Category: Politics UK

Reflections on general political developments and ideas in the UK

The British Left needs to moderate its obsession with austerity

I’m not reviewing this book, but title reveal the left’s attitude to austerity

As a Liberal Democrat I’m often described as being on the political left. One word shows that this is far from true: “austerity”. To people on the left, especially in Britain, this word brings up a visceral reaction. To them austerity is the quintessence of evil: the crushing of all attempts to promote the public good, perpetrated by a brutal government out to protect the interests of the rich. But to me austerity is a government policy that is often necessary – and is part of a healthy tension that keeps the state efficient. Still, I always like to understand the arguments of people I disagree with, and when I saw a link on my New Statesman email to an article by William Davies entitled Fascism’s liberal admirers, I thought I’d take look. The sub-title was Austerity is a fiction designed to uphold capitalism – and it has a dark history. The pretext (I would not call the article a review) for the was a book by Clara Mattei called The Capital Order – How economists invented austerity and paved the way to Fascism. The subheadings demonstrate what I mean about the left’s attitude.

Which is why I was expecting a lot of nonsense – and by and large that is where the article ended up. But along the way it constructed a narrative that was fr from nonsense. The book is about the rise of Fascism, and how the pre-Fascist government in Italy in the 1920s was being pressured by Britain (as a creditor nation) to adopt austerity policies. The British ruling establishment had taken on the austerity narrative after the First World War, and was delighted when the Fascists in Italy followed through with these policies after they took power. Ms Mattei’s and Mr Davies’s point is that this narrative came about as a reaction to a socialist narrative that the success of war economies showed that there was an alternative to market capitalism, with economies led by, and substantially owned by, the state. Revolution was in the air. The capitalists needed to stamp this thinking out, and they aggressively promoted pro-market policies and a rolling back of state intervention. It was not a narrative based on economic necessity, but one developed to protect vested interests. It is but a short step for Mr Davies to suggest that this is what has been happening in the 21st century, following the financial crash of 2008, and now – with the fall of the Liz Truss government. That, historically, support for austerity led capitalists to embrace Fascism shows how they will turn on democracy to protect their interests, and economics is just camouflage. The fight against austerity is the fight to preserve democracy.

There’s something in this. Pretty much all economic policy, whether capitalist, socialist or anything else, is a conspiracy of vested interests: people try to persuade the public at large that their ideas are for the public good, using any argument that they think might gain traction, spurious or otherwise. That is how large, complex societies get anything done. Truth is incidental. And, though I’m not an expert, I think that the British ruling establishment over-reacted to the prospect of more socialist ways of working in the 1920s, and their arguments in support of the package of policies that Mr Davies calls “austerity” do not stand the test of time (though economies in the 1920s swiftly moved to growth after austerity – and it was not until the depression of the 1930s that the narrative seriously came to be questioned). After all they did something quite different after the next war, and capitalism (and wider society too) has never flourished more. It is a stretch to say that the same applies to 21st century episodes of austerity in Britain and the Eurozone, but there is a case to answer. Many of the justifications put up by the supporters of austerity policies were nonsense. So if you want to believe that austerity is always and everywhere economic nonsense promoted by self-interest, you will always find plenty of evidence. That is the insight I gained by the article. Evidence, but not proof.

The resources required to make an economy work are always limited. The bottom line is that economic policy will always be limited by resources, and that the more efficiently those resources are used, the more successful an economy will be. There are times when it pays a government to spend money to do things that are useless. Keynes wrote of getting people to dig holes and fill them in again; Hitler ramped up spending on armaments. That is when the economy is running slack and needs pump-priming. The people digging holes or making tanks spend their wages buying other things, creating a virtuous circle of job creation. Austerity is a bad idea at such times. But when the economy is running at close to capacity, or overheating (as is the case in most developed economies in 2022) then that logic disappears. If anybody, anywhere is employed doing things that don’t enhance society, it is means that the economy is running less efficiently than it should. If the government is running inefficiently, then austerity policies can be justified to cut waste, and move people from doing useless things in the public sector to being more useful in the private one. That is the basic intellectual case for austerity. And it is why governments of all economic stripes, capitalist and otherwise, will often carry out austerity policies. For example, Cuba’s socialist government after Soviet subsidies were withdrawn in the 1990s.

It goes deeper. All human organisations have a tendency to become complacent, and settle into inefficient ways of working to minimise internal conflict. In private enterprise this tendency is tempered by the need to compete, and by downturns in the business cycle. I well remember this from my work days. Things would seem to be going well, and then there would be a crisis. Savings had to be made, usually, eventually, entailing job losses. Workers were disappointed and often angry; but the overall effect of this stop-start was a more healthy, efficient and focused organisation. Some good things might be lost in the process, but that was outweighed by the reduction in waste and follies curtailed. The public sector is generally insulated from such commercial pressures, and so has an even greater tendency to become inefficient. Bouts of austerity act as a check on this, and force managers to focus on what needs to be done – though they won’t thank you for it.

But the timing is often difficult to decide. It is not always easy to tell if an economy is running slack or close to capacity. There is an argument to be had about that in Britain in the 2010s. But the real problems happen over resources transferred between countries. Economies are often sustained by using resources provided by other countries. But this creates international obligations – as well as the temptation to profligacy. If people in one country supply resources to people in another one, they do so because they expect to be repaid in some shape or form, usually profitably. If it turns out that poor economic management (or any other problem) puts the repayment in jeopardy, then the creditor countries will often insist on austerity. This is not always the right thing to do, but the basic premise that the debtor country is consuming more resources than it is producing, and needs to adjust to something more sustainable. This can be a capitalist conspiracy, but it doesn’t have to be. The politics around it get messy with truth, as usual, a casualty; creditors accuse debtors of profligacy – debtors accuse creditors of gratuitous cruelty. Some governments practice austerity simply to prevent getting into this sort of situation – the socialist president of Mexico, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, is an exemplar of this.

All this is common sense. Austerity – and this is best understood as cuts to government spending, rather than raising taxes – can simply be about the management of finite resources in a changeable environment, and doesn’t have to be ideological. So why do the British left react so violently to the idea? I’m not sure how deep the history goes. The New Labour of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown of the mid-1990s embraced austerity, but they were hardly of the left – but the left seemed happy enough to keep in tow. I think the issue originated from the coalition government of 2010. In the five or so years before this, the state payroll, direct and indirect, had expanded considerably. Many parts of the state had become very inefficient. At the time I could see this in both education (I was a school governor) and health (I was following health affairs closely, as I was looking for a job there). In both areas I could see over-complicated management structures and performance grids, and lightweight policies implemented to placate some lobbyist or other. Capital funding was tied to a bidding process that required the use of consultants on both sides. The bidding process was a matter of verbiage – the trick being to find the right trigger phrases. I read my borough’s bid for primary school expansion (which was successful), and it seemed to carefully saying nothing at all – but it was the work of many senior people, with external advice. In the NHS, funding was driven by something called “World Class Commissioning” – a vastly over-engineered superstructure designed to provide employment to consultants and middle managers. I could go on. The writing was already on the wall before Labour lost the election of 2010, as the crash put government finances under strain, but the government had been slow to apply austerity. Not so the incoming Conservative-Lib Dem coalition. They put in place a vicious programme of spending cuts. Suddenly a whole class of public sector employee found their livelihood at risk – and worse, political leaders were suggesting that their endeavours had all been a waste of time. That triggered an angry backlash. And just as the right tends to be controlled by the interests of capitalists, the left tends to be controlled by the interests of state employees.

By and large the angry people were university graduates trained to look for abstract principles to make sense of events. So instead of just protesting against the concrete adverse effects of particular cuts, they spied an abstract idea to focus their anger on: austerity. Austerity was evil; the cuts were not necessary but ideological. Many economists criticised the cuts as excessive, causing a needless recession and economic wasted resources – and this was seized on as evidence of the evils of austerity. As this line of thinking developed in the usual echo-chambers of social media and friendly journals, it morphed into the idea that austerity is always and everywhere evil. Mr Davies’s article shows how entrenched that thinking remains.

And that is a problem. The left seeks to achieve political power, and to do so democratically they must persuade people that they can be trusted. But most people’s attitude to austerity is pragmatic: sometimes it is required. Most people probably have their own hobby horse of perceived government waste that austerity could be used to sort out – though there will be no general agreement on what these actually are. A class of politicians that cannot let the idea that austerity can ever be justified pass their lips are going to find it very hard to win that trust. And yet it is more than easy to campaign convincingly against specific cuts – at a time when so many public services are wilting under pressure, and the public safety net is obviously inadequate in many places. The politically sensible thing to do is to allow for austerity in theory, but oppose it in the here and now: or to follow the example of Gordon Brown who advocated austerity in the mid 1990s, but once in power and having established public trust, launched the expansion of the British state.

