Is Rachel Reeves looking backwards or forwards?

Her growth ideas are a blast from the past

I have never really warmed to Rachel Reeves, Britain’s Chancellor of the Exchequer. She hid behind a wooden exterior without revealing anything beyond carefully-crafted PR messages. Still, she was eminently qualified for the job (more so than most of her predecessors) and she has helped transform Labour’s credibility, when her predecessor in the shadow role, Annaliese Dodds, was floundering. I also want to keep my inner misogynist in check: I bristle at a certain type of smartly-dressed, carefully presented, armour-plated, middle-class Labour female politician that has been prominent since New Labour days in the 1990s. I have been giving her the benefit of the doubt.

I forgave Ms Reeves when she announced the withdrawal of the pensioners’ winter fuel payment (or the means-testing of it, to be precise) leading to a blizzard of vituperation. I still think that it is a good policy, even though it is now clear that its political presentation was disastrous. And when she quickly settled many public sector pay disputes I thought this showed evidence of some welcome risk-taking in trying to fix longer-term problems against short-term financial pressures. Her first budget, though, was underwhelming. The only thing that was remotely bold about it was increasing the cost of lower paid employees through adjustments to employers’ National Insurance contributions, and raising the minimum wage. This seems to be a move against employers trying to solve problems with cheap labour. And the budget was sold with a patently dishonest narrative, that the government had discovered a black hole in the country’s finances. The black hole is real enough: but Labour had known its basic contours long before the election: these had been set out by pretty much every intelligent commentator, including, for example, the Institute for Fiscal Studies. Labour simply chose not to call it out. 

My reaction to the budget seems to be widely shared – it helped sustain a negative zeitgeist around the economy, which is discouraging investment. Lacklustre GDP statistics (which in reality are pretty meaningless as a performance indicator) supported the negative mood. Ms Reeves has then decided that she needed to lift the mood a bit, with a string of public appearances pushing the idea that the government will not compromise in its search for growth. The good news is that this extra exposure at last seems to be breaking down her woodenness and she has been more inclined to answer questions rather than just spout pre-prepared sound-bites. The bad news is that what she is communicating is pretty disappointing. 

Clearly Ms Reeves is anxious to get across the message that the government is really, really keen to encourage investment by reducing red tape. This is a popular theme right now, with the Trump administration trumpeting the message in America, and The Economist has a long article on the subject this week. I have a lot of sympathy. Most regulation is badly designed and implementation is usually even worse. Bureaucrats (in both private and public sector) lay on cautious over-interpretation, and then spend their time chasing innocent minor infractions and slowing down worthwhile projects, rather than tackling the harms that the regulations were designed to prevent. Sometimes this is a necessary evil, but surely we should aspire to do much better. Alas, all this is popular thing for government ministers to say, but there is a huge creditability gap, as they rarely deliver anything worthwhile. And that is especially true of Labour politicians. Their core supporters adore regulations (they are often the ones tasked with managing them) and any worthwhile deregulation hits stiff political resistance. Ms Reeves clearly knows this and realises that she needs to make an unpopular gesture to show that she means business. So she chose airport expansion, and expansion of London’s Heathrow airport in particular.

This has a great deal of symbolic value. Heathrow expansion has been a political football for as long as I can remember. Its advocates have always justified it in terms of “growth”, and there is a fierce NIMBY opposition. These can be presented as London elitists – but there are no obvious beneficiaries to the project outside the country’s richest region. Driving this through would be a signal achievement, showing that the government really does mean business.

There is a plausible economic case to be made for expanding Heathrow – The Economist makes an attempt this week, based on its value as a hub airport for Europe. Ms Reeves failed to make it on her media round. This included an extended interview with Justin Webb for the Today Podcast. In it she insisted that the potential impact on carbon emissions has been neutralised since it was last reviewed by the use of biofuels. Well there are ambitious targets for the greening of aviation fuel globally – but these lack credibility and look more like a smokescreen for the aviation industry. There is no way that Britain’s pressurised agricultural sector could produce these fuels itself. The Economist doesn’t even try to suggest this (though another article suggests that Brazil might turns itself to this fuel, if it can find sufficient investment); it just says that the use of electric ground vehicles (a lot of the pollution comes from the ground, apparently) and the diversion of flights from other other ports mean that the impact on carbon emissions is reduced. I don’t understand why Ms Reeves chose to make her central argument on such tricky ground.

I am personally unconvinced by the economic case for Heathrow expansion, even though it is no longer in my backyard (though Gatwick is, but that’s another story). I have a more quotidian worry. The new runway would cross London’s orbital M25 motorway, which would have to go through a tunnel underneath. The western M25 is a critical road artery (pretty much unavoidable if you want to travel to western parts of the country from here in East Sussex); it has already been badly disrupted by the rebuilding of its A3 junction. That work will barely be finished before it would again be disrupted by the construction of the tunnel. That will have its own impacts on economic activity. That’s small beer – but the prospect of re-launching the expansion programme for the managers of Heathrow remains a very daunting one – and notwithstanding government support for the next 4 years – they may not be willing to risk another failed project.

What is striking about Ms Reeve’s dash for growth, though, is how retro it looks – and not just Heathrow. The infrastructure projects are concentrated in the already prosperous South East (including two more airport expansions) and the government promises to play fast and loose with environmental objections. Gone is the idea of “Levelling up” or a “Northern Powerhouse”, to try and secure growth by helping less prosperous regions catch up. These ideas were admittedly Tory – but they helped keep the so-called Red Wall of seats in the North, Midlands and Wales in play. Labour won these seats back in their landslide, and it is striking that the government is leaving them out of its flagship programme, given that these same seats are subject to a surge of support for Reform UK. But it represents economic orthodoxy (the prevailing culture in the Treasury after all) – and thus the government’s seriousness about the whole thing.

That’s striking because the government is still pushing back against two other bits of orthodoxy. It won’t seriously engage with the EU about substantive trade integration for fear of reopening the Brexit wounds (this time in deference to that Red Wall). And it continues with its ambitious strengthening of workers’s rights; orthodox economics would suggest that this will discourage investment. Businesses are now hoping that they can pressure the government into watering these down. They may well make headway.

All this is rather depressing. Some of the ideas are perfectly sound, and it would be really encouraging if the government could push them through – the Oxford-Cambridge corridor (including rebuilding a railway line stupidly closed by Beeching in the 1960s, in accordance with the then economic orthodoxy), and a further lower Thames crossing. But a retreat into old-fashioned orthodoxy feels like the government is trying to revive a lost past, rather than providing a vision of a hopeful future.

Perhaps that’s unfair. The government is desperate to try and create a more hopeful zeitgeist. Attempts to try and paint a more hopeful and optimistic vision, around green energy for example, have fallen flat in its absence. One of the government’s ideas for regional development involves reorganising local government. also the government sets great store by the gutting of planning laws (and the local government reorganisation into bigger units may also have the aim helping drive through planning applications). These will take time to yield results. Ms Reeve’s budget will increase public spending over the next year, and this should rev things up a bit. Once the mood shifts to something better, it may be time to be a bit bolder.

Perhaps so, but my abiding impression is of a Chancellor who lacks a bold vision of a new, modern economy, and is unduly reliant on the conventional wisdom of her Treasury civil servants. I hope I am wrong.

First published on Substack

Liberals must rethink the state to renew their appeal

Were the neoliberals right after all?

People on the political right are still enjoying themselves now that Donald Trump has assumed the US presidency. Unlike his first term, but much as was forecast, he has established real momentum. He has surprised even me in how he has managed to bend his narrow majorities in the legislature to his will – in contrast to his last presidency. Opponents seem largely stunned into silence. Even The Economist is trying to put a hopeful gloss on things. But it is not enough to predict that this is hubris before a fall: the alternative liberal and left narratives have been shattered. How are they to be replaced?

The Trump euphoria puts me in mind of two episodes, one from the recent past, and one from history. The recent one, which I have already written about, is Boris Johnson’s landslide victory in December 2019. This was accompanied by much hubris, which rapidly unraveled for the same reasons that Mr Trump’s will: impossible promises and valuing loyalty over competence in senior appointments. Such euphoria is common – I can also think of Joe Biden in 2021, Barack Obama in 2009 and Tony Blair in 1997. All led to various levels of disappointment, notwithstanding some genuine achievements. Opposition appeared muted at first on these occasions too. Interestingly, there was no euphoria last year when Labour achieved a landslide victory after 14 years of Conservative-led government in Britain. 

