The world has fallen in love with Justin Trudeau — the panda-cuddling, wheelchair-carrying, refugee-welcoming Prime Minister of Canada. Glossies from Vogue to Vanity Fair constantly fawn over his good looks and youthful exuberance. And large swaths of the internet can’t get enough of the liberal leader’s charm, intellect and constant declarations that he’s a feminist. I included myself in this category. Then I moved to Canada. And it became pretty obvious that the jury’s still out on Trudeau there, even with the generalised relief that former prime minister Stephen Harper’s steely conservatism is no more. While Trudeau is depicted abroad as a heartthrob superhero, people here are less excited and more focused on whether he’s all style over substance.

Older Canadians are assuming a “wait and see” ambivalence toward Trudeau, who is far less qualified for the role than his storied prime minister father, Pierre. And younger Canadians are wary because Justin Trudeau also evokes the “hope and change” excitement of 2008-era United States President Barack Obama, whose two terms did little to satisfy the high expectations that surrounded his election. If you’ve heard the phrase ‘Trudeaumania’ before, it was likely in reference to the late Pierre Trudeau, who served as prime minister in the 1960s to 1980s. His accomplishments ranged from a charter prohibiting discrimination and encouraging multiculturalism, to extensive health care reforms. The elder Trudeau’s ambitious reign, abundant in both charisma and intellect, helps explain why an older generation of Canadians may be willing to give his rookie son a chance.

A retired lawyer on the West Coast told me that while Canadians are not wholly enthused by the new prime minister, the nostalgia from his “iconic” connections will allow him a longer honeymoon period. Meanwhile, the president of my synagogue in Vancouver also attributed Justin Trudeau’s electoral success to his last name — she expressed blatant disapproval for his “lightweight” foreign policy and “celebrity” appeal. She did confirm however, with characteristic Canadian politeness, that “he’s a nice kid, don’t get me wrong”.

Canadian millennials, on the other hand, are the demographic supposedly most taken in by Trudeau’s idealism — their vote helped propel him into office, as they mobilised in excitement at the alternative Trudeau posed to the arch-conservative Harper. But these younger voters are also withholding full endorsement, concerned that the government’s heavy spending will mean an insurmountable deficit, and that not enough is being done to make housing affordable.

This great disconnect between what Canadians think of Trudeau and how he comes across abroad is partly due to what goes viral online. Social media opts for photogenic hair over policy specifics, so the international press fawns over his yoga prowess instead of examining his first budget. It follows that his photos of boxing in Brooklyn have been given more attention than his environmental policy predicaments.

National publications in Canada (notably the National Post) routinely take a tougher stance on Trudeau. They’ve taken him to task for perceived weaknesses on Liberal plans to legalise marijuana, settle Syrian refugees and massively increasing public spending. But then again, domestic outlets are more familiar with the country’s people, priorities and policies.

This is not to say Canadians are completely immune to Trudeau’s charms. Despite their reservations, various young professionals in Toronto described him to me recently as a man with “pure class” who has “great hair” and “brings the fun”. You could critique these remarks for lacking substance, but then again the same insult could be levelled at the man himself.

— Guardian News & Media Ltd

Rebecca Shapiro is a freelance journalist, adventure aficionado and travel blogger.