The left are part of the Labour Party, but do not control it. The Labour leadership understand well enough the politics of all this. Polls show that they are maintaining credibility on economic management. The left’s obsession with austerity in the abstract undermines their political influence. Which means the advocacy of any good ideas they have is weakened. In a world when many long-held beliefs are being challenged, the left should challenge this shibboleth.

What does a high-wage economy actually mean?

Labour shortages mean that the pay of refuse workers is advancing

It turns out that the leaders of Britain’s Conservative and Labour parties agree on quite a lot. The latter, Sir Keir Starmer, gave a quite a weighty speech to the Confederation of British Industry this week – which did much to help his gravitas as prime-minister-in-waiting. What has drawn most attention is his opposition to excessive immigration (not clearly defined, of course) and commitment to making Britain a high-wage, high-productivity economy. This was one of the main planks of Tory policy in at least the last two general elections, and still is – in contrast to integration with the European Union’s labour and product markets. Many in the CBI want a more flexible approach to immigration (to say nothing of more integration with the EU) – but they weren’t getting it from either leader.

The politics are obvious. Immigration is a touchstone issue in Britain, as it is in much of the world. The public thinks that the ruling elite were too relaxed about immigration and this was one of the main factors behind the populist backlash of the last decade, and the Brexit referendum result in particular. Labour are less trusted by the public on the issue, and so need to show a visibly firm line, or they won’t win back the voters that have deserted them since their last election victory in 2005. And the idea that choking off cheap labour from abroad will raise living standards is superficially plausible. In fact it was one of the more plausible claims made by the supporters of Brexit. And having done Brexit, I can understand how mainstream politicians feel the need to try and make the idea work.

But how does political necessity fare against reality? Most people seem to have very little idea of how the high-wage economy is actually supposed to work. It’s a bit like the “Australian-style points system” to manage immigration, which most people think is a jolly good idea, without having much clue about what it actually is, and how it compares to alternatives. The main target audience for economic policy ideas seems to be property-owning retired folk in the English North and Midlands (and in the English South and Wales, to be fair), who have little direct stake in a modern, functioning economy – which is all somebody else’s problem. Meanwhile they insist that there is “no room” for more immigrants – and fear that it erodes English national culture. There is therefore no particular need to explain the actual impacts of policy.

The overall economic theory is clear. If we can raise economic productivity, there is more money per head to go round to support higher wages. By choking off the supply of cheap labour from abroad, employers will be forced to use the available resources, i.e. local workers, more productively. There are two basic problems with this line of argument. The first is that higher income per head on average does not guarantee higher income for everybody. An imbalance of power in the labour market leads to high pay for the powerful at the expense of the powerless. The hope is that cutting immigration strengthens the bargaining power of less powerful. Academics argue about whether it is true – but it is not hard to find anecdotal evidence of just this. A shortage of lorry drivers following Brexit has recently driven up their pay – and with it incomes workers in related fields, like refuse collection. Still, we shouldn’t forget, as Tories sometimes do, that better wages depend on the bargaining power of workers.The second problem is that productivity is only part of the equation – the proportion of working people, or working hours per head of the total population, is critical too. In fact in a modern developed economy it is probably more important – and it has been falling due to demographic pressures, the propensity of older workers to retire on their savings, and (perhaps) lack of access to health care for longer term and mental conditions. Immigration raises the ratio of working people in the short and medium term – which is why so many people think it is a good idea.

Still, let’s put these problems aside, and try to imagine what a high-wage society looks like. It is in fact not too hard to find such societies. They are usually located in spots in the developed world with a low population density. These are often tourist hotspots and it is mainly as a tourist that I have visited them: in Australia, New Zealand, Western Canada, Norway and Switzerland. The first thing you notice is that there aren’t many workers. If you are on safari in Africa, you will get a tour guide and driver as a minimum. In Canada and Australia the same individual does both roles. Go into a shop and there are few people to serve you. And there aren’t many shops. At hotels you carry your own bags. You get something of the Tesco automated checkout phenomenon. Self-service amounts to higher productivity for Tesco, but all they are doing is making you do more work for yourself. An experienced cashier is much quicker. In a high-wage economy you may find yourself eating at home instead of at restaurants – or inviting friends for drinks at home rather than trying to find a bar. The cost of services involving human contact is relatively higher.

So where are the workers? Not so many in the tourist spots, though there will be people delivering high-end products or services at quite a cost. They are mostly somewhere else, delivering highly productive goods or services. In Australia and Canada there is mining; in Norway there is oil; in Switzerland there is sophisticated manufacturing (chemicals and such) and banking. These are linked to exports, so that high-wage countries tend to be high-exporting ones, usually running trade surpluses.

Here’s the key. Some gains to wages for the less well off can be made by reducing profits and cutting top-level pay. But not enough and not sustainably. A large proportion of workers need to be employed in highly productive fields. If businesses simply raised prices to pay for higher wages, we end up where we started by putting so many things out of the reach of less well-off workers. But high productivity industries in the modern era are very productive indeed. They don’t employ many workers and usually need exports to to be sustainable.

And so we can start to see the characteristics of a high-wage economy. Workers must have strong market bargaining power, generally by being in short supply. There must be a strong, highly productive core to the economy, generating a substantial export trade (overall trade doesn’t need to be in surplus in theory – though in practice this often seems to be the case). And most people will have to put up with doing more things for themselves, as the price of services is high – and especially in rural areas. Taxes are also likely to be quite high to to support public services such as health and education – as a strong state underpinning of these, and an effective social safety net, is all part of the ethos – and supports the strong bargaining position of workers generally.

In Britain the problem is obvious. Labour shortages are improving the bargaining position of workers. We are moving towards a self-service economy as these labour shortages sweep through the hospitality industry amongst others. But what of the highly productive core? Here we are faced with a fleet of ships that have sailed. Fossil fuels are depleted and anyway a problem in the zero-carbon future. The country’s manufacturing has been hollowed out – the trade deficit is of very long standing. Financial services provided a lot of punch in the earlier years of the 21st century, but are going through rough patch in the 2020s. Brexit is widely blamed, but in truth the problems are wider. A lot of the strength of the mid-noughties turned out to be fictional – and it was very centred on London. The country needs to look to the future, and not try to recreate old glories. Here the parties do differ a bit. There doesn’t seem to be a coherent Conservative strategy at all. Their basic idea is to create fruitful conditions for investment and sit back and wait. Liz Truss, Mr Sunak’s predecessor, did lend some coherence to this approach. She wanted to create a low-tax, low-regulation haven for footloose international businesses. This idea quickly collapsed, leaving Mr Sunak plying platitudes about innovation. His government looks increasingly paralysed by internal divisions and unable to implement any decisive strategy.

Labour’s big idea is the green economy (something promoted by the Lib Dems and Greens too). This entails a massive investment programme designed to transform the country’s infrastructure as well as develop export industries. This is a good idea, but a lot of the work involved (home insulation for example) is not high-productivity. And there is intense competition for the rest – batteries and wind turbines for example. Still, it doesn’t do to underestimate British inventiveness, and public-private partnerships in this area surely provide part of the answer. Also renewable energy does offer high productivity, without the need for exports. There are other ideas. I have often talked about health care and related services, where Britain has a promising base – and where the NHS offers world-class data for developing new treatments – as the covid episode showed.

But there is a gorilla in the room that the politicians don’t want to talk about. This isn’t Brexit (though they don’t want to talk about that either). This has created problems for developing export industries – but other EU members are further down the path of developing exports and British industries struggled to compete with them in the single market. Britain’s trading problems got worse within the EU, after all, even if there were compensations. The gorilla is public sector pay – especially if we include the issue of social care. High wages mean high levels of pay in the public sector. Not all public sector jobs are badly paid, but the pressure of a tight labour market is putting public services sector under pressure. Staffing shortages are rife in many parts of it. Meanwhile part of the government’s anti-inflation strategy is to hold back public sector real pay levels – which is making matters worse. The answer is either to shrink the public sector or to raise taxes. Of course the politicians hope that an explosion of high-productivity private sector jobs (with associated tax revenue) will come to their rescue. But it won’t happen in time, if it ever does.

This is a tough place to be in, so it’s no surprise that our politicians are slow to confront the truth of it. I have to admit that it is forcing me to rethink some of my assumptions. But I do think that the vision of a high-wage economy is worth pursuing. The main alternative being offered by those interested in social equity is a universal basic income paid by the state. I am deeply uncomfortable with that idea for a number of reasons. Given that, here are two things to be thinking about.

The first doesn’t involve any great rethinking on my part, but remains politically toxic. We need higher taxes. This is not just on various soft-spots and loop-holes in the wealthier parts of the economy – schemes that are predestined to disappoint. Higher taxes need to affect most people. This is because public spending will have to rise to accommodate higher public sector pay – and we need to manage down the level of demand in the rest of the economy to help stabilise it, to say nothing of limiting the need to borrow money on world markets. Of course public sector productivity can be improved (though I prefer the word “effectiveness” to “productivity” – as a lot of the solution is lowering demand by forestalling problems), reducing the need for spending. But our political class, our civil servants, and the commentators and think tankers that critique them, have almost no idea how to achieve this. They are stuck in an over-centralised, departmental mindset. What is needed is locally led, locally accountable, cross-functional, and client-centred services – an idea that is so alien to British political culture that most people can’t even imagine it. So we can’t count on that idea and must settle for replacing the dysfunctional with the merely mediocre, with no cost-saving.