The other episode is much darker because it did not precede a fall: Hitler’s assumption of power in 1933. Hitler’s democratic mandate was a weak one, but he used his access to the levers of power ruthlessly to generate momentum that won over some of the sceptics and many of the undecided. He used this momentum, including the propagation of many fascist narratives, to dismantle the checks and balances of the constitution and secure his power. It took twelve years and the worst war the world has ever seen to dislodge him. There are elements of this in Trump’s accession: he has shown disregard for the constitutional order; he relentlessly promotes false narratives; he commands a party that is intensely loyal to him personally; there is a willingness to threaten violence to get his way. But Mr Trump is no Hitler – he is much more driven by personal narcissism; he is less shaped by a racist narrative (though he’s happy to co-opt many who are racist); he is more influenced by a libertarian narrative, quite unlike the Nazi one; he appears to genuinely dislike war, even as he likes to issue threats, where Hitler saw war as destiny. And he is much older and time-constrained. And the USA in 2025 is not Germany in 1933 – democracy is much more deeply embedded, government is much less centralised, people are much wealthier, and there is no shadow of a major military defeat. But some very bad things could happen. In the end, though, this brand of politics is likely to get weakened and collapse as it will self-evidently be unable to deliver. Hitler had the opportunity of a Keynesian expansion of the economy to transform incomes and jobs; Mr Trump does not.

But such an insight is little help to liberals. Mr Trump’s victory marks a serious defeat. The actual margin may have been small, but he was a manifestly unsuitable candidate, promoting extreme policies. He has a base that accepts pretty much all of what he says – but he also persuaded many millions of less committed people, who saw through his schtick but nevertheless still thought he was a better bet than the liberal alternative. And the momentum following his victory will have only consolidated his support. After his first victory in 2016 there may have been a “Did we really mean to do that?” moment amongst many who voted for him. There will be few doubts this time – indeed people will be anxious to prove to themselves that they made the right choice. The relatively muted liberal (and left) response is warranted. This is a necessary step on the path to renewal. In 2017 there was denial and anger; now we are in negotiation and depression. One of the things that I have learnt since my idealistic 20s is that all lasting change must go through these stages of grief. You must get beyond the anger, but that path leads through depression. You can speed the process up but you can’t avoid it. So depression now is a good sign – it means that people understand how serious the problem is and are a step closer to renewal.

I find myself thinking back to 2017. Then, in the aftermath of the Brexit referendum, Trump’s first victory and the rise of the far-right in many European countries, I pondered how to save liberalism from the rising tide of populism. But the mainstream response was less to reflect on failure, and more on the call to resist. Denial and anger won. Emmanuel Macron won a remarkable victory for liberalism in France; Joe Biden was elected in America on 2020; Boris Johnson’s populist coalition fell apart almost as soon as it had been created. But then Mr Trump came back harder and wiser. Mr Macron came unstuck not despite his attempts to promote serious economic reform, but because of them. Mr Biden’s path of hope and denial was no more successful than Mr Macron’s telling of hard truths. Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour Party may have won in Britain, but he secured only 34% of a relatively low turnout, with the populist Reform UK surging. And now his government finds itself prisoner of its denial of the problems that the country faces.

The problem is that the world has changed. The economy has changed so much that a reordering of government and society is required to meet it. Current ways – with a substantial government payroll and vast social safety net – were based on a growing economy, which allowed an ever increasing tax take, and an ever-increasing workforce as the baby bulge worked through its working years and women were drawn into the workforce. The production side of the economy steadily expanded, allowing the state to expand, and especially to provide services and benefits to older people. But the baby bulge is joining their ranks – they are now living much longer previous generations too. Those older people, either retired or winding down productive work, are delivering a double whammy – exiting the productive, taxable economy, while demanding ever more resources from the state. To sustain this in the traditional way, requires a combination of three things: increased productivity, gains from trade, and immigration. But productivity gains are harder to get, and require unpopular disruption; the opportunities for gains from trade have diminished; and immigration is creating social stresses, especially in housing, where in most countries supply is not keeping pace with demand. The result, right across the developed world, is economic stagnation and widening government deficits. This may not be as unsustainable as many pundits profess, but it can’t go on indefinitely. The capital required to keep things running, from domestic savings or from trade surpluses in the less developed world (notably China) must have limits. 

There are opportunities as well. The two big ones are clean energy – and especially solar power – and information technology (including, but not restricted to, AI). Also the need to reduce over-consumption in developed countries can be linked to a compelling case to protect the environment, especially from climate change. Further developments in life sciences also offer the prospects for improved length and quality of life: not just from more effective treatments and procedures, but also from a better understanding of how to live healthily. 

The right are currently thriving on a diet of denial. They think that good, and improved, standards of living can be sustained without higher taxes, adaptation to clean technologies, or higher levels of immigration. But they have no coherent plan for doing this and are heading for disaster. They are in denial and anger, while liberals are in negotiation and depression. What does renewal look like?

The first thing to say is that the political left has proved an utter failure and is imploding. These have been liberals’ traditional allies – and indeed in America most people make no distinction between liberals and the left. The left has lost its connection with working classes – not keeping pace with how these classes have changed. Instead their base is government workers, and workers in non-governmental organisations which are mainly sustained by governments. They have a huge stake in maintaining the size of government, and giving the government more to do through creating and enforcing rules and regulations. This amounts to managing social problems rather than solving them. This was evident in the left’s shrill opposition to “austerity” in Britain following the great financial crisis of 2007-09, and especially the policies of Conservative-led governments from 2010. This is increasingly unsustainable. Furthermore the left has disappeared into a rabbit hole of identity politics focused on ethnic minorities in particular. They have developed a new language – “cultural appropriation”; “white privilege”; “micro-aggressions”; “critical race theory” – which they seek to impose by regulatory fiat, meaning that majority communities feel they are constantly treading on eggshells, while minorities are encouraged to express offence at a broader and broader range of things. Challenge is suppressed (“cancelled”) rather than taken on. I suppose the hope was that regulations would lead and hearts and minds would follow. But instead they have created stress and people are reeling – including increasing numbers from minority communities. Many are cheering Mr Trump’s roll-back of DEI (Diversity. Equity and Inclusion) initiatives, and not just those on the hard right. It is not that the aims of DEI are wrong, but that they seem more of a job-creation scheme than a solution.

Just how far the left appreciates its failure, and how much they are stuck in denial and anger, I don’t really know. But it is clear that the left is losing political traction everywhere. They may yet be part of a liberal-led political coalition, but they are not enough to defeat the right. Liberals need to distance themselves from the left and attract the centre-right, who will become rapidly disillusioned with the radical-right.

What does that mean? I think it means that liberals need to take a more robust and critical view of government – seeking to make it much more effective and efficient. I am taking care not to say that it should shrink – but it does need to achieve more with the same level of resource, and retreat from areas best left for people to work out for themselves. Fundamentally that means trying to create a better-ordered society with healthier lifestyles – so that fewer public services are needed to fix problems. Funnily enough this is pretty much exactly what the British Conservative leader, Kemi Badenoch, is saying – though she is much better at diagnosing the problem than offering any coherent solutions. In policy terms I think we can see a number of specifics, thinking especially of the British perspective:

  • The drive by the government to improve efficiency by the application of AI is half-right – but it is in danger of being a solution in search of a problem. The objective should be to re-engineer public services holistically – with AI and other technologies enablers. Otherwise we will simply automate bad practice. The key is to break down departmental silos – with solutions based on the needs of people rather than a collection of abstract problems.
  • The NHS presents a particular problem. No amount of reengineering is going to allow it to keep pace with increased demand. And trying to solve those problems without addressing social care, as the government seems to be trying to do, is nonsense. Vastly more resources are needed for social care and health services – especially if we are to rely less on cheap labour imported from abroad. This means higher taxes or a much enlarged private sector, or some combination of the two. Funnily enough the last government, between Boris Johnson and Rishi Sunak, made an important step in that direction with their hypothecated National Insurance. Reversing this may have been may have been Liz Truss’s most consequential and most destructive achievement. Now mainstream politicians seem unable to face up to the challenge. That has to change.
  • Taxes will surely have to rise on exactly the “working people” that the current government is trying to avoid raising taxes on. These taxes are the most economically efficient for a number of reasons. My vision of a smaller state is based largely on reduced demand for its services (except health); but this will take time to achieve and there will be short-term costs. Achieving all the required investment through additional borrowing presents some big risks.
  • The current government is right about many of the things it wants to do. Investment must continue in clean energy infrastructure, requiring NIMBYs to be dealt with more robustly. Social housing must be expanded – as lack of availability of housing is behind so many social problems. Deregulation may be helpful but it would be better if this was part of a vision of more effective overall governance than an invitation for lobby groups to peddle their hobby-horses. I am less convinced about expanding air travel, though.
  • The UK needs to re-embrace the European Union. This will have to be gradual – focusing on making trade more efficient. For all the Union’s many flaws, economic integration with our closest neighbours is one way to make the economic activity more effective, and we will need all effectiveness we can find.
  • Mass immigration, however, for so long the safety valve for the British economy, will need to be brought down. It is creating too many stresses and does not provide a long-term solution. That is the main reason why both taxes will need to rise and public services made more effective and efficient. Politicians should start making that connection with the public. Lower immigration does not come for free.
  • The private sector – and capitalism – must be embraced as the most efficient way of reconciling supply and demand. But there must be minimum levels of income so that all have a degree of consumer power. And monopoly capitalism must be closely watched. Some services are genuinely better provided by the state.

