This was a critical moment for Boris Johnson. He went into Monday’s Downing Street press conference – set to be a daily occurrence from now on – with a question mark hovering over his ability to lead the country through a crisis.

At his last appearance at the podium, on Thursday, he had seemed anxious, if not overwhelmed, by the scale of the problem engulfing the country and, therefore, his premiership.

Since then, there had been confusion and worse – a weekend of tangled messaging over “herd immunity” and rising bafflement as to why Britain seemed to be out of step with the rest of the world in enforcing social distancing, along with anger that the UK is testing for coronavirus so much less thoroughly than other countries.

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The prime minister did not exactly sweep away those concerns as he addressed the press – there were still gaps and contradictions in his message – but he probably did just enough to persuade the doubters that he and the government have a plan, and thereby buy himself more time and patience from a worried public.

Those who had hoped for a Napoleonic edict, unambiguously shutting down pubs, cafes and theatres, were disappointed because Johnson instead announced something foreign commentators instantly branded typically British: a slightly passive-aggressive set of advisory messages, starting with the recommendation that people ought to “avoid” pubs and bars, rather than simply ordering them to shut.

In the same spirit, there was to be no legally enforced curfew on the elderly or the sick, but a period of “shielding” of the most vulnerable that would last 12 weeks. The advice was for people to work from home “where they possibly can” and keep “unnecessary” travel to a minimum, but both left some wiggle room.

Mass gatherings would not be banned, exactly, but the emergency services would no longer support them. Strictly speaking, such events could still go ahead but, Johnson explained: “We are moving emphatically away from them.”

It was the language of “should” rather than “must”. Asked why the PM hadn’t used the full might of his powers, Johnson replied: “We’re a mature, grown-up liberal democracy.”

Others speculated that he was thinking about an insurance industry that would be liable for big bills if businesses could say they were shut by government diktat.

In normal times, Johnson might have come under fire from those who believe the government needs to get a firmer grip, opting for the compulsory over the voluntary and relying rather less on citizens’ sense of civic responsibility.

But Johnson had his two wingmen at his side, the chief medical officer and the chief scientific adviser and they once again served as his protective shield.

When tough questions came – if close social contact in large groups is now so perilous, why on Earth are schools still open? Why aren’t we testing more? – Johnson could, as he put it, defer to the experts, asking the two men flanking him to answer.

Of course, it’s such a reversal of the populist, anti-expert rhetoric of the 2016 referendum that propelled Johnson to Downing Street, but few will mind that too much. Given the alternative – a prime minister who doesn’t defer to the scientists – most Britons are likely to swallow the contradiction with relief.

For Johnson, this new, enforced persona is utterly at odds with the “Boris” he meticulously constructed over three decades. He used to rely on gags and bluster; now he depends on Sir Patrick Vallance and Prof Chris Whitty.

His brand was meant to be cheery optimism; now he has to stand before the public and demand a degree of personal sacrifice unseen since 1945, warning of a period of misery that could last many months.

Occasionally the “Boris” of old tried to break through. “We need to flatten the curve, squash the sombrero,” he said, with the faintest hint of a smile. He tried to be upbeat in promising the country was making “huge strides” in getting enough ventilators, and allowed himself to hold out the prospect of eventual “remedies – even a vaccine”.

But there are few smiles to be had now. These are gravely serious times, with the country led by a man it’s not yet sure is serious enough for the task.