The second idea is even more contentious, and I haven’t properly thought it through yet. It is that inflation is an essential part of the process of readjustment, and we have to tolerate it to a degree – provided that the source of that inflation is a rise in pay for the less well-off. As somebody who grew up in the 1970s, I hate inflation. I think it undermines trust between the state and the governed. I have never subscribed to the view of liberal economists that it can be a tool of economic management. But there have to be exceptions. One example was Ireland in the 2000s, as that country worked through its economic transformation as it integrated with the EU economy, which did involve a spurt in productivity. Wages rocketed, driving inflation up. Ireland was in the Euro, so there was no ability for the currency to appreciate to ameliorate the effect. This was the only way for the country to reach the sunlit uplands – which didn’t stop the European Central Bank from criticising it – something my economics lecturer at UCL said was absurd.

Britain’s position is different from Ireland’s. We haven’t had that productivity spurt. There is nothing to drive an appreciation of the currency. But we want wages amongst the less well-off to rise. Price rises are part of the adjustment – with inflation acting as a tax on the wealthy, as part of a redistribution process. Meanwhile we need to drive capital investment – most renewable energy is very capital intensive, for example – as are most of the ideas for developing higher productivity. That means keeping interest rates low. Which won’t happen if interest rates are jacked up to combat inflation. And, as suggested already, to the extent that inflation needs to be managed, higher taxes are a better way to do it.

This is quite a progression in my personal thinking (and thank you to regular commenter Peter Martin for helping me along the way – though doubtless we still disagree). But trying to get to the fairer, more sustainable society we seek is going to require many of us to change our thinking – and put up with some things we don’t like.

Will pragmatism bring success to the Liberal Democrats?

Conservative party members showed little self-awareness this summer. Under their party’s rules they had the final say on who was to be their party leader, and, as they never tired of telling us, the next prime minister. The rest of the country was appalled that such a small, self-selected body of people was playing such a pivotal role in the country’s constitution. The leadership candidates then vied for members’ support by offering ever more crackpot ideas to appeal to their prejudices. And when the winner, Liz Truss, took over as prime minister, she treated her promises made to this small body of people as more important than the manifesto on which her parliamentary majority was based in December 2019. But amid all this self-indulgence another British political party has been rowing hard in the opposite direction by trying to make itself more relevant to the public at large. It is time to talk of the Liberal Democrats.

This follows the party’s own moment of self-indulgence in 2019. It’s then newly selected leader, Jo Swinson, decided to make the party’s raison d’être to act as a rallying point for the overturning of the 2016 referendum on Brexit. This was very popular with party members, encouraging Jo to take ever more radical positions on the subject. The party’s poll ratings climbed; it outpolled the other established political parties in elections to the European Parliament (but not, significantly, Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party). It attracted defectors from both Conservative and Labour parties. At the 2019 election Jo delighted party members by suggesting that the party would win the election outright. But in the grim reality of a general election campaign, as voters confronted the awkward choices before them, this self-indulgence stuck in their throats. The party offered no reconciliation to the half of the country still determined to complete Brexit, and simply promised to keep stoking up a debate that was tearing the country apart. The party’s poll ratings sank, resources were deployed on an electoral strategy that was far too optimistic, and the end result was a dismal 11 MPs, a net loss of one on the poor 2017 result. Losses included Jo Swinson’s own seat in Scotland.

This disaster prompted much soul-searching. One of the party’s most successful politicians, Dorothy Thornhill (serially directly-elected mayor of Watford), was asked to head a review of the party. Disclosure: I am secretary of the party’s audit and scrutiny committee which sponsored this review, and which continues to monitor the party’s response to it – but the views expressed here are very much my personal ones. The review was unsparing int its criticism of many aspects of the party’s management. It’s leading recommendation was as follows:

Based on the lives of ordinary people in the country today, create an inspiring, over-arching and compelling vision which can guide the entire Liberal Democrats organisation for the duration of a parliament, ideally longer.

The party, under its new leader, Ed Davey, has taken this recommendation seriously, and especially that first phrase. Whether the party’s current vision is yet inspiring, over-arching and compelling is open to question. But that it is grounded on the lives of “ordinary” people is not in doubt. The policies that are promoted to the public reflect the concerns of general voters, and not those of activists: the energy crisis, the outflow of raw sewage in rivers and beaches, and many more specific, local concerns. To this Ed has now added the rising cost of mortgages, and the difficulty of seeing a doctor. It is, unfortunately, hard to meld such everyday concerns into something inspiring, over-arching and compelling, but the party is trying. This causes no little frustration to many of the party’s activists and members. They are dying to make a big fuss over the failures of Brexit, for example, and push radical proposals for political reform. But generally voters don’t want to reopen the wounds of Brexit, and have yet to translate their frustration with the political system into demands for reform. A further example of the party’s sensitivity to “ordinary” people was the cancellation of the party’s autumn conference, which had been scheduled for just before the Queen’s funeral. This infuriated many activists, who had booked hotel accommodation and were looking forward to the first in-person conference since covid-19. But it would not have been a good look to the public at large. The counter offered to this by some activists, that the public wouldn’t notice, was hardly an encouraging one.

This was the only party conference to be lost to the Queen’s death. Other parties, large and small, benefited from the traditional extra publicity that arises from such events (though in the case of the Conservatives “benefit” is a stretch). Last weekend the party attempted to make up for this with a set-piece leaders’ speech from Ed – which was dutifully covered by the BBC and the more respectable newspapers. The coverage mainly focused on his proposal of a fund to assist stretched families to manage higher mortgage costs. I didn’t find the speech especially uplifting, but that may be because I am on old cynic, and I was watching it on a Monday morning. But it was coherent and competent. Ed clearly focused the party’s political strategy on winning parliamentary seats from the Conservatives, implicitly part of a coalition to end their time in power. Ed only mentioned other political parties in the context of local elections – where he made an attack on the SNP, but he resisted the temptation to attack Labour. He did make time to advocate proportional representation, but that was the only political reform that got a look in. It did not beat raw sewage in its prominence. Since the Labour leadership isn’t even going that far with political reform, we’ll have to accept that.

Is the party’s new approach working? Membership has plummeted since the heady days of 2019 and the party’s prominence in the Brexit debate. Reduced means stretches the party’s infrastructure, both paid staff and volunteers. But the party is winning elections again, including three spectacular gains in parliamentary elections. It is slowly rebuilding a local government base – but it is very patchy. The party consistently polls around the 10% mark – better than it has been, but short of the party’s heyday in the years 1997 to 2010. This too was a time when local electoral pragmatism trumped ideological vision – only for the party to collapse once it tried to use its electoral mandate by joining a coalition government.

Political vision is a tricky thing, especially in a political system such as Britain’s. Too much and the electoral coalitions needed for success fragment; too little and the party loses its way at the grassroots, which is central to party’s electoral successes. Under Ed Davy the Liberal Democrats are attempting a balancing act. The party is basing its campaigns mainly on issues that resonate with voters, especially those in Conservative-held areas; at the same time it is trying to manage expectations about what it might do after the election (i.e. potentially support a Labour-led government). Meanwhile the party still holds to its core beliefs, on openness, on the environment, and on the need for political reform. This is a balancing act traditionally managed best by the Conservatives – until now.

There may be a path back for the Tories, but it’s a long shot

Photo: Chris McAndrew, CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

When Theresa May went to the country in the general election of 2017, she promoted herself under the slogan of “strong and stable”. Polls showed the Conservatives heading for a massive landslide. Polling day came a few weeks later, and the party lost its majority. British politics has not settled down since. The “strong and stable” label for the Tories has never looked less appropriate, though that won’t stop the party from trying to use a version of it again. Reliable predictions are impossible, but it’s still worth trying to get some idea about how things could develop from here.

When Boris Johnson won his landslide for the Conservatives in December 2019, it was commonplace to suggest that it would be impossible for Labour to come back to winning a majority in one go. I always thought that was nonsense – an example of the human cognitive bias towards the status quo. It was suggested that a turnaround on such a scale would be unprecedented. So what? Less than three years later under Liz Truss, Conservative polling plumbed to such depths as to suggest not only a Labour majority, but a landslide. Now she’s gone, and the dust has far from settled.

Slowly the poll ratings are coming back to the Tories, but the Labour lead remains massive. The new Conservative leader, Rishi Sunak, is regarded much more favourably than his predecessor by the public, especially on the critical area of economic competence. It is possible to sketch out a scenario whereby he manages to claw his party back to winning a majority at the next election. Economic competence is at the centre of such a scenario.