It strikes me is how much overlap there is here with old neoliberal ideas, which emphasised smaller government, a less regulated private sector and lower taxes. I don’t think lower taxes can be part of the equation, because of the demographic pressures, especially in a lower-immigration environment. And neoliberals were more relaxed about migration. Neoliberals are an object of loathing by the left – who are inclined to suggest that capitalism has failed, without providing any idea of an effective alternative. This is another reason that liberals need to break free of the left until and unless it goes through its own process of renewal.

And what is the vision? It is of a well-ordered society with low levels of crime, inured into healthy lifestyles and carbon-negative. Nobody should struggle to secure some level of decent housing and other basic needs, provided that they make a positive contribution to society in some way. I don’t think that is impossible, but we have a long way to go. Perhaps above all liberals need to think more about what this vision is and how it might work. Only then will we have a persuasive case to make to people who do not currently think of themselves as liberals – on both right and left.

This post was first published on my Substack account.

What do we learn from the grooming gang scandal?

A political pile-on distracts us from institutional failures

One of Elon Musk’s tamer tweets over the New Year

Over the New Year the grooming gang scandal flared brightly here in Britain, inflamed by tweets on X by its owner, Elon Musk. Politicians of various stripes piled on; establishment types came back with “nothing to see here,” with varying levels of indignation, before making interventions that should have been done some time ago. It has now died down again, as Mr Musk’s attention has moved on. But the episode is instructive.

The scandal concerns the grooming and abuse of teenage girls in a number of English towns (and presumably other British towns too) by groups of Pakistani-heritage men from the late 1980s on. The scandal was brought to public attention in the 2010s and has been flaring up periodically since. Abuse is probably continuing in some places – it has been so hard to contain because it was so widespread, especially if you consider group-based abuse more widely than that perpetrated by this ethnic group. The abuse was not investigated at the time it was occurring because the girls, from a lower class background, weren’t taken seriously, because there was a perceived sensitivity around the ethnicity of the perpetrators, and because authorities were generally struggling to take child sexual abuse seriously. It is far from the only child sexual abuse scandal circulating – others include the Church of England and the Catholic Church, and children’s homes (i.e. what used to be called orphanages).

Political exploitation of the scandal was led by what I will call the “far-right”, because I can’t think of a better term. Unfortunately different people mean different things by this term – so I need to explain what I mean. I am talking about extreme white-nationalist groups that believe in the use of violence to promote their beliefs. The de facto leader of this fringe is “Tommy Robinson” (not his real name, but that’s another story), now in prison, but with a following in social media, including in the United States. This group focuses explicitly on the racial aspects of the scandal (the victims are overwhelmingly white). Their political objective is the removal of people with brown or black skins (doubtless with exceptions), and a stop to their immigration. They have very little public support – their tendency to violence and the explicitness of their racism puts people off. Tommy Robinson has been vocal about the scandal for many years, and so far as his supporters are concerned, he is being victimised by the establishment for his troubles, and should be freed. Mr Musk has piled on his support for this, though how far he actually supports far-right objectives I am less clear; more likely he doesn’t really know who he is. 

The next group to move in are what I will call the populist-right – which includes the Reform UK party led by Nigel Farage, and the Substack activist Matt Goodwin. These eschew the violent methods and explicit racism of the far-right, though their critics accuse them of implicit support of both. Their objective is to stoke up anger at an out-of-touch liberal elite. They don’t put forward specific policy solutions (though opposition to immigration is a central theme of theirs): in this case they are simply calling for any kind of public enquiry that the political establishment doesn’t want. They just want to scratch the itch until it bleeds. Ultimately their aim is to take political power. Reform UK polled in the teens in the 2024 election, and have 5 MPs, including Mr Farage. They now poll in the 20s, in the same ball-park as Labour and regularly overtaking the Conservatives. They are much more popular than the far-right, though to date a majority of electors has a strong dislike of them – which doesn’t stop the populist-right, especially Mr Goodwin, claiming that they speak for the majority.

And then finally came the Conservatives. In government they followed the establishment line, but now in opposition and worried about Reform, they are calling for a national enquiry, after calling for the publication of an ethnic analysis of abuse statistics that had already been published. The focus of this enquiry seems to be different from the call for a public enquiry that precipitated this particular flare-up – which just focused on the town of Oldham. The government had turned down the call for a central government-led enquiry in favour of a locally-led one. Some Conservatives, notably shadow justice secretary Robert Jenrick, are channelling the populist-right.

What about the establishment? They want to generalise the case of the Pakistani gangs into the wider problem of child abuse (which they say is much, much bigger) and adopt general solutions to the whole field, marginalising the racial aspect. They point to a public enquiry by Alexis Jay that reported in October 2022. There is no need for a further high-level enquiry, we just need to get on with implementing the Jay recommendations, they say – though it turns out that this implementation has not been particularly rapid. If further enquiries are needed for specific towns, these are best to be locally-led – and, indeed, there are several successful examples of these. Labour are following this establishment line, and, though I have heard nothing explicit, the Liberal Democrats and the Greens are too.

What of the victims? Everybody claims to be putting them first, but that is hard to swallow. The BBC has found a few, and interviewed them. These women want a public enquiry – the motivation seems to be the feeling that the world has moved on since the original scandal broke, and they want more attention paid to it. I suspect they want the circle of accountability to broaden, beyond the direct perpetrators, to include those whose poor judgement and prejudice allowed the abuse to persist for much longer than it might have done. That would be a valid concern – though many local political leaders have paid a price, following local enquiries.

The victims seem to have been mainly from what used to be called “broken homes” – lacking a secure family life, and in many instances in institutional care. The authorities regarded them as unruly and badly behaved, and the authors of their own fate. Lacking a loving home environment, they were very vulnerable to grooming tactics. The police and those responsible for their care were unwilling to help. This has been put down to class prejudice, though the difference in social class between the victims and those that might have helped probably wasn’t that great – so the prejudice was a more complex thing. I would like to think that things have moved on, but I am constantly surprised about how persistent prejudice can be.

A further aspect of these cases is the accusation that the authorities were soft on the perpetrators because of their ethnicity. This aspect is played up by both the far-right and the populist-right. The police are accused of fearing accusations of racism. There does seem to be at least some basis for this. But from the accounts I read when the scandals first emerged, it was a bit more complicated than that. Local government in the towns concerned was typically run by Labour councils who had a monopoly or near-monopoly of councillors. This meant that the key politics was between the various factions of the Labour Party and not public elections. These included paternalistic ethnic groups (typically referred to as “community leaders”) who were allowed to run their patches as their own fiefdoms. The problem largely stemmed from this: these leaders would rally round the accused individuals to protect their community’s reputation – and did not seem to be overly worried about it themselves. (Much as churches have in their own abuse scandals – lest anybody think this behaviour is specific to ethnicity). Any attempt to disturb this arrangement would indeed have been branded as racism – a standard defence of such community leaders and their political associates. The way that the British electoral system (more precisely English one now, as Scotland and Wales have reformed theirs) creates local one-party states is a democratic disgrace that both Labour and the Conservatives shrug at. It is much harder for such unaccountable relationships to flourish in properly competitive electoral systems. One of the biggest mistakes of the Liberal Democrats in coalition in 2010 was not to insist on local government electoral reform – rather than accepting a referendum on the Alternative Vote that set the cause of electoral reform back. This is beyond the scope of any mooted enquiry into child abuse, of course.

What of public enquiries? This is the standard British response to any scandal. The British way is to adopt a cumbersome process that usually takes years to get anywhere, and usually without any serious impact once it is finished. Politicians are accused of using them to kick issues into the long grass. As this episode shows, though, that isn’t entirely fair. In this case it is the voting public that seems keen, with politicians taking their lead from them. There seems to be something about the process of compelling witnesses to testify in public that the public likes – a case of the process achieving a degree of accountability that the wheels of justice don’t. The government’s case against the need for a new national enquiry is a sound one though. It actually delays the process of justice.

