TWO months ago France’s young leader could do no wrong. Emmanuel Macron defied all the rules to win the presidency at the age of 39. He secured a parliamentary majority for a party that did not exist 15 months before, and wowed the French with his muscular treatment of unsavoury foreign leaders. But summer has soured the mood. When ministers return to work next week after an uncommonly short break, they will find a president who has slid faster in the polls than any other under the Fifth Republic.

After his first 100 days in office Mr Macron’s approval rating dropped to 36%, according to Ifop, a pollster (see chart). At a comparable point, François Hollande, his hapless Socialist predecessor, was ten points higher. Given that unemployment has begun to fall, the euro-zone economy is picking up and Mr Macron has yet to pass controversial legislation, this rapid fall from grace is perplexing. The best explanation rests on the nature of his victory, and three different sorts of discontent.

Under France’s two-round system, Mr Macron was elected in a run-off with a resounding 66%. But some of this was less a vote for him than against his opponent, the far-right populist, Marine Le Pen. His solid base is his first-round score of 24%—lower than that of his two immediate predecessors, though higher than Jacques Chirac’s in 1995 and 2002. These core voters are still firm macronistes: 76% approve. Mr Macron’s ratings have tumbled among those who never picked him as their first choice, particularly on the far left and far right. The first source of their discontent concerns questionable political tactics. Mr Macron invited Donald Trump to attend the Bastille Day parade in Paris. This initially looked like a coup, putting France shoulder-to-shoulder with America. But voters struggle to see what the country has secured in return. The president then gave his former military chief, who had criticised defence cuts, a public dressing-down. This was intended as a show of authority, but public opinion sided with the general, who resigned. Another error was Mr Macron’s effort to codify an official role for the French first lady. Polls, and an online petition, revealed this to be unpopular, and he made do with a “charter” instead. It might have helped if Mr Macron had explained himself. He doubtless judged that there are greater dangers in isolating America, and that the two countries may need each other—over Syria, for instance. But he has decided to pursue a “Jupiterian” presidency: he speaks little in public, entrusting the daily job of spin to his government. Where Mr Hollande gossiped to reporters, Mr Macron mostly refuses to talk to the press. This leaves images to speak for themselves. Some have been easy targets for ridicule, such as the president playing Tom Cruise in a fighter-pilot suit, or laughing at the Elysée Palace with Rihanna. This sort of criticism is legitimate in politics, but a second type seems less serious. During a special parliamentary session, which ran into August—a time when much of Paris had left for the beach—some first-time deputies from Mr Macron’s La République en Marche (LRM) proved accident-prone. Videos mocking blunders over legislative procedure swirled on social media. The opposition deplored their “incompetence” and “amateurism”. Yet “every beginner has the right to make mistakes”, says Gilles Le Gendre, vice-president of the LRM parliamentary group, pointing out that the newcomers attend far more assiduously. Spending on alcohol at the parliamentary bar is said to have plummeted.

The third form of dissatisfaction is different: Mr Macron is proving unpopular for doing the right thing. Some of his well-flagged plans involve uncomfortable changes or spending cuts. Unsurprisingly, those affected are not happy. Take his decision to finance a general reduction of payroll charges by increasing a broader charge, which touches pensions; 64% of those over 65 disapprove. His freeze on public-sector pay is, predictably, opposed by 80% of public-sector workers.

A former investment banker, Mr Macron has chosen budget cuts rather than higher taxes as the means of sticking to the European Union’s deficit rules in 2017. His underlying logic is to tax work and business less, in order to spur growth and job creation. But this is politically difficult, since some tax cuts—including to the “wealth” tax—are readily caricatured. Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the fiery far-left leader, calls the Macron government an “arrogant caste” with a “preference for the rich”.

The question is whether falling popularity will affect Mr Macron’s capacity to govern. His ratings are still well above the disastrous single digits that hampered Mr Hollande. The president seems undeterred, according to those who have seen him this summer. Yet complacency would be a mistake. The point of what he is trying to do seems misunderstood. Public opinion has not given him credit, for example, for an anti-corruption law passed in August to clean up political life. A tough month lies ahead, after he unveils his labour reforms, with strikes planned on September 12th. The French voted for Mr Macron because they wanted change. They may need an eloquent reminder of what that change is all about.