Now it is important to understand how the public perceives economic competence. It has little to do with actual competence. The critical signs for the public are keeping a tight reign on public spending, and also for the economy not to be subject to dramatic adverse changes. Economic growth does not count for as much as many people seem to think. The bedrock of Tory support is retired. They have paid off their mortgages, have substantial value in their houses, and receive reasonably secure pension income, some of it from the state. They don’t like higher taxes because their income is relatively fixed. But unemployment, higher interest rates, and so on hurt them little. They shrugged at warnings that Brexit would damage the economy, and still do, even as many of the warnings are being realised. They are for economic growth in theory, but against just about any policy that will bring it about. There aren’t enough such people to produce a winning majority, but without them, or a substantial majority of them, the Tories cannot win. Labour under Tony Blair wooed enough of them over to put the Conservatives out of power for more than a decade.

On top of this bedrock the Tories need to win over another swathe of voters with conservative instincts. These are more aspirational; they have jobs (usually in the private sector) and own their homes, or feel that home ownership is within reach. This group is going to be put under pressure by higher interest rates. Mr Sunak may escape blame for the current rise in rates, justifiably or not, thanks to the political ineptitude of his predecessor. But it’s important that the rates don’t keep going up. That means running a conservative fiscal policy. Both he, and his Chancellor of the Exchequer, Jeremy Hunt, seem to understand this. If inflation turns a corner, thanks to easing world conditions for energy and food, the pressure on interest rates will ease and it will look as if the government has managed a crisis well. The Tories would be in a position to raise doubts about Labour or a “coalition of chaos”, and, combined with the redrawing of parliamentary boundaries, there lies a narrow path back.

The threat to Labour of such a scenario is real enough. The public retains a serious bias against the party on economic management. This was made worse during Jeremy Corbyn’s tenure as leader. This wasn’t so much from what he and the party actually said – his shadow chancellor, John McDonnell, proved to be an able communicator – than from a general attitude by the party that used the word “austerity” as a term of abuse. The party made no attempt to pick fights with interest groups on the grounds that “we can’t afford that”. Things are much better under Sir Keir Starmer, though he has not picked able communicators as shadow chancellors – the best that can be said of the current incumbent, Rachel Reeves, is that she is more effective than her predecessor, Anneliese Dodds. Their strategy seems to be, as it was under Mr Blair and Gordon Brown, “the same, only different”: trying to pick only carefully chosen and relatively minor differences, like windfall taxes, but copying Tory policy otherwise. When Tory policy goes crazy, as it did under Ms Truss, this leaves them looking muddled. They were much happier under Boris Johnson, who tried to dodge hard choices altogether, meaning theatre was less pressure on Labour to confront choices it would rather not. Labour will face an awkward strategic challenge under the Sunak-Hunt regime. The “same, only different” strategy is still viable, but it will pose some awkward choices on its attitudes to public spending.

Mr Sunak is left with two major headaches, though. The first is on public services. The government will be forced to constrain resources in order to manage the budget deficit. The timing is awful. Services across the board – health, education, the police, courts, to name only the most obvious – are all under stress, and they are about to be put under further pressure by workers demanding that pay keeps pace with inflation. The job market remains quite tight, so retaining staff is going to be hard. And these public services, mostly, matter to people. The obvious cuts have already been made, and saving money through more competent management is something this government seems to be unable to pull off – years of incompetent leadership are a large part of how they got into this mess. Politicians have lived too long on the notion that message and narrative matter more than operational effectiveness. The government could face constant distraction from one public service crisis to the next, giving the overall impression that they have been in power too long and their time is up. They won’t be able to rely on trying to divert the focus to Labour.

The second problem for Mr Sunak is related: his party lacks competence and discipline. Crisis in public services could be compounded by parliamentary rebellions and questions over his leadership. His need to maintain a broad church of views within the cabinet does not help. Trouble with the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, illustrates this. She goes down a storm with party activists, and helps keep the culture wars burning – but tub-thumping will help little in trying to run a complex and important brief, which has already suffered from years of poor leadership. She had already been sacked by Ms Truss for what amounted to gross disloyalty (thinly disguised as breach of ministerial procedure). She is more a politician than an administrator. But on the backbenches she could be a thorn in her leader’s side.

To people like me, it is hard not to think that these are symptoms of a political system that may have worked once, but which has long since ceased to do so. Politicians achieve high office by playing the gallery to a small coterie of deranged activists and donors, and where administrative competence and negotiating skills count for little. So it is disappointing that Labour are offering no serious political reform. Activists support the introduction of proportional representation, but Sir Kir has no intention of letting that get into his manifesto. He is worried that marginal conservative voters will react against it. That may be a sound judgement. Perhaps if a coalition is forced on him by the Liberal Democrats, he will entertain some degree of reform. There may be something in Tony Blair’s strategy of being cautious before winning power for the first time, and more radical on the next occasion. But for now it is hard to know whether the Labour party is on the right strategic course, and has enough competent people at the top. To me it looks vulnerable.

But there are good odds on Sir Keir being the next prime minister – and that looks justified.

Britain’s economic difficulties have deep roots

The Comet airliner was world-beating British design before a crash in the 1950s allowed US aircraft designs to dominate the market. The British aviation industry never recovered.

Our new prime minister, Rishi Sunak, says that Britain faces a profound economic crisis. I don’t disagree – few will. Neither do I disagree with his statement that hard choices lie ahead. I almost certainly will disagree with him what the right choices are. We are entering a period when politics matters. But we need to understand more about the mess and how we might progress.

Liz Truss, Mr Sunak’s predecessor, presented a clear narrative to explain the country’s economic ills. A timidity in the British ruling elite, abetted by the “abacus economics” of the Treasury, has stifled private enterprise, leading to a bloated public sector accompanied by low economic growth. She saw that a combination of lower taxes and deregulation could correct this, deliver economic growth, and that, thanks to the wealth thus generated, the country would be able to afford an acceptable level of public services and welfare safety net, together with improved state pensions. She thought that she could kick start the process with tax cuts. The overarching narrative may or may not have substance, but the timing was all wrong. The result was the shortest prime ministerial stint in British history.

Ms Truss was rare in offering us a clear narrative. Mr Sunak will not make that mistake. Clarity divides, getting in the way of the coalition building that successful politics demands. But a clear narrative helps the rest of us decide which policies to support. I will attempt one of my own.

My story starts in the middle of the last century. Britain was an industrial powerhouse, with a strong belief in free trade, though this regularly caused political controversy. Before the Second World War, though, this was marred by widespread poverty; the country had not found a good way of spreading economic (or any other) wellbeing across the whole of society. And then came the war. The necessities of the war ushered in a period of massive state intervention that followed a lot of the principles of socialism. Food was rationed, but people were amazed that levels of nutrition improved, as the diets of the poorest in society improved. Meanwhile the British war economy produced wonders of production and ingenuity, combining state direction with private initiative. People saw that a new way was possible, and this was brilliantly articulated by the Labour leader Clement Attlee, who reassured the middle classes with a particularly British slant on socialism, and Labour won an overwhelming parliamentary majority in 1945. He ushered in a period of profound welfare reform and the nationalisation of key industries. Labour lost power in 1951, but the landscape was so profoundly changed that most of the reforms were supported by a political consensus.

There followed two decades of what many regard in hindsight as a golden age. Economic growth was rapid, living standards advanced, poverty reduced and life expectancy dramatically extended. Many transitioned from working class to middle class. An expanding working population and an industrial revolution in the development of consumer products were the drivers. But all was not well. Other countries were doing better. Britain was steadily losing its place among the front rank of industrial powers, to America, to Germany, and even to Japan. Each of these countries turned into export powerhouses, while Britain, relatively, declined. What was happening? Poor management and a relative lack of investment were to blame, along with some bad luck (the crash of the Comet airliner in the 1950s dealt a body blow a world-leading aviation industry). A lot of this had to do with the fact that large parts of the industrial heritage was now under public ownership, and this increased as industries, notably the motor industry, started to fail and led to a clamour for government intervention. The government either starved nationalised industries of investment (the water industry for example), or squandered unbelievable sums on ill-conceived investment programmes (notably nuclear power). There were exceptions to this general mis-management, of course, such as the switch from coal gas to natural gas for domestic use. But by and large decisive management was replaced by consensus-building and political grandstanding, and the constraints of government financial management. By the 1970s nationalised industries were a by-word for bad management. Meanwhile the private sector was weighed down by high marginal rates of income tax (top rate 83%, or 98% for investment income by the mid-1970s) and corporation tax (52%).