But this case is about a lot more than ensuring that criminal sanctions are brought against the perpetrators. It is about getting a degree of accountability for those who enabled the abuse to go on, often in open sight. Local enquiries can do that – and the government has announced five more. But there are also wider systems failures – and we are not likely to see much recognition of this.

I have already mentioned the tendency for one-party states to dominate the political leadership of local government – and this often creates a culture of paternalism and coverup. There is a further problem with the management of children and young people who lack a stable home life – and especially those who are institutionalised. Some public institutions actually work quite well: primary schools for example. But social services are hopelessly overstretched. Attitudes of the professions involved may have improved in the last 50 years, but resourcing has not kept pace. It is widely known that early interventions are the most effective – and the Labour government of 1997 to 2010 was making some headway – but this gets lost amid shorter-term public spending priorities, and the austerity years did for any progress. There was indeed too much waffle and verbiage (consultant-speak) in the government’s approach – but the direction was right. I am not as critical of austerity as many – but this is one of the areas (along with the criminal justice system) where very short-sighted cuts were made. The failure was both allowing the abusers to get away with what they were doing, and not looking out for vulnerable young people.

What is required is not more inquiries. What is needed is good political leadership, both locally to strengthen communities, and nationally to ensure that adequate resources are made available. This is not totally lacking, but it should be much, much better.

First published on Substack here

Understanding MAGA economics: the thinking of Peter Navarro

Former Director of the Office of Trade and Manufacturing Policy Peter Navarro speaking with attendees at The Believers Summit at the Palm Beach County Convention Center in West Palm Beach, Florida in July 2024. Photo: Gage Skidmore, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

President Donald Trump plans a radical economic policy that ditches conventional macroeconomics. This week’s Economist refers to three strands of economic thought within the administration: conservative mainstream, America-firsters, and the tech tycoons. The conservative mainstream favours low taxes, deregulation and small government, but favours trade. America-firsters are hostile to international trade and immigration. Tech tycoons have a particular slant towards regulation of the tech industry, favouring some businesses but not, generally, the giants – and like some types of immigration. It is the America-firsters who present the biggest challenge to conventional economics – and lie at the heart of the way Mr Trump himself thinks, and it is likely to be the regime’s guiding philosophy. 

Mr Trump himself has shown no grasp of economic thinking. But he is advised by people who are economically literate, and who do promote the America-first stance. Chief among these is Peter Navarro, who is close to Mr Trump. Last weekend the FT published an article about him by Gillian Tett, featuring an interview. I think it is important to understand the thinking of people I disagree with, so this article gave me the basis to try and understand America-first economics, which might also be called MAGA economics. 

To get a flavour of Mr Navarro’s thinking, here are some quotes from him, drawn from Ms Tett’s article. Each paragraph is a separate quote:

Ricardo is dead!

America, the piggy bank, will continue to be plundered by a trade deficit that transfers more than half a trillion dollars of American wealth a year into foreign hands . . . [through] industrial espionage, rampant cheating, intellectual property theft, forced technology transfer, state capitalism and currency misalignments… It’s long past time for the ivory tower to reimagine and re-engineer its models of trade!

Net tariffs will lower the US trade deficit and thereby boost real GDP growth while slowing the transfer of US assets into foreign hands, thereby preserving US wealth. 

As domestic investment and production increases and supply chains become more stable and resilient, real wages will rise, inflation will fall and our nation will be more secure.

Saying that Ricardo is dead is akin to saying that arithmetic is obsolete. Indeed some commentators think that many MAGA types, including Mr Trump himself, don’t have a grasp of arithmetic. David Ricardo’s theory of comparative advantage, a regular topic on my blog, is cold, hard and irrefutable logic – and there is plenty of evidence of its operation in the global economy. So what do people mean when they say it is “dead”? They mean that this theory has lost its power to guide policy. In the MAGA context I think there are two aspects to this. First is that the USA is a huge and diverse economy in its own right, and should be close to self-sufficient, with a huge variety of comparative advantage within its own borders. And, indeed, the country’s dependence on foreign trade is generally low compared to other developed economies.

But more attention is given to the fact that the US trades with a large deficit to the rest of the world – creating a current account deficit of 3.4% of GDP. This is one of the biggest deficits in the world (according to The Economist’s statistics only Greece and Egypt have larger ones amongst the economies they report on). And this is the focus of Mr Navarro’s second quote. In a well-ordered, one might say “fair”, economic system, deficits and surpluses should be small and temporary, except in situations where there is a strategic intention to transfer resources from one economy to another. A substantial and continuing imbalance, in the absence of such a strategic intent, is evidence of misalignment. Conventional economists talk in terms of currency valuation – but industrial espionage and the other unfair practices doubtless contribute – and there is evidence of all them in the case of China (running a surplus of 2.1%, not counting Hong Kong, which has a 12.2% surplus on its much smaller GDP).

The result of a current account deficit is that it must be funded by the supply of capital by foreigners, or by the running down of the nation’s own assets held abroad. In America’s case, this may be through direct investment in businesses or property on US soil, through to the purchase of US Treasury bonds, funding the US government. US ownership of US domestic assets is being steadily diminished. An aggressive policy of tariffs would encourage more businesses supplying US consumers to be based in the US. This would create more demand for US workers, and so raise their level of pay, as well as creating an economy less exposed to the vagaries of world events. That is the essence of the last two quotes, and it is surely the thinking at the heart of MAGA economics.

That logic has as many holes as a sieve. But the interesting thing is not to pull it apart, but to understand the broader philosophy that makes this weak logic sustainable. The clue is in the name “America First” or “Make America Great Again”. It is the horror at the idea that the US is losing relative ground to other economies, and especially China – and that this is being facilitated by a open approach to trade and investment that seems to say “Walk all over me”, or, in more Christian terms “Turn the other cheek”. Good quality American jobs have been disappearing abroad. A pandemic in China snarls up US supply chains. China is finding the wealth to build up huge armed forces which are pushing against US influence in the Far East and elsewhere. In this view economic policy is as much about political power and social stability as about economic efficiency and wealth. Tariffs policies may not be enough to sort out America’s trade deficit, for example, but they might if combined with other policies – and that is where the debate should be. Liberal economists want to make the world as a whole a better place, and are relaxed about other countries doing well, so long as this is not at anybody else’s expense – and most would argue that is the case for China’s rise, by and large. America gets cheaper products, and it’s easier to run a budget deficit allowing more public spending or lower taxes (because all that foreign funding enables it).

One interesting aspect of this idea of economic policy is that it is very similar to how the Chinese government sees things on its own behalf too. That is illustrated by another article in The Economist, showing how nervous China’s leadership is about Chinese firms investing abroad – with anxieties about exporting jobs and technical knowhow. This is in contrast to how America’s governments used to see things. India’s government has this tendency too. I think comes back to an earlier point of mine: big economies aren’t so dependent of foreign trade in the first place, and can think of being economically self-sufficient. Of the world’s large economies only the European Union (arguably not a single economy) has a liberal outlook to international trade. Smaller countries, like Britain, can’t afford such an outlook – which is making the world a more difficult place now that America is retreating from those ideals.

This post is published on Substack here

The populists are looking forward to 2025, but they will be disappointed

Happy New Year to my readers! These few days are thick with journalists making predictions for the year ahead. This is probably a good discipline for them – and even better if they revisit them at the end of the year to see how they did. But it makes less attractive reading, and I don’t tend to do it myself. Mostly the fare is gloomy stuff. But one group abounds with optimism: the political populists, and supporters of Donald Trump in particular. I want to reflect on that.

As usual my starting point is Matt Goodwin. I rarely read more than a couple of paragraphs of his Substack – and since I’m not a paid subscriber that is often all I’m offered. The writing is high on rant and low on content. It’s only good reading if you want to be wound up, one way or the other. His New Year post offered a note of optimism: “things are moving our way” he said, with the hated “elites” getting their comeuppance. The main driver for this was that he anticipated that the Trump administration would prove that radical-right solutions would work, contrary to the heaps of scepticism from the liberal elite. And this success would strengthen the growing populist movements around the world.

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This rather captures the zeitgeist of populists. Extreme pessimism about how the world is going to hell in a handcart is combined with excessive optimism about what their favoured leaders and policies can achieve. Optimism from Trump supporters, and corresponding pessimism from their liberal critics, is currently rampant. It is behind the strong performance of US shares (I have just dumped the two funds most exposed to this effect in my pension pot – but the profits have been welcome). The idea behind this is that tax cuts and deregulation will drive up corporate profits, while tariffs are either a negotiating bluff or will favour big American companies. 

