AFTER the party, reality. As the final results came in on the morning of October 30th, it appeared as though the Pirate Party would win about 15% of the vote in Iceland’s parliamentary election, making it the third-biggest party in the legislature. This was a big improvement on the Pirates’ result in the previous election, in 2013, where the party, which mainly campaigns on things like transparency and internet governance, had won about 5% of the vote.

Still, it was not as good as the Pirates had hoped. In April they were polling at about 40%. The then prime minister, Sigmundur David Gunnlaugsson, had been caught up in the leak of the Panama Papers, which showed that he had quietly sold a stake in an offshore firm to his wife—a revelation that forced him to resign. Even on the day of the vote, some analysts were predicting that the Pirates would be the biggest party in parliament. The mood at the Pirates’ election-night afterparty was restrained: nerdy types in purple T-shirts and eye-patches furrowed their brows as the results came in. The Pirates could still form a government, though they would probably be second partners to the Left-Green Movement, which won 16% of the vote. The big winner was the conservative Independence Party, which won about 30% of the vote and is most likely to lead a government.

Why did the Pirates underperform? Even right before the election, many Icelanders were unsure what they stood for. Those who had said they would vote Pirate in the aftermath of Panama said that they had tired of the party’s refusal to commit to policy positions, from the big (whether Iceland should reopen negotiations for accession to the European Union) to the small (whether supermarkets should be allowed to sell alcohol). On the day of the election, many young people—the Pirates’ core constituency—seemed apathetic. On the morning of the vote Reykjavik was subdued; the square outside the parliament building, the setting of enormous protests in April, was deserted. The most activity, in fact, was taking place on Twitter, where foreign supporters of the Pirates were egging on the party.

But the bigger reason is that the Pirates struggled to show that they would be safe economic managers. The Icelandic economy has bounced back from its collapse a few years ago, but it is still vulnerable. Foreign investors still own vast quantities of krona-denominated assets that they are currently prevented from converting to foreign currency. The plan is gradually to loosen these controls, but if this is handled badly the krona could collapse. The previous government has walked this tightrope with skill, and they are now taking credit. The Pirates may have boarded the ship of state, but they are a long way from taking the helm.