The 1970s were a time of profound economic crisis, with many parallels to now. Energy costs rocketed with two Middle East crises following the Arab-Israeli war of 1973 and the Iranian revolution of 1979. Inflation took off, and policymakers struggled to respond, as this came alongside rising unemployment (which we don’t have now, or not yet). In 1972 the Conservative government of Ted Heath tried to break the deadlock with tax cuts and more public spending (I can still remember the party political broadcast promoting this – I was 14), in a move reminiscent of Ms Truss’s failed budget. This quickly collapsed into disaster, and the government was locked into a confrontation with the miners’ union, amongst others. Harold Wilson’s Labour government of 1974 did not make things much better. Unions were able to block any serious economic reform.

In 1979 came the election of Margaret Thatcher and the Conservatives. Mrs Thatcher brought with her a new economic philosophy of reducing the role of the state. She started to reform the nationalised industries preparatory to privatisation. She cut marginal rates of income tax (though putting VAT up to maintain the overall tax take). At first things seemed to be going very badly. Inflation persisted, unemployment climbed, and nationalised industries played havoc with government finances. But by 1982 things were getting better. She received a political boost from the Falklands war, while Labour seemed to be imploding. A new party, the SDP (which I joined and have never left), offered a diversion, but failed to break Britain’s electoral system, even in alliance with the Liberals. Mrs Thatcher won a landslide majority in 1983, and quickly became politically more secure. Inflation was tamed and economic growth returned. This period remains a matter of bitter controversy. Many say that her success was based on the exploitation of North Sea oil. This was clearly a factor but her economic reforms, especially the privatisations of the energy, telecoms, steel and motor industries, clearly helped. Another factor that proved of benefit, though perhaps more so later, was the development of the European Single Market, of which Mrs Thatcher was one of the architects. Prior to this European product and labour markets had been badly fragmented. The European Economic Community had tackled tariff barriers, but non-tariff barriers remained high. These were progressively dismantled, so that Europe could follow America in the benefits of a large domestic market for many goods – and labour. Britain became a favoured European base for American and other countries. But while this progress was happening a lot of industries, notably the coal industry, collapsed under foreign competition and changing production technology. This has coloured Mrs Thatcher’s memory ever since – as she saw no reason to soften the blow as swathes of the country went into industrial decline.

One of the driving forces of change was globalisation. Increasingly the Far East became a source of cheap industrial imports. This started with Japan, and then moved on to South Korea and Taiwan, amongst others. Falling import prices became one of the chief sources of improving living standards, but it hastened the decline of former industrial heartlands. By the 1990s we see taking shape some of the main outlines of the current British economy. The country became a major net importer of manufactured goods, only partially offset by a booming service industry. At this point the books were being balanced by net oil exports. But some areas of the country were doing much better than others.

Labour under Tony Blair took over in 1997. Mr Blair sought to maintain much of the Thatcher legacy, but with an important difference. After 2001 in particular he expanded the public sector, through expanding public services such as health and education in particular. In these years a powerful myth took over the British political class. You could solve the conundrum of getting Scandinavian-level public services and welfare with American tax levels though allowing economic growth to expand level of tax receipts. But the politicians failed to understand the source of Britain’s growth in the early 2000s. This was largely driven by three factors. The first was an acceleration of globalisation, enabled by internet technologies and driven by China. I remember looking at the components of Britain’s consumer price inflation, which was about 2% per annum. The prices of manufactured goods were falling; this allowed 4% inflation in many services to be balanced out. And pay tended to follow the services figure, staying consistently ahead of overall inflation, and so leading to improved living standards. The second factor was a dramatic increase in European immigration. By the early 2000s many parts of the country were experiencing labour shortages. The baby boom was over, and the process of bringing women into the workforce largely complete; pension schemes were only slowly catching up with increased life expectancy and the proportion of retired people was growing. But the European Union at this point admitted Eastern European countries with a workforce that wanted to improve its living standards by working abroad. Poles and others flooded in and the demographic crisis was averted. Inflation was kept at bay, the second major component of growth. The third factor was the rapid expansion of financial services, and especially the banking industry. Many banks made big profits, giving the City of London the air of a boom town, inflating the property market, and generating significant capital taxes. Pretty much all the increase in recorded productivity in the early 2000s came from the banking industry, alongside “business services” (management consultants, lawyers, accountants and others feeding off the banking boom, as well as juicy public sector contracts), and the now-declining oil industry.

None of this was sustainable, and the moment of truth arrived in 2007, when the world banking crisis developed. Those big banking profits, and the productivity gains that came with them, were exposed as fiction, and the industry experienced massive write-offs. Meanwhile the globalisation boom peaked, as China sought to improve its own living standards rather than those of westerners. The public increasingly turned against European immigration. And the decline of North Sea oil continued apace.

So in this account the slow growth that followed the crash arose not from a failure of government policy (be it austerity in the left’s account; or excessive tax and regulation in the right’s), but from the exposure of demographic forces that were always present, and the passing of globalisation into a new phase that was not producing gains in living standards. And two further things were added after 2015: the decline of North Sea oil turned precipitate, and Brexit, after the referendum in 2016. Brexit has raised the cost of imports (especially if you attribute the depreciation of the pound that coincided with it, though I’m inclined to believe that much of this was in the pipeline anyway), made exporting harder, reduced the attractiveness of inward investment, and caused many immigrants to go home and made immigration harder. On that last point it is worth observing that the country has made up the shortfall in European immigrants with people from other countries, and in any case the European labour market is becoming tighter. But the labour market for immigrants became much less responsive to short-term demands. All round Brexit has added to the friction of running a business, rather than causing an immediate catastrophe.

To these troubles we must now add two more. Firstly the gas and oil price spike, exacerbated by the war in Ukraine, and secondly the rise in world interest rates. The energy price rise is a double whammy. It is helping to stoke up inflation, which causes economic damage in its own right, but also causes nominal interest rates to rise, which disrupts the economy in further ways; and the public expects the government to shield at least some of us, or even all of us, from the effects, causing a massive outlay in government spending. Rising interest rates make mortgages more expensive, which causes further hardship, and also disrupts a finance sector that has grown complacent on low interest rates.

The problem is this. Britain has a deep structural deficit in the trade of manufactured goods. We are heavily dependent on imports for our standard of living, and exports are nowhere near enough to cover this. We now have a substantial trade deficit on energy too, made worse by the Ukraine crisis. We still have a trade surplus on services, but nowhere near enough to cover the gap. Inward investment is sluggish, and anyway broader troubles in the world economy limit the possibilities. This means that the country as a whole has to borrow heavily from abroad – whether this is to fund the national debt or the private sector. Rising interest rates makes that more expensive. Crashing the pound would help exporters, maybe, and inward investment, almost certainly – and since nearly all the debt is denominated in sterling. would not make those debts any harder to maintain. But that would feed through to consumer prices, and destroy the economic strategy of the last few decades of consuming cheap imports.

There is a striking comparison to be made between Britain and Japan. Both are island nations with challenging demographics. Both have an uneasy relationship with their continental neighbours, on whom there is a degree of economic dependence. Japan has long set its face against immigration, an attitude that is prevailing Britain too. Japan has also been suffering economic stagnation, but it is not so obvious that the people living there mind, as economic wellbeing is spread widely. Something like Japan is what many of Britain’s Brexit supporters aspire to. But there is a crucial difference. Japan remains an industrial powerhouse, and produces a substantial trading surplus. They do not depend on inflows from abroad to keep the show on the road. That means the government has a huge amount of flexibility in borrowing money to meet its needs. Abacus economics is dead. It is living proof of the Modern Monetary Theory (MMT) idea that the debate on government deficits and national debt is beside the point. Japan is in the position that Liz Truss seemed to think Britain was in when she promoted her tax-cutting and free-spending budget. But even under MMT consumption cannot outlast production forever, and inflation is admitted as a constraint. That is where Britain now is, and the government has little choice but to bring its budget position under control. The pressure is not extreme, as it has been for countries like Argentina or, in a rather different context, Greece in 2010 – but the trajectory needs to be clear or otherwise market interest rates will rise further than they otherwise would, with difficult repercussions.

That’s for now. But what should the country’s longer term strategy be? Ms Truss, and indeed Mr Sunak, subscribe to vision of what might be called a “buccaneer” strategy. They present a picture of the country being a haven for freewheeling businesses, attracted by low taxes and able to out-manoeuvre over-regulated competitors in Europe and elsewhere. But buccaneering has its dark side – the original buccaneers were licensed pirates, legal in their home domain and criminals elsewhere, after all. Britain would need to develop its already burgeoning function as a haven for grey and even darker money, from kleptocrats and criminals across the globe. The trick to this, as we have learned, is not so much lax laws on such things money laundering, but weak enforcement. Most Brexit supporters would likely connive at such a strategy, if not openly support it – on one condition: that public services are made more effective, and the state pension is improved – they are probably less fussed abut other aspects of welfare spending. This is where the main political battles are going to come in the next few years – as it is far from clear that such things can be maintained without increasing taxes.