There are two big problems with this outlook. The first is that the politics is much trickier than most people seem to realise. The second is that the policies won’t work either. Consider the politics. In spite of Mr Goodwin describing Mr Trump’s victory as a “landslide”, it was actually very close. He secured slightly under half the popular vote, with a margin of about 1.5% over Kamala Harris. This is a big victory by recent Republican standards, and gave him a comfortable majority in the electoral college, but hardly overwhelming. More to the point, the Republican majorities in both houses of Congress are very tight; it even shrank in the House of Representatives. This will not make getting controversial legislation through easy – and especially from an administration whose political negotiating skills are pretty weak (especially compared to Joe Biden, the outgoing president). Some aspects of Mr Trump’s policy don’t require congressional approval – but the tax cuts, such a central part of the business optimism for Trump, do require this. It will be more than hard going. The response of many liberal commentators is “pass the popcorn” as they seek to get some entertainment from the Republican infighting. Meanwhile the flurry of executive orders will doubtless be subject to a blizzard of legal challenges. That is the American way.

And the policies themselves are bound to disappoint. Mr Goodwin confidently expects mass deportations to take place rapidly, as promised by Mr Trump. This will be much harder and slower going than he expects, and will have adverse short-term economic consequences, as it will throw uncertainty into the labour market. Tariffs cannot possibly meet the expectations placed on them by the policy’s supporters. And so it goes on. There is no great pool of untapped economic potential waiting to be unleashed (as there was in the 1930s, say). Just how the economy will play out is very uncertain, however, largely because the politics is so difficult that it is hard to predict which policies will be enacted and when. A common view, which I have put forward myself, is that tax cuts and tariffs will drive inflation up. An alternative is that the economy stagnates as these policies fail to get started, and uncertainty undermines investment. 

The Trump administration may achieve some good things. There is bound to be a lot of nonsense going on in the current regime. Funnily enough, I think the prospects for Mr Trump’s foreign policy are better than for domestic policy. His highly transactional approach is easy to grasp, and accords with how many foreign governments like to do business. I am really hoping he can force a peace in Ukraine that does not neutralise that country. Mr Biden seems to have run out of ideas (incidentally it is entirely possible that a President Harris would have accomplished a peace settlement too). My hopes for the Middle East are weaker – it looks as if Mr Trump will give Israel free rein. But that is pretty much what Mr Biden was doing. There is talk of a deal on Iran, but I’m not sure if the leaders of that country have enough to offer to make any deal look good. The Trump administration may simply play a long game for regime change. In the longer term my main fear is that the muddle and confusion of Trump’s Taiwan policy will encourage China to launch a military attack while the window of opportunity persists.

Overall, though, I see that the populist movement be disappointed, and the politics among Republicans will turn toxic. This will take some wind out of the sails for populists elsewhere. But the long term drivers of populism remain. Demographics and the changed working of the global economy are forcing difficult choices on governments, on tax, on spending and on immigration policy. The public as yet shows no sign of facing up to these difficulties – so the populist message that this is all the fault of an out-of-touch elite still has potential. The floundering of Britain’s new Labour government; the political impasse in France; and the prospect of something similar in Germany – these all show that the mainstream political parties have no answers either. 

Something has to give. As yet I don’t have a feel for what this will be. But populists don’t have any workable answers and populist-led governments are likely to fail. Or if they don’t fail, it will be because they will adapt to reality and manage to sell it to the public and reduce their expectations to something more realistic. Some governments might succeed (Georgia Meloni; perhaps even Marine Le Pen); but not Donald Trump.

This post has been published on Substack

Thinking Liberal moves into Substack

I started my blog, thinking liberal.co.uk, in 2011, when political blogs were quite popular. I used Facebook and Twitter to find interested readers. That was quite popular then. My blog had quite a reasonable impact – people mentioned it to me at party conferences. I interacted with people on both Facebook and Twitter. That was a brief moment of glory – it has since faded into something followed by a few friends and a small band of others whom I have picked up on the way. I don’t know how many, as the statistics seem to be dominated by bots and fakes; even the rather limited mailing list seems to have quite a few dodgy items.

Facebook and Twitter are now well down the path of enshittification, a process first described by Cory Doctorow in 2022. An online service starts by favouring the interests of customers and people to the point of lunacy: everything is free and under your control. Gradually the process of monetisation takes over until customers (and staff) are left with a very weak product, but little alternative because these have been squashed through network effects. Facebook made it harder and harder to use for the distribution of political thought. It was attracting too much controversy (mainly because of its use to promote conspiracy theories and fake news), and the simplest solution was to block all of it, not just the bad stuff. My feed is now full of things I never asked for, driven by sponsorship or an algorithm. Posts from a few friends show up from time to time (to which I need to respond if I am to have any chance of seeing them regularly) – but blink and you miss it. The feed refreshes and the post vanishes. You can find things by searching for the poster, but it’s hard work. For a while I could mitigate some of the problems by creating a Facebook page for my blog, which if people “liked”, they were much more likely to pick up posts on their feed. When I most recently visited this page, however, I was shocked. It was full of junk content put there by algorithm. I had expected to see a sequence of the posts I had made. It has been completely enshittified. To make it work I would need to buy promotion.

Twitter, meanwhile, made it harder for me to post links to my blog long before Elon Musk decided to trash it. Tools that allowed an automatic post ceased to work. I have long since ceased to post, though my account still exists, as some of the notifications are interesting, though even this has tailed off.

Then along came Substack – a blog distribution system. This has proved very popular amongst political bloggers, and so I thought I would give it a try. I’m not entirely sure how it works, or how far along the path of enshittification it has travelled – though the journey has clearly started. One particular feature, though, I will not use: paid subscriptions. I write the blog for my personal pleasure, and because I find that writing helps clarify thought. It is irregular, and I have long since abandoned any idea that it can be seriously influential. I don’t need the money. I suspect that subscriptions are an important part of the Substack business model, though, so this may not be sustainable in the long term. We’ll see.

My plan is to publish all my future posts here. The WordPress website will keep going – this at least is pretty much under my control, and acts as a record of my writing. Email subscription there seems to be costless and easy, so I will keep going with it; Substack will simply been an alternative channel. I may drop the Facebook page – though it does seem to be pretty costless to keep going. I will also keep posting on my main Facebook feed, as I know a few of my friends are picking it up. I will probably stop the silly AI pictures (unless people say they like them). I put these on to improve the chances of the Facebook algorithms favouring them – and to avoid the copyright issues arising from using real pictures. 

So let’s see what happens!

You should be able to find my Substack page and subscribe here.

The SNP needs a reinvention

Copilot again. This is too optimistic for the current state of the SNP, but climbing a high mountain in shorts may be an apt metaphor

The last in my post-election survey of Britain’s main political parties concludes with the Scottish National Party. Alongside the Conservatives, it was a big loser in the general election, being reduced from 48 seats to just 9. But they still control the Scottish parliament, with no election until 2026. They are down but definitely not out. But they will need to do some should searching if they are not to sink back further.

Firstly, though, I must offer a health warning. I am not Scottish, and I have few political contacts north of the border. I am not plugged into politics there in the way that I am in England. So this is very much an outsider’s view. Still outsiders’ views can have value – and Scottish politics does impact English politics through our shared nation.

The SNP’s fall over the last two years has been dramatic. Until 2023, the party was sweeping all before it in Scotland. Nicola Sturgeon, its leader, was one of the most experienced in British politics, and presented a calm, reasonable face to the party – she was a gifted political communicator. And yet behind this calm exterior, all was clearly not well. The performance of the Scottish government under SNP control was lacklustre, on such basic issues as health, education and law and order (Glasgow having an astonishingly bad record on drugs). Ms Sturgeon presented a much more credible public face during the covid pandemic than England’s Boris Johnson – but Scotland’s results were no better. The SNP seemed too interested in politics and not enough in administration. It preferred to stay close with interest groups, rather than undertake tough reforms – apart from a botched reform of Scotland’s police. The reforms that there were centralised power to the Edinburgh government. Its Green coalition partners proved highly ideological and spent little effort engaging with the public. The Scottish government then took on a reform of gender recognition laws that was aligned with the leftwing-liberal consensus, but poorly aligned with general public opinion. This was heavily promoted by the Greens, but actually drew support from across the political spectrum. Public protests and celebrity opposition (notably from Scottish author J.K. Rowling) seemed to take the Edinburgh elite by surprise. When the UK government (led by the very unpopular and chaotic conservatives) blocked the law, it won rare approval north of the border. Meanwhile the party’s goal of Scottish independence remained a long way off, as the UK government refused a second referendum.

