

Each of these shortcomings is a result of Brown's persecutory inner world in which the demands he makes on himself have become crippling and abusive. Within such an internal straitjacket, it is hardly surprising that Brown is afraid of making decisions, afraid of hearing criticisms and lacks the imaginative capacity to form an inspiring vision of the future.

Christine Pratt, head of the National Bullying Helpline, who claimed on Sunday that her charity had received phone calls from staff inside Number Ten, was concerned that Downing Street was so quick to deny any suggestion of bullying.

She argued: "We would have hoped that Gordon Brown said he was looking into this, that due process was being followed and that he takes these issues seriously... We would want Gordon Brown to follow the statutory code, the ACAS code, that he himself introduced."

Rather than relieving public concern, the denial issued by Number Ten on behalf of Brown only suggests fear: ­ a fear of failing that cannot be admitted because it would mean, in Brown's mind, losing his father's love. The final irony is that in denying his behaviour, Brown is actually risking losing the following of his own constituency. ·