Liberals recoil from such a strategy, but they will agree in principle to another strategic objective – that of energy security, and reducing the dependence on fossil fuel imports. There is a disagreement, of course, on whether that means developing the remaining domestic fossil-fuel opportunities. But, in principle at least, most can agree on the development of renewable energy, with the storage and grid upgrades that will be needed alongside it. One thing that helps is that this can largely be financed by foreign borrowing and equity investment – as the linkage of investment to financial returns is easy to make.

If liberals can agree on the need to turbo-charge the development of renewable energy, what alternative can they present to the buccaneer strategy? We can’t go back to being an industrial powerhouse with a strong export industry. That ship has sailed. We can make modest gains, but we can’t reverse more than half a century of decline.

I can’t see a single big idea, but a number of smaller ones might add up to a strategy. The drive for renewables should be tied to a more general mission to decarbonise the economy. This should drive a whole series of investments and reforms that will help renew life generally. The country should aim to ease trade with the European Union, which will mean accepting EU regulation in lots of areas. But we should be wary of relaxing immigration rules. The public seems to be happy with immigration by and large, if it is closely regulated. That means bureaucracy and friction, but in a democracy we have to work within the constraints of public consent. The government should also help develop industries where the country looks internationally competitive. Healthcare is the most promising area – I think the idea of cooperation between the NHS and private entrepreneurs to develop new treatments has much potential. The relatively unified state of health records is an opportunity, though bringing challenges with it. Also public services need to become more effective. That means shifting towards solving problems rather than simply repairing the damage after the event. This in turn means a stronger emphasis on prevention, and getting the various different services working together more closely. It is hard to see how this can work without more localised leadership and accountability – serious decentralisation and devolution. A further idea is political reform – through electoral reform, and reforming the House of Lords. This is as yet a bit of a long shot. For all public discontent about the state of politics, I see little groundswell for changing the system , as the was case in New Zealand in 1993, for example.

But we are going to have to get used to two two things alongside all of this. Taxes will need to rise, and economic growth will continue to be sluggish. This is the opposite to what Ms Truss was trying to achieve. That is not the end of the world. We can still achieve an improved quality of life and an environmentally sustainable way of being. That is a simple consequence of where the country stands as demographic forces assert themselves, and after the country’s mishandling of its industrial legacy over the generations.

The cake has gone: the revenge of Treasury orthodoxy

Boris Johnson promised us that we could have our cake and eat it. So we ate the cake. When his successor, Liz Truss, went to the cupboard to look for it, she found that it was all gone. The transition from the bounty of tax cuts and energy subsidies promised by Ms Truss when she took charge to the austerity being promised just a few weeks later is one the most dramatic policy reversals I have ever seen in Britain.

During her selection campaign for the leadership of the Conservative Party, Ms Truss railed against “Treasury orthodoxy”. This, she said, was responsible for the country’s strangled growth since the financial crash of 2007-09. She knew what she was talking about since she had served as Chief Secretary at the Treasury for a stint in 2017-19. This was a widespread complaint. I heard it made by Lib Dems during the coalition years, especially as many ideas for long-term investment were shut down. The complaint was much more virulent from Labour supporters, for whom “Austerity” was the root of all evil. It is interesting to see these usual suspects being joined by the libertarian right, who have elevated high tax levels to the same heights of evil that the left has for austerity.

It is important to distinguish Treasury orthodoxy from economic orthodoxy – though most people seem to do just this. Treasury types are steeped in economic orthodoxy: you won’t get away with the “lump of labour fallacy” (the idea immigrants, for example, take away people’s jobs) if you talk to one of them. But it is tempered by an older belief, dating back to Gladstone and beyond, in “sound money”. They do not like to see high levels of government borrowing, leading to creditors being able to dictate policy. The divergence between Treasury and economic orthodoxy was especially evident in the coalition government of 2010-15. Many orthodox economists argued that austerity policies were at best overdone, or at worst completely wrong-headed. They suggested that there was significant slack in the economy, and that policies that reduced demand were a self-inflicted wound (whether there was as much slack in the economy as they thought, and whether the austerity policies were as destructive, are questions for economic historians). They produced as evidence more generous US policies at the time, leading to less economic hardship. The Treasury thought otherwise. In 2010 coalition ministers were scared witless by warnings of dire consequences in financial markets if austerity programmes weren’t followed. Both Tory and Lib Dem ministers accepted this basic premise, while quibbling with the details. The previous Labour government under Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling had as well. Almost all serious economic commentators now suggest that this was a serious mistake – and that the market position was not nearly as precarious as suggested.

Doubtless this is what gave Ms Truss the courage to take on the Treasury, though her central idea that tax cuts can be paid for through the growth they stimulate, especially when unemployment is at a record low and inflation on the rise, was a challenge to economic orthodoxy as well. She noted the substantial “headroom” in forecasts by the Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR) earlier in the year – doubtless brought about by stealth tax rises through holding tax thresholds down. She also noted that government debt levels were not as high as other some other big developed economies. So she appointed her close ally Kwasi Kwateng as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and his first act was to sack the leading Treasury civil servant, with talk of replacing him with an outsider.

It fell apart with startling speed. In the popular telling the “Markets” struck back, causing mortgage rates to shoot up. This has wiped out any feelgood factor brought about by tax cuts and energy interventions amongst a key constituency of Conservative voters. The talk about the power of Markets is a convenient shorthand, but oversimplifies things a lot. Media coverage as been very muddled. At first a lot of attention was focused on the pound – which at one point nearly sank to parity with the US dollar. But it was the gilt (government debt) markets that caused the mortgage rate problems. I think this took a lot of people by surprise, including, perhaps, our political leaders. In the common understanding interest rates are determined by the Bank of England, which was not due to meet until early November – so people probably expected any crisis on the mortgage front to approach slowly. In fact Bank of England decisions are only one factor amongst many – and mortgage providers need to look forwards at potential future rises. Then a crisis blew up with the liability matching policies in certain pension funds. I have read two tellings of this crisis. In one the pension funds had been indulging in reckless speculation camouflaged as prudent management of future cash flows; in the other prudent management was caught short by a temporary liquidity crisis dictated by the way certain financial markets are structured. The Bank of England rode to the rescue, but a temporary tiding over of a technical crisis was presented by many as something much broader. The Bank’s attempts to communicate what it was doing and why didn’t really help. Neither did Mr Kwateng’s attempts to shrug the whole thing off.

The muddle made things worse. The pound recovered, but gilt markets have not made life for mortgage providers any easier. But what has now been revealed to the world is what the point of Treasury orthodoxy is. Financial markets are complicated things, and they can affect the public in a number of ways. As with any market, they are the meeting place of people with many different agendas. If mismatches occur they can be destabilised quite easily. The Treasury tries to manage things by making orderly, predictable demands, and not pushing its luck. It builds up a reservoir of confidence which means that it can respond to emergencies. The timing of Ms Truss’s attempted coup could hardly have been worse. Rising inflation, low unemployment (showing limited capacity to expand the economy) and the energy crisis, coming after the trauma of the pandemic and alongside the destabilising effects of the Ukraine war, all pointed to this being a particularly delicate moment. Ms Truss’s attempt to blame the demise of her strategy on the markets is a bit like the Captain of the Titanic blaming the iceberg for the loss of his ship. Except that this was no stray iceberg, the government was steaming full-steam ahead the middle of a known iceberg belt.

Now the government, having destabilised things, is having to work very hard to restore order. Treasury orthodoxy reigns triumphant. The new chief civil servant is an experienced insider; an experienced senior politician has replaced Mr Kwateng as Chancellor; most of the tax cuts have been withdrawn; public spending cuts are back on the agenda; the energy price intervention has been scaled back. There was even talk of not raising the level of the state pension in line with inflation – the Treasury has long hated the so-called “triple lock” on pensions.

The dust hasn’t settled, but the effect of this change is chilling. It isn’t just tax cuts that have been put on ice – but hopes by politicians on the left of raising spending on public services and benefits now look much harder to fulfil. Suddenly Britain looks like a lonely nation living beyond its means in a hostile world. Hard choices lie ahead.

Liz Truss is the Tory Nick Clegg

Nick Clegg

The new Conservative leader and British prime minister, Liz Truss, has endured a spectacular collapse in public approval after only a month in office. Her party’s poll ratings have collapsed, and there is an expectation – unthinkable not long ago – that Labour will win by landslide at the next general election. A lot of people have drawn a parallel with a similar collapse under previous Tory prime minister John Major in 1992, after the pound fell out of the European Exchange Rate Mechanism, shredding his government’s reputation for economic competence. Ms Truss’s misfortune followed her government’s first budget, which rocked financial markets, causing a temporary breakdown, followed by much higher mortgage rates. Mr Major lost to a massive landslide in the subsequent general election, put off for as long as he could, in 1997. Ms Truss has only two years to go.