And then the incestuous goings on in the SNP’s internal management were exposed in a police investigation into possible misuse of funds. Ms Sturgeon retired as leader just before the storm broke. The alleged abuse (using funds donated to support an independence referendum for general electioneering) was not necessarily all that serious – and its illegality has yet to be resolved. But the scandal exposed very unhealthy governance. The party’s reputation was in tatters, not helped by the selection of a hapless new leader, Hamza Youssef , who seemed to expose the party’s lack of depth in talent. Was this party really capable of running an independent country? And that led on to the collapse in SNP vote and representation in the UK parliament. Labour surged in Scotland.

But all is not lost. The goings on at the SNP have not had much impact on support for Scottish independence, which runs at about 40%. This is not enough to win a referendum, but it is weighted towards younger voters, promising a majority in future. And the SNP has no serious rival in its leadership of the independence movement. The attempt by former leader (the late) Alec Salmond to establish a rival party was a dismal failure. Meanwhile Labour’s hapless start in government has wounded its main rival for votes north of the border, while the Conservatives remain weak, and Reform UK lacks the punch it has in England or Wales.

But the party must pose deep questions to itself. Politics has changed. The Scottish political elite has converged around a social democratic consensus. A big inspiration seems to have been the social democratic governments in Scandinavia – countries which, after all, are comparable in size to Scotland. While social democrats have been in retreat in England (and Wales), they assumed Scotland was different. The country produced a Remain majority in the EU referendum after all. But the whole world is moving against the social democratic – liberal – left consensus, including in Scandinavia. Immigration has become a top political issue. Gender-critical views, rejecting the extremes represented by Scotland’s self-identification laws, are mainstream. People are becoming wary of minority identity politics. A rising dependency ratio means that people question state benefits. Tax rises are resisted. Scotland can no more escape these trends than Scandinavia, where populist parties have been doing well. And more conservative views within the SNP, represented by leadership challenger Kate Forbes, are becoming more visible. Indeed Ms Forbes is clearly the most dynamic of the party’s senior politicians.

The question for the SNP is how far it follows these trends, and adopts Ireland as its model rather than Denmark or Sweden. Low taxes and a weaker welfare state are core to politics there. So far it has managed to scoop up the anti-establishment vote, by virtue of its support for independence, alongside more mainstream supporters. This could easily fray, with the Conservatives and/or Reform picking up support.

The current leader, John Swinney, is one of the party’s elders, and looks like a stopgap before the party takes its next bold steps. He will doubtless try to pick up disillusioned Labour voters while ignoring the conservative threat. I don’t think this will work, although it could lead to a messy result at the next Scottish election, whereby no majority can be formed without either the SNP or the conservatives.

The SNP would surely be better off if Mr Swinney stepped back, and let Ms Forbes take the reins. The left is in retreat, and the SNP needs to recognise that.

Reasons to be cheerful

Copilot does “Light at the end of the tunnel”

The human brain seems hard-wired to pessimism – often called realism.  There is indeed much to gloomy or worried about at the moment. Quite a bit of it is talked up here: don’t get me started on the subject of economic growth! But it is always helpful to challenge oneself, and in this season of good cheer, I thought I would give it a go. So here are five things that give me hope.

1. Solar Power

Solar panels are a truly transformative technology, in ways that we are only slowly starting to appreciate. It is a distributed technology, which requires little infrastructure of itself (though of course to transport its output large distances does require substantial investment). It doesn’t require much maintenance once installed, as there are few moving parts.  It reduces marginal costs of energy to very little. And advances in battery technology make its one major drawback – that it only produces when there is sunlight – much more manageable. It is an economic proposition that fossils fuels are finding it harder and harder to compete with. Thanks to these technologies China is already ahead of its decarbonisation goals. It is indeed thanks to China that the technological advance has been so swift. It is the underlying economics of solar power that makes decarbonisation a feasible proposition, and one that is developing its own momentum. Wind power has some of the same features, but many more difficulties. We should not be placing tariffs on Chinese exports of solar panels or batteries, but saying “thank you very much” and importing all that they can produce. Domestic production will catch up in time.

2. The bad guys can’t deliver

Our modern era is sometimes compared to the 1920s and 1930s, which saw the rise of the Nazis, Fascists and Stalinism. The rise of the far-right today is often compared to these movements. But the context is very different. Then there was much unused economic potential, thanks to misguided (as we now see it) conservative economic policies, and industrial technology that provided a ready and highly productive use for relatively unskilled labour – and much untapped demand for that technology’s output. Fascist regimes could readily produce dramatic economic results by unleashing infrastructure investment programmes – and even by building up armed forces. This would come to be called “Keynesian economics”. The results gave these regimes popular legitimacy. This was especially dramatic in Germany and helped Naziism to become an embedded ideology. No such opportunity exists in the 2020s. Advanced technology does not produce lots of new jobs – or not of the right sort. Labour markets are already quite tight, so that expansionary fiscal policies, and excessive military spending, produces inflation, and not lower unemployment. Instead, the policies of today’s near-fascists result in cronyism, corruption, inflation and general underperformance. That undermines their legitimacy.

Playing for the biggest fall is Vladimir Putin’s Russia, however much he manages to achieve in Ukraine. Russia has a massive demographic problem, with a very low birth rate. The war is making that much worse. Mr Putin’s obsession with pollical control is resulting in cronyism and the suppression of initiative: this is not good for economic efficiency – while sanctions arising from the war reduce Russia’s options. Instead, Russia is heavily dependent on hydrocarbons. See 1. above. Events in Syria show how quickly an excessively tyrannical regime can crumble – and shares elements with the fall of the Soviet regime. 

I hesitate to call China evil in the same way as Russia. Its leadership is much more able, and recognises the need to keep corruption in check and for economic efficiency. It has some impressive achievements to its name (see 1. above). But it remains an imperialist power, and actively tries to undermine the West. It too has a demographic problem, and it is finding that an obsession with political control comes with increasing costs. It does not present a shining alternative to western ways, as it once thought it did. 

3. Information technology

I am thoroughly sick of the hyping of artificial intelligence (AI), and the way it is crowbarred into any topic you care to name. But it is part of an astonishing development of information technology that will transform our lives in ways that we barely understand. I don’t think it translates into increased productivity in the smooth way that some talk of. As with most technologies it will have to change the way we work and think about things before it will have a real impact. But it should improve economic efficiency and human wellbeing in the longer run. My hope is that it will make some of the public service challenges developed countries face more tractable, reducing the pressure on government finances.

4. The developing world

A lot of the progress made by the developed world in the later part of the 20th Century and the first years of the 21st comes down to the opportunities provided by less developed countries in East Asia. As these countries developed their economies, they presented trading opportunities and gains from trade with the developed world. This has run its course, and has actually gone into reverse, as East Asian economies converge with developed world ones (and in some cases have joined that developed world), reducing trade gains (a process which, of course, has been enormously beneficial to those East Asian economies). This has been a regular hobby horse of mine as this piece of basic economics is so widely under-appreciated, even by economists who should know better. And yet there remain two large areas of the less developed world which have yet to advance properly: South Asia (notably India) and Africa. Might not the development of these economies provide further opportunities for mutual benefit?

This is far from straightforward. The East Asian model saw the transfer of workers from subsistence agriculture to manufacturing industry, mass producing consumer products for export, in exchange for a different suite of products and services from the developed world. That model is surely done. Manufacturing technology is so advanced that there are too few jobs at stake, and the developed world’s appetite for “stuff” is surely approaching saturation – although we should remember that potential markets include those East Asian economies, including China, too. To advance, the South Asian and African economies must move the workforce out of agriculture. India has made important strides, but has yet to seriously tackle agricultural reform. But what should surplus agricultural workers do?  Here I’m struggling a bit, but I’m sure that 1. and 3. above are part of the solution. It may be that their development will be less dependent on exports. At the moment, their biggest economic impact arises from the export of labour though emigration, affecting Europe and the Middle East in particular (also America, where immigrants also come from Latin America – which is less of a development opportunity). This has mutual benefits but the stresses in host countries are showing, and this is not sustainable in the longer term. 

Of course this effort must be led by the developing countries themselves, and not as part of a paternalist relationship with the developed world – as the East Asian progress owed little to the West except in the cold, hard mutual benefits of trade. There is a lot of baggage here but it is in the developed countries’ interests if they are to take their people out of poverty.

5. Liberal values become world values

I’m on fairly safe ground on the first three of my choices; number 4 is a bit shaky. This one is a bit of outrageous optimism. The later 20th Century was a post-colonialist age. Colonialism by the big European powers was pretty much over, though colonialism in Asia by Russia and China lived on. But the pall of colonialism hung over those European powers and still dominated political narratives. Newly independent nations blamed all their ills on their colonial past, and sought compensation in some form or other from the former colonists. They adapted the narrative somewhat to put pressure on the USA too as some sort of “neo-imperialist”. Meanwhile the developed world – the Western powers, consisting largely of those ex-colonisers, espoused liberal values as being universal ones, and criticised others when they fell short. These two narratives got tangled up, and many less developed countries accused developed countries of imposing alien values to their own advantage, and accused them of racism on top.

