Scott Morrison started one of his many news conferences at the weekend by complaining about the flash lights from the cameras. Can you stop that, it’s a distraction, he snapped.

It’s unusual because the flash of the snappers’ rapid-fire cameras is just what happens at these media events. Politicians know that and live with it.

Morrison’s obvious displeasure and apparent short-temper is a measure of his inability to stay on top of things in these very uncertain and constantly changing times.

Given that Morrison’s national Cabinet was coming unstuck throughout Sunday, his crankiness was understandable. Premiers in New South Wales and Victoria were responding to the fact their own populations were voting with their feet in two ways, one understandable and the other unacceptable.

By the end of last week about a third of state school students in those two biggest states were staying home – other states weren’t far behind – and on the weekend an alarming number of people were recklessly ignoring demands to not gather in large numbers, whether it was at beaches or in places of entertainment.

The premiers had to get some clarity into the guidance covering students going to schools and they had to stop the dangerous practice of packing into pubs, clubs and on beaches.

With a seeming lack of clarity from Morrison and a feeling among premiers that the Commonwealth needed a shove, Gladys Berejiklian and Daniel Andrews got out and showed leadership and certainty.

Suggestions Morrison was the one in charge – made from behind hands in the Prime Minister’s Office – are just arse-covering nonsense.

Morrison is performing a high-wire act – in political, policy and public relations terms – at a time that really does own the word unprecedented. Trying to suppress the health crisis – flatten the curve as the jargon has it – while managing the economic wrecking ball that’s swinging in its wake is a career-defining test squared and squared again.

Morrison came into this COVID-19 crisis battered and bruised because of his fumbles and failures during the national late December and January bushfire calamity. Many thought he wouldn’t recover and his opinion ratings experienced a crash that we should have seen as an omen for the equity market collapse over the last six weeks.

At first it looked like Morison’s front-footed response to the crisis could help him recover in a political sense – and he still might, although at the weekend his performance swung from credible to awful almost mimicking the Chicago Board of Options Exchange charts (or VIX volatility index).

Australian prime ministers since 2010 have fallen foul of the Disappointment Curse and so far none has survived this political sickness that seems to be almost unique to our troubled democracy.

Kevin Rudd promised everything before turning his back on climate change and was rebuffed by a disappointed country and party. His successor Julia Gillard disappointed because of a key broken promise not to introduce a carbon tax.

Tony Abbott returned the Coalition to power with the promise the adults were back in charge and then slumped into a series of disappointments from rolling broken promises to jarring decisions such as giving Prince Philip a knighthood.

Malcolm Turnbull kept the curse alive by first exciting the voters with rhetorical flair and some policy creativity but then disappearing into a slump of disappointment as he became risk-averse in politics and policy.

Now Morrison has walked into the disappointment trap. It has not claimed him yet – he remains above water politically – but he is testing himself and being tested at the most challenging of times.

Being asked to rebuild the plane while you’re flying it is as hard as it gets. No wonder Morrison is jumping at flashing lights.