But the episode also puts me in mind of a similar political collapse, suffered by the Liberal Democrats when they entered a coalition with the Conservatives in 2010, led by Nick Clegg. Their polling support shrank to a fraction, and the party was nearly wiped out in the subsequent general election in 2015, and has only partially recovered since. I was a loyal party member at the time – and I still am. The current machinations by senior and not-so-senior Tories is very familiar. Exhortations that the party could turn things around, that it is all unfair, and other variations on denial – together with searing criticism from others, and a steady membership exodus, followed by the disappearance of most of the party’s council base (this last has yet to happen to the Tories, but it surely will). The public turned hostile; it became part of every current affairs comedian’s contract with the BBC that they should heap derision on the party and its leader. I also remember the personal opprobrium heaped on Nick – who evoked a loathing among many members of the public that he never overcame. He fled to America to make his subsequent career. Ms Truss is suffering the same treatment.

Does Ms Truss deserve this? I hate to see politics descending into such personal abuse. And in some ways she is a refreshing change from Boris Johnson, her predecessor. She is clear and focused. This is a little bit of truth that a lot of the misfortune to mortgage rates would have happened anyway. It is a mark of courage to do unpopular things for the longer-term good. Still, she has no electoral mandate to take the government in the direction she has – and she seemingly fails to understand this. And the precarious nature of financial markets was well known before the budget – which makes its content all the more reckless. Her approach to appointing cabinet ministers – reading loyalty ahead of competence – betrayed a complete lack of political skill.

There are lots of contrasts between Nick Clegg and Ms Truss. Nick was a much abler and more rounded leader. He subsequently took up a senior role with one of the world’s most important companies, Facebook (now Meta), and has held down the role successfully, securing a promotion. Few British politicians from any party have been able to pull off such a feat (the only one I can think of is Labour politician David Miliband, now head of International Rescue; he’s perhaps one of the best prime ministers we never had). It is hard to see Ms Truss being offered a senior management role in anything other than a political think tank. Her clarity and focus would equip her well for a number of middle-management roles, but an absence of market or customer awareness, and a blind spot on risk management, would disqualify her from most serious roles. For all his abilities, Nick could not shake off his collapse in popularity – though his high point, during the 2010 election, was much higher than Ms Truss ever achieved. If he couldn’t turn his fortunes around, what chance has Ms Truss?

There was also a striking contrast in what brought about their undoing. In Nick’s case it was because he broke a firm pledge: to abolish student tuition fees. Ms Truss’s problem was sticking to a very foolish pledge – to deliver tax cuts as soon as she took office, regardless of the cost of government intervention on energy prices. Of course the pledge was made to party members – the public had no say in her elevation. The public sees Ms Truss as ideological and incompetent; they saw Nick as sacrificing his political principles for the status of ministerial office – after he’d promised to be different.

Still, there is something the two have in common: a lack of connection with the public at large. Neither had much in the way of a serious contested public elections on their rise to power. They didn’t have careers as councillors; they achieved their ambitions through appealing to party members instead. Nick first became a member of the European Parliament by getting to the top of the list for a list-based proportional election system; he then got elected to the national parliament by getting selected in a safe Lib Dem seat at the only election, in 2005, when such a thing existed. Ms Truss did have a run at being a councillor (in the London Borough of Greenwich), standing twice before being elected in 2006, and standing down in 2010, when she stood for parliament in far away Norfolk. These council elections were all in different wards – there was no sense of building a serious council career. She was just doing her bit while searching for a safe parliamentary seat. I don’t think either she nor Nick expected that the public would react as deeply as they did to their first steps in power. So far as Nick was concerned, going into a coalition is what politicians in minor parties should do, as happens so often in other countries; the reversal on tuition fees was just one of the compromises you have to make to achieve other objectives. Ms Truss seems to think there would be widespread public support for her vision, where it not for all those silly lobbyists and talking heads. And that you implement policies by declaring your objectives loudly and railroading them through with loyal but inexperienced subordinates, regardless of practical difficulties. In both cases they caused a profound breach of trust, both with specific promises – but more generally with what they had claimed to stand for when originally elected. Such breaches of trust are impossible to come back from.

Apart from the fact that Ms Truss achieved the top job in British politics and Nick didn’t, things look bleaker for Ms Truss. Many ambitious Lib Dems MPs in 2010 suspected that they would only get one shot in government in their careers, but accepted that it would be worth it – though I don’t know whether these included Nick. The Lib Dem parliamentary party remained disciplined, the government lasted a full term of five years, and the party had a pretty decent record of achievements within it. Looking back, the most important of these was turning the corner on the promotion of renewable energy. The Lib Dem pupil premium policy also made a profound difference in education. There were other, negative achievements – vetoing or softening Conservative policies. I am, though, probably alone in thinking that the overall balance on austerity policies was right (as implemented rather than as planned), or at least justified based on what was known at the time – apart from excessive restraint on capital spending, which the party argued against. Against this admittedly modest record, Ms Truss stands to achieve very little of her agenda. Her party is divided; the government’s financial position is weak; she doesn’t have enough time.

One thing I think we can learn from the experiences of Liz Truss and Nick Clegg is that it is dangerous to be led by politicians whose careers are built purely on appealing to party members – and not on direct voter appeal – or even a record of achievement in the world outside politics. What to do? Electoral reform could make things worse if the wrong system were adopted. It is one reason that I favour the single transferable vote system – which avoids this pitfall better than any other. But Britain’s politicos don’t want to change the system that has been the basis of their careers. If there is change – which remains unlikely – it is likely to be for a system that includes a role for party lists, which are just as bad as safe seats in the current system. Still a proportional system would do something to constrain the power of those that reached the top – by forcing compromises between parties. A Truss moment would be nearly impossible, and a Clegg moment probably less shocking.

Meanwhile, political parties should reflect on whether it is wise to let their memberships choose their leaders – which they all do – and especially if they are leading the government at the time. Surely this is best left to MPs?

As the Tories implode, do the holes in Labour’s position matter?

In my last post, published on Sunday, I suggested that the British prime minister Liz Truss and her Chancellor Kwasi Kwateng should have been pleased with how their budget was going down. The messaging was clear, and the opposition response muddled. By Monday, though, the story had moved on. Bond and currency markets were giving the statement a spectacular thumbs down, and there was a whiff of panic in the air. The panic has passed, but it is evident to almost everybody that the pair have dug their party into a very deep hole. Today the Bank of England announced that it would be forced to finance a portion of government debt through money creation. It’s not a good look.

The market rout begun on Friday, especially in the gilt markets – but on Sunday Mr Kwateng clearly felt things were going well enough to double down on his tax cutting plans, and suggest there were more cuts to come on. But by Monday he was forced to try and calm things down, with promises a proper plan for national debt. Faithful supporters have been doing their best to mount a rearguard action, though no minister has put their heads above the parapet. They have tried to deflect the currency problems onto the US dollar, which doesn’t explain the sharp devaluation since Friday, evident against even such currencies as the Turkish Lira. All suggested that there was more to come to make things better. Tory MP Andrew Bridgen suggested the government might like to cancel the flagship HS2 rail project; John Redwood, a veteran MP who is somewhat more economically literate, said that the government was about to reveal a tranche of supply-side reforms, so the markets hadn’t seen the full picture. These messengers were helped (on BBC radio at least) by the lack of economic grip of their interviewers, who did not press them on the obvious gaps in what they were saying. The BBC also helped when remarkable criticism came in from the IMF, by highlighting their comments on inequality -rather that the much more damaging criticism that the budget threatened to create a recession rather than head it off.

The darkening mood was no doubt caused by the prospects for mortgage rates. The reason that markets stabilised was that traders came to appreciate that interest rates would go up in reaction to the budget. Mortgage providers reinforced this point. Commentators quickly showed that increases to mortgage payments for homeowners would quickly overwhelm any extra cash coming from tax cuts. And this is a critical group to Conservative electoral prospects. The criticism by government supporters of the Bank of England not raising interest rates earlier (“asleep on the job” according to Mr Bridgen) doesn’t really help here. Once the government’s ability to finance itself comes into question it has no attractive option to dig itself out. Monetary financing at a time of inflation is hardly going to stabilise things. Reversing the tax cuts would be a humiliating retreat which could taint the Conservatives for a generation. Spending cuts on the scale needed would alienate a large part of the party’s base, as would letting interest rates rip (though a different part of that base). Supply side reforms would have to be big and spectacular to reassure markets. Release immigration controls? Re-enter the EU Single Market or Customs Union? Stop Russian sanctions and invite oligarch money back?

What makes things worse for the government is that they were warned well in advance. During his leadership campaign former Chancellor Rishi Sunak warned Conservative Party members that handling the energy crisis and making tax cuts did not go together. Ms Truss poo-pooed this as “Treasury orthodoxy” which had ended up in years of sub-standard growth. There is certainly a baleful aspect to Treasury orthodoxy that requires intelligent challenge – but the Treasury also has experience of navigating the treacherous world of government finance. FT columnist Janan Ganesh says that the government has fallen into the trap of trying to apply policies appropriate to the United States to a medium-sized archipelago whose currency is not used as a global reserve. Success in running British economic policy is a delicate balancing act which depends on maintaining confidence, not thumbing your nose at the rest of the world.