This all has another narrative: the West remained extremely powerful after decolonisation, and even more so once it had seen off its Communist rival the Soviet Union. Developing countries needed to plead their case to get aid and assistance; the Western powers never let their liberal values get in the way of self-interest, leading to accusations of hypocrisy that were often justified. Then some of these developing nations became more powerful. China worked its way into superpower status (in large part through trade with the West); other countries, like Iran, became more assertive. The anti-liberal movement gained momentum. Liberal values were Western values, and were a new way of promoting a kind of moral colonialism.

The result was ugly. The number of oppressive regimes grew. Medium-sized powers felt free to interfere in regional affairs, allowing a series of awful civil wars to take root. Western liberals feel beleaguered. And they are criticised at home, by conservatives who are fed up with what they see as the trashing of their countries’ history and culture; and by the left who promote anti-colonialist attitudes, and indulge in identity policies among minority communities that would not be tolerated by those minorities if they were in the majority..

And yet the West’s critics still look to the West for leadership in such matters as combatting climate change. “It’s your fault,” they suggest, “so you fix it.” China, by now the biggest contributor to world pollution and climate change sits idly by, though at least they are developing post-carbon technologies – see 1. above. India persists in its victim mentality, apparently unable to see that with a billion people they can’t just complain from the sidelines.

But this is breaking down. The rise of the populists, and especially Donald Trump, means that the West is retreating from its leadership role. And yet the West still looks to be one of the best places to live in the world. Few would say that of China – and especially if you don’t happen to be Han Chinese. And problems such as climate change change and civil wars rage on, with less developed countries as their main victims. This is creating something of a leadership vacuum, which the less developed countries need to fill. And their favoured narratives are losing traction. East Asian countries that have transitioned to developed status did this largely through their own efforts, assisted by free trade with the developed world. They had to move on from the victim mentality and take on proper agency of their own. It is not that African and south Asian countries are necessarily wrong about the damage of colonialism and slavery, but that their obsessing about this is no basis for building a prosperous future.

Meanwhile Western values and the moral high ground don’t look so bad. Capitalism has proved to be the only viable route to prosperity. The cynicism of non-Western powers, like China and Iran, to say nothing of Russia, is very evident, and has hardly promoted world peace. They are not creating great places to live (even if China’s progress must be acknowledged, it compares unfavourably with places like Taiwan). China may be free of Western hypocrisy, but that just leaves its naked self-interest unvarnished – as it develops its very own brand of hypocrisy. Western values really do have a universal application.

This would be good news because if we see a better quality of leadership from non-Western countries, then global problems will become more tractable. They will push forward harder on de-carbonisation, starting at home; they will be less free about arming rebel movements among their neighbours. A bit more humility on the part of Western countries would certainly be appropriate, but people being what they are, that will not be forthcoming.

When reflecting on this I am reminded of one of the courses I studied in my final year at Cambridge, when I was studying history. It was on the philosophy of international relations and led by Professor Harry Hinsley. How do you achieve peaceful international relations? One line of argument suggested that you needed a dominant power to act as a sort of policeman. Another suggested that you needed an empowered supra-national authority. The first is an uninviting prospect, the second is clearly infeasible, and leads to the problem of how that world authority is to be accountable. A more hopeful idea is that if the world was divided into autonomous nations, whose sovereignty ended at agreed borders, then those countries would learn to live with each other out of self-interest. This was in effect the system that Europe developed after the Seven Years War in 1763. Europe didn’t banish war, but the periods of peaceful relations lasted longer than before. The problem was that wars become harder to stop once started. I would like to think that the medium-sized nations of the world – Turkey, Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Iran, Israel in particular – will start to learn this lesson. Also that the newer great powers – China and India – will realise that they must play a bigger leadership role if world problems are to be tractable. And that neo-imperialist powers, Russia and to a lesser extent China, realise the futility of their enterprise and start to focus on the real needs of their populations. None of this necessarily involves embracing liberalism – but somehow I feel that it leads there.

Hope springs eternal

Good news tends to happen slowly and it isn’t newsworthy. But there is no denying that the world is entering a rough patch. Economic growth has run out of road in the developed world – as at last even the FT’s Martin Wolf is starting to appreciate. He says that this is causing the current political dysfunction, but it’s worse than that. The US is widely admired for delivering the best growth story, and yet the dysfunction is as bad there as anywhere. Actually the changes required to generate growth are as painful as trying to live without it. But the march of technology and scientific understanding goes on – and we don’t need conventionally understood economic growth for the world to become a better place. Think of a place where people don’t consume any more on average in developed countries (though with a more equal distribution), but who live longer, healthier lives, and where there is much less crime. A world where greenhouse gases in the atmosphere are steadily being reduced, where extreme poverty is being pushed back, and which is not so blighted by armed conflict. Apart from the beating back of poverty, none of these things needs economic growth – and the growth required to combat poverty is required only in less developed countries. This advance can be ecologically sustainable. I have not lost hope that the world can get much closer to such a vision.

The Green Party needs to move away from the radical left

Another clichéd but copyright free image from Copilot

My survey of the British political parties moves on to the Green Party. The Greens had their most successful general election by far in July, winning four seats – they have had only one since 2005. And given the fragile nature of British politics, where small percentage shifts can change election results dramatically, the party is at its most influential on political events. Let’s look at them through the traditional SWOT framework, much beloved of professional facilitators.

Strengths

The Greens’ biggest strength is that they have a strong political brand. Everybody thinks they know what the party in general stands for: protection of the environment, sustainability and action against greenhouse gases. As a Liberal Democrat activist, I know this well: my party’s brand is much weaker. In local elections where neither party did much work, the Greens would regularly beat us. The Greens could put out dense, unreadable literature and it didn’t matter. People got the message that the Greens were active locally: they already knew what they were for. The party now regularly beats the Lib Dems in London Assembly elections, fought on proportional representation, where brand is critical, as it is so hard to communicate directly with so many voters. Meanwhile, environmental threats, and especially climate change, are so palpable that the brand has the power to resonate with the public.

A second strength is that the party has built up a bit of a local base of activists in swathes of the country. This has allowed them to succeed in Brighton, win a council in Suffolk, and parliamentary seats in both these places and in Bristol and Herefordshire too. This base seems to have two main sources: rural environmental campaigners (Suffolk and Herefordshire), and metropolitan left-wingers (Brighton and Bristol). All successful political parties are coalitions, so the fact that these groups are quite different is not a bad sign of itself.

Weaknesses

Alas both these strengths have a flip side. The brand is strong, but it also has a negative aspect, which currently restricts the party’s strength. Not everybody is comfortable with their environmentalism, and they can get associated with ideological extremism – which puts a lot of people off.

Likewise, though the party has areas of geographical strength, these are quite localised. It is not a mass movement represented in all of the country. Four seats is a good result for them, but they are along way from dozens of seats – much further than their rival lesser parties – the Lib Dems (who are already there) and Reform UK.

A third weakness is that their culture militates against disciplined, effective organisation. They insist on having two co-leaders, for example. While their strong brand allows them to pick up a proportion of voters easily, organising themselves to run campaigns to do more than this has been a struggle for them – more so than for the Lib Dems who make this transition much more easily.

Opportunities

The party’s biggest opportunity is that the Labour Party lacks challengers to its left, while angering left-inclined supporters. This feels not unlike the Liberal Democrats during the last Labour government (1997 to 2010), a period when they had a high vote share and won over 50 seats in three successive elections. They had a similar mix of rural and metropolitan support. Nowadays the Lib Dems are more focused on challenging the Conservatives than Labour, as they are their rivals in all but a handful of their seats (and the SNP most of the rest).

There is a rural opportunity too. The government has shown it is happy to face down rural opposition to its plans. To be clear, Labour doesn’t dislike rural communities, but it is happy to see a degree of collateral damage in their pursuit housing targets, green infrastructure and rich tax avoiders. This is a more competitive market though: Conservatives, Lib Dems and Reform all have a case to make too. But where the Greens are already strong in rural areas, they have the opportunity to advance further.

