What are the chances a couple of grey-haired men could spearhead political change on both sides of the Atlantic?

It would be unwisely optimistic to exaggerate the prospects in either instance. Yet the very fact that the question can coherently be raised is in itself something of a novelty.

After all, who would have thought that a 73-year-old who describes himself as a democratic socialist could get much traction in his quest for the Democratic presidential nomination in the United States? Yet Bernie Sanders has been attracting bigger crowds than Hillary Clinton at public events, and the opinion poll gap between the two contenders has substantially narrowed.

In Britain, meanwhile, Jeremy Corbyn barely made it on to the Labour Party’s leadership ballot, but has since then steadily been winning the support of trade unions and constituency activists. He, too, is a socialist — in a party that has tended to disdain that term for at least a couple of decades.

It would be an understatement to describe Sanders as something of an anomaly in the American context. Although the former mayor of Burlington has represented the tiny state of Vermont as a congressman and senator for decades, he has been the only member of the US Congress to self-identify as a socialist. In recent decades that term has featured prominently, if fallaciously, in invective against the Obama administration, most notably in the context of its modest healthcare initiatives. Sanders suggests he would go much further. He frequently cites the Scandinavian model of social democracy, and accurately argues that all too many Americans are simply unaware of the European scenario wherein healthcare and education are considered basic rights, and are either entirely free or heavily subsidized.

Europe has been retreating by degrees from these norms, but by and large remains considerably more progressive than the US on almost every score. This is an aspect of American exceptionalism of which Sanders would like his fellow citizens to be more aware. And he appears to be making some headway.

More broadly, he militates against the notion that “small government” is necessarily a virtue, while simultaneously opposing excesses such as the extent of state surveillance. Corporate power is a particular bugbear, not least because of its electoral influence. Sanders’ refusal to accept contributions from Wall Street inevitably puts him at a disadvantage vis-à-vis Clinton, in a country where the size of one’s war chest is directly proportionate to chances of electoral success.

It would nonetheless be incredibly interesting to see Sanders, who claims to represent the 99 percent against the “two-tenths of 1 percent” who have benefited from the redistribution of wealth in the US go up against any contender the Republican Party throws up from among the roster of reprobates hankering for its presidential candidacy, be it Marco Rubio or Donald Trump.

Perhaps inevitably, some on the left who don’t disagree with anything Sanders says in public find him wanting in several other respects, notably when it comes to US foreign policy vis-à-vis Israel or Russia. On the other hand, Clinton offers precious little respite on those fronts. At this juncture she stands a reasonable chance of not just winning the Democratic contest for nomination but of becoming the first female president.

That’s inevitably a positive in some respects. It’s high time, after all. Let’s not forget, though, that Britain’s first female prime minister was a determined radical who began to roll back the welfare state — and was followed in due course by a Labour prime minister who effectively followed in her tracks and was ordained as an heir.

Tony Blair has lately warned the British Labour Party against swerving to the left in the wake of its decisive electoral defeat, and most of the candidates aspiring for the party’s leadership in the wake of Ed Miliband’s inevitable resignation tend to agree. The assumption that Labour floundered under Miliband because it veered too far from the center is wholly misguided, though. A coherent alternative to the neoliberal austerity offered by David Cameron’s Conservatives would probably have stood Labour in much better stead in this year’s election.

Instead, it vacillated and demurred. The conclusion that its platform should have adhered even more closely to the Tory plank effectively suggests that democracy is worthless, and that the contest essentially is between mildly varying personalities offering the same recipe. MasterChef, neoliberal style: Hack and fry, roast or bake.

Corbyn stands out for going against the grain. Like Sanders, he believes in the redistribution of wealth, but doesn’t think the already well endowed should be the primary beneficiaries. More broadly, the fact that he chairs the Stop the War Coalition and is a vice-president of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament serves as a reminder that British socialism differs substantially from the American variant.

It has been suggested that the Conservative Party would like nothing better than to have Corbyn at Labour’s helm, as that would alienate enough of the electorate to entrench a Tory majority for years to come.

It would be well worth finding out whether that is indeed the case. The real fear of a socialist alternative derives from the danger that it might actually grab the popular imagination. It hasn’t happened yet, but Sanders and Corbyn are indications that it should not be ruled out.

At the same time, this week’s goings-on in Brussels are a sore reminder that even when a particular electorate opts for socialist alternatives — as Greek voters did in January, and again earlier this month — the capitalist imperative will triumph.

The Germans have left little doubt that they are punishing the Greeks, both for electing Syriza in the first place, and for overwhelmingly rejecting the neoliberal troika’s terms for staying in the European Union.

Alexis Tsipras now faces the awful task of seeking approval for a program he almost certainly does not believe in, barely a week after an overwhelming majority of Greeks rejected a considerably milder form of the conditions foisted in Greece, which effectively deny its parliament from passing laws that Berlin does not agree with. This could mean the end of Syriza, which was surely part of the intention. It would no doubt be harder to reject policies advanced by better-entrenched parties such as Britain’s Labour. It’s intriguing, though, that Tory organs such as The Telegraph in Britain have been extraordinarily empathetic toward Syriza’s stance — as, for that matter, has been Sanders.

He and Corbyn are reminders that there is scope for a different western world. It’s so far very tentative, though.