What of Labour? They can hardly believe their luck. The initial response was fumbled. They went on about the tax cuts for the rich (and the abstract idea of “trickle-down economics”) – leaving the much bigger charge of being reckless with the country’s finances muted. But by Monday, with their party conference in progress, they started to find their feet. Their shadow chancellor, Rachel Reeves, delivered a worthy speech, in which she gave emphasis to financial stability. She also started on an alternative growth narrative that did not depend on tax cuts – through green investment and such. It is important that the Tories are not allowed to win the growth argument by default, of which there was a distinct chance, so ruthless and repetitive has been their messaging.

This has been complemented by an orderly conference, with its leader, Sir Keir Starmer, clearly in control. Dissent has been modest. I listened to two interviews by senior members of the party’s socialist wing: John McDonnell and Diane Abbott. Neither created trouble (and Mr McDonnell was distinctly more in command thad than Ms Reeves). The party was able to develop a narrative of a government-in-waiting.

Still, there are two big problems with Labour’s stance. The first is that they lack an alternative fiscal policy. They only said that they would reverse the higher rate tax cut, which has little fiscal impact – and said would not reverse the national insurance and basic rate income tax reductions. So how would they try to fill the evident gap? We just got obfuscation. When challenged about how the party was would maintain spending on the NHS and social care, Ms Reeves suggested that there was no problem because Mr Kwateng said so. They are trying to accept the fiscal package and disown it at the same time. To be fair, they did not say anything about not increasing Corporation Tax, and they have suggested higher windfall taxes on energy companies. But surely they are going to need something more. Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, who the leadership would like to emulate, solved a similar problem in the mid 1990s by adopting an austerity stance on spending – shadowing the Conservative government’s spending plans. This would take the party out of its comfort zone – but something like this will surely be necessary.

The second big problem is engagement with the European Union, as pointed out by Danny Finkelstein in The Times. The party understandably does not want to reopen the Brexit debate. But how to create a credible path for the country outside the union while shadowing so many EU policies on worker protection and the environment? This surely creates a competitive weakness. Mr Finkelstein thinks that the party, once in power, would surely be forced into a closer trading relationship, sacrificing many of the sovereignty gains as a result.

So Labour is trying to have its cake and eat it. Boris Johnson could get away with that, but it is harder to see that Sir Keir can. However the hole that Ms Truss has dug for her party is so deep that it probably doesn’t matter.

UPDATE, 30 Sep 22. The first quarter’s current account deficit was reported by the FT as being over 8% – compared to the 3% figure which I took from The Economist. According to the FT report (which dated from before the statement), this was making gilt markets nervous. This makes sense, though I would prefer to know exactly where the funding vulnerabilities are rather than relying on these broad aggregates. All this shows that there was lots of evidence that Mr Kwateng (and Ms Truss) were skating on very thin ice before the statement, but they chose to ignore it. Mr Kwateng’s decision to keep on digging the hole deeper in Sunday media interviews is quite astonishing.

The budget isn’t a gamble: it’s Russian roulette

The British prime minister, Liz Truss, and her Chancellor of the Exchequer, Kwasi Kwateng, must be pleased with how things are going following the “fiscal event” last Friday, otherwise referred to as a “mini” budget. They cannot use the word “Budget” because it was not accompanied by independent forecasts from the Office of Budget Responsibility (OBR). Whatever one thinks of the content, the media narrative is going well. The lack of the OBR forecast has clearly helped the government to shape it, and the Opposition is failing to divert it.

The word generally used to describe the fiscal policies set out in the statement is “gamble”. You can make a case for this word for the politics – but it is also being used to refer to the economics. The government’s central message is that it is implementing massive tax cuts, without corresponding spending cuts, with the aim of increasing economic growth. This is exactly how most commentators are describing it – and they say it is a gamble because the growth (targeted at 2.5% per annum over a period of years) may disappoint. That suits the government fine – it suggests bold and decisive leadership – which presents a striking contrast with the chaos of the previous administration led by Boris Johnson. Difficult times need bold leadership is the sub-text. Meanwhile the Labour Party are mucking up their response, talking about something called “trickle-down economics” which few outside their own activist circle will understand, and not taking about the game of Russian roulette being played with the nation’s finances.

There are two problems with the government narrative. The first is that the measures are nothing like as bold as is being suggested. The second is that there is zero chance that they will lead to a sustained increase in growth. This may not matter politically, because the next election could take place before its failure becomes clear. But the government is also taking a big risk with the state’s finances – for no discernible economic benefit except to a lucky few. This is the Russian roulette. This isn’t gambling – it is a form of torture.

So why do I say that the budget is not nearly as bold as billed? Firstly, a lot of the tax cuts are in respect of changes that have been implemented recently (the National Insurance changes) or not yet applied (Corporation Tax) – so don’t represent a change on the situation that applied a year or so ago, when Ms Truss says the growth performance was inadequate. That leaves the planned cut to basic rate of income tax of 1%, and the abolition of the top rate of income tax (reducing the rate by 5% for a very small number of earners), together with a reduction in stamp duty. But this needs to be set against a significant amount of “fiscal drag” – extra tax revenues pulled in because tax allowances and thresholds are not being adjusted for inflation, while incomes are being driven upwards. That is why the Resolution Foundation has suggested that the bulk of taxpayers will be no better off in real terms. There is a game of snakes and ladders – with the government is only talking about the ladders.

This is one reason that the measures will not have a sizeable impact on growth, but there is more. There are two ways that tax cuts can increase economic growth – one is by increasing consumption by allowing people to spend more. But that can only work if the economy is showing slack – otherwise all that happens is that the country imports more and the benefit goes to other countries. Or the gains are lost to inflation. There is no visible slack, and indeed the Bank of England will be obliged to neutralise any effect by raising interest rates – like a car being driven with a foot on both the brake and accelerator. The other way that tax cuts can help is if they change behaviour and either draw more people into the workforce or encourage them to work more hours (though as first-year economics students are told, tax cuts can have the opposite effect), or increasing productivity by, for example, creating a more positive environment for investment. It is hard so see that the odd percentage point off tax here and there will change behaviour by much. The exception may be the freezing of Corporation Tax – as the change to marginal rate is more substantial. Of course the actual increases to the rate haven’t been implemented – but the proposed changes may have influenced corporate investment plans, and these might change again. There were other “supply-side” changes in the budget too – infrastructure investments, special investment zones, and so on. But this is all small beer and will take time to have any effect. There is nothing radical here, like a root and branch reform of the planning system, major changes to technical education, or any of the other changes that people who worry about Britain’s supposed productivity problem suggest. Of course the government may move on to such action later – but the hype is being applied to the statement itself.

But even a more radical programme would struggle to make much difference. Economic growth fully developed economies (i.e. those without a significant agricultural workforce) is driven mainly by demographics – the proportion of people working in the economy. Here the country is facing a severe headwind as the baby boom generation retires. It is this population bulge that explains most of the rate of growth in the later 20th Century, and why it has slowed in the 21st. There is little on offer from the government, as yet, to address this, for example by freeing up immigration or encouraging more mothers (and fathers) into the workforce by making childcare more accessible. Both would be politically tricky (the latter because it would involve more public spending – “handouts” in Ms Truss’s language). At least pension reform and the impact of inflation on pension savings will discourage people from retiring, and bring retirees back into the workforce – but that is hardly a political bonus.

The scale of impact of demographics on growth in developed economies (which I have posted on recently) is still not widely understood, even by professional economists. Instead most of the focus is on productivity. There is a specific narrative that Britain is suffering from lower productivity than other similarly developed economies – and therefore that there is an opportunity to improve it and generate a bit of catch-up growth. This view is currently being promoted by The Economist newspaper, and Ms Truss and Mr Kwateng are clearly both believers. I am personally sceptical, as I don’t think the comparative productivity statistics are reliable. In particular I don’t think that proper account has been taken of the fact that Britain has deindustrialised faster than other economies, and so has a smaller manufacturing sector – which is where higher productivity measurements are concentrated. Britain benefits from cheap imports – but this won’t be captured by the productivity statistics (though a falling pound undermines this). Certainly there are a lot of things that could be done to make the economy work better, but it is easy to exaggerate their effect on overall growth, as they will often be neutralised by, for example, people retiring earlier, or by the gains being ploughed into less productive parts of the economy, like health spending.

What is certain though is that the government’s policies set out in the budget will have little or no positive impact on economic growth. The best that can be hoped for is a temporary boost from some unforeseen change to the workforce or energy market.

So is the budget much ado about nothing? Actually no. The main issue is what it did not address. A much more significant policy announcement came just before the hiatus caused by the passing of the Queen – the generous package of measures to support the public and businesses suffering from high energy prices. This came on top of generous government support during the pandemic, and promises to deal with backlogs in the NHS and social care. All this entails a huge fiscal outlay, and nothing was said about how