Threats

One threat to the Greens is the Lib Dems. The overlap between the parties is striking – in the priority given to the environment, and in generally socially liberal attitudes. Prior to this year’s election, though, they conspired to largely keep out of each other’s way – though there were no formal deals. There was just a mutual understanding that if they fought each other too hard, then the benefit would be to the Tories. But the Lib Dems parliamentary success has given them renewed confidence to challenge the Greens, especially in rural areas (like where I live in Sussex). Where the Lib Dems have established themselves they are generally better organised and better disciplined, and the momentum given to their party by success in July will also give them public credibility. The Greens should be able to handle this easily enough where they are already strong, but expanding this base will be harder. The Greens are probably less threatened in metropolitan areas, though, even where the Lib Dems used to be strong.

Perhaps a bigger threat is the party’s attachment to far-left politics. This is great for picking off disillusioned Labour supporters, but it runs against the political zeitgeist, where younger, ethnic minority and working class voters are increasingly put off by leftwing identity politics. These voters are starting to feel that the left doesn’t really care about the mundane issues of jobs and cost of living. Three areas stand out. The first is leftwing protests over Gaza, which the Greens have been strongly supportive of – actively seeking votes from Muslim communities. A second is the Just Stop Oil protests, which have periodically disrupted traffic or damaged works of art. These are separate from the Green Party, but that might not be so clear to voters. A third is the clash between “gender critical” activists and supporters of trans rights.

This last may not bother ordinary voters so much, but it poses a threat of a different sort. Under an employment tribunal case in 2021 it was established that gender critical views (i.e. people who say that birth is fixed from birth and cannot be re-assigned) are protected under the Equality Act. This is a very dangerous ruling for parties where the prevailing attitude that is gender critical views are not far off in kind to white supremicist ones. The Greens, along with Labour the Lib Dems and the SNP are struggling with this. But the pragmatic streak in each of the other parties makes it easier for them to make adjustments. Not making adjustments exposes parties to legal cases and substantial costs as both the Greens (being fined £90,000 in September) and the Lib Dems (who recently conceded a court case and may attract a similar fine, never mind legal costs) have already found. I don’t know how close the Greens are to making the necessary adjustments, but Trans supporters can be very militant, so this will be a struggle.

Conclusion

Green parties elsewhere in Europe have seen a struggle between “realists” and “fundamentalists”. It is the latter that give these parties so much of their energy and drive, but political advancement, and especially participation in government, requires a more pragmatic approach. Indeed environmental action will only succeed when it becomes quotidian – so widely accepted that people automatically assume that it is in their self-interest. Greens must either become more quotidian themselves or be left on the political margins. Such is the choice facing the Green parties in Britain.

Is America having a Brexit moment?

Another AI image from Copilot

In my last post on the US election, I forecast victory for Donald Trump. That was just before Joe Biden stood down – which happened within hours. In a postscript I suggested that the economy and immigration would still swing the election for Mr Trump. So it proved, though as I watched Mr Trump melt down in the first months of Kamala Harris’s candidacy, I thought she might do it – even comfortably. But then Mr Trump’s campaign stabilised, and returned to consistently hammering the points that would swing voters, and he won comfortably. I thought Ms Harris fought a good campaign in the circumstances, but she had no answer on those two critical themes.

And so an earthquake has hit US politics. Mr Trump is much better organised than he was in 2016, and his personnel changes in the American state will be more sweeping. Meanwhile the complacency of the Democrats after beating him in 2020 has been badly exposed: there will surely be something of a clearout on their side. I don’t go along with the idea that this is the most consequential election of our times (which could be applied to 2016, 2020 or 2028 with equal merit) – but the changes will be drastic. To me it evokes nothing more than that what we experienced in Britain after the Brexit referendum in 2016.

Of course 2016 was when Mr Trump was first elected, and we thought that was a Brexit moment too. But his first administration descended into muddle and was reversed in 2020. The equivalent of the first phase of Brexit happened – the chaos after the referendum result as the country turned rudderless, but not the second – which started with Boris Johnson’s landslide election victory in December 2019. It is the equivalent of that second phase that is starting now in America. At first Mr Johnson’s election victory overawed everybody. His supporters projected their favoured outcomes onto the result, and there was much hubris, as his opponents retreated to lick their wounds.

The similarities between Mr Johnson and Mr Trump are striking. Both won by making a series of impossible promises and relying on humour and bluster to persuade voters to give them the benefit of the doubt. Both are personally quite transparent – what you see is what you get – giving a feeling of authenticity compared to other politicians. Both favour loyalty among their choices for political office over competence. They even both have brought in highly intelligent mavericks to spice up their administrations (Dominic Cummings in Britain, Elon Musk in America). It did not go well for Mr Johnson: his chaotic regime collapsed in not much over two years, getting himself replaced by an ideologue who destroyed what was left of his party’s reputation (Liz Truss) – a mess that his eventual successor, the lightweight Rishi Sunak could do nothing to reverse. It was the most spectacular reversal of political fortunes in British history. Will this history repeat? A chaotic regime which results in Mr Trump bowing out prematurely, followed by an even more disastrous lightweight ideologue (JD Vance)?

Maybe. But we need to think about the differences between the two situations. Firstly the two men. Mr Johnson is by far Mr Trump’s intellectual superior, but he had little organisational experience. He couldn’t run a whelk stall, in the British expression. Mr Trump is an experienced businessman, who certainly could run a whelk stall (“the best whelk stall in all the world”), even if his track record is nothing like as good as he says it is. He may not be particularly intelligent in the normally accepted (left-brained) sense, but he has drive, stamina, confidence and intuition that make him very effective in his own way. His management style is chaotic, but there is more method to his chaos than with Mr Johnson, and he is more adept at blaming others if anything goes wrong (Mr Johnson did this too, but without the same chutzpah). And America’s president is far more entrenched constitutionally than Britain’s prime minister, who is at the mercy of parliament. Mr Trump thrives on attention and status, which the job of US president delivers more than any other – it is hard to see him voluntarily letting go. This would take some sort of physical health issue – though this is a clear risk at his age.

But there are going to be problems. His administration will be peopled by chancers and mavericks, who will under-deliver. That happened last time, though in a different way to what is likely to happen this. In the short term I see this as doing little political damage to him though. There will be ethical issues galore – but (unlike for Mr Johnson) these have little capacity to damage him. Failure to deliver on practically anything doomed Mr Johnson and his successors (even Brexit had a big flaw in Northern Ireland); Mr Trump’s downfall is likely to be over-delivery. Mr Trump has made three major policy promises: the mass deportation of irregular immigrants; the raising of tariffs; and reducing taxes. Even partial delivery on these promises will make America worse off. They might have longer term economic benefits (though I’m a sceptic) but these will not come through in time.

It is very hard to see how Mr Trump’s deportation strategy will unfold – it is so unprecedented. But he has laid huge store on it. At a minimum it will create huge uncertainty in the country’s labour markets, and surely many labour shortages. He may try to releive the shortages by relaxing legal immigration, though this looks politically suicidal, but that won’t happen without massive disruption. This disruption will lead to inflation – with the highly sensitive area of food prices looking especially vulnerable. Inflation was the economic event that did most damage to Mr Biden’s reputation, and it will upset many of those that voted for him on the basis of his supposed economic competence.

Something similar will happen on tariffs. These are so obviously harmful that many of Mr Trump’s business backers assume that his policy is simply a negotiating tactic. Nothing, it seems, will dampen their wild optimism, reflected in a stock market rally. But tariffs are central to Mr Trump’s economic outlook. He appears to think that they will be costless to consumers, and raise revenue with which he can cut income taxes. Besides, it is surely hard to negotiate the kind of change to the terms in trade that he so wants. High tariffs will raise the prices of imported products and so inflation. This may not be as disastrous for America as it would be for some others, like Britain, who depend more on trade. But if prices are already going up because his migrant policy has disrupted labour markets, it doesn’t look good.

And then there are tax cuts. Many of Mr Trump’s business supporters set huge store on these, but there is a real problem with the country’s already-huge budget deficit. Adding to this deficit will be inflationary – one of the things that undid Mr Biden. His regime may want to balance this through drastic cuts to public spending (though not to defence), but there is not enough beureaucratics waste, wokery and foreign aid to deliver anything like enough – which would find him cutting into entitlements such as pensions (social security) and medical schemes. That won’t be an easy sell.

All three of Mr Trump’s main economic policy ideas point to inflation and administrative chaos. This will create stormy seas quite unlike his first administration. This is another difference from Brexit, which has proved to be a slow bleed rather than the big dislocation that some predicted. With his regime’s reputation for economic competence shattered there is liable to be a big backlash.

That should be an opportunity for the Democrats – just as Mr Johnson’s collapse was an opportunity for Labour in Britain. It is also possible that a different strand of populist radicalism emerges from the Republican side to take over. Meanwhile in the wider world, the retreat of America from its leadership position will force others to step up. There will be too much collateral damage for this to be a nice thing to watch – but it will be fascinating if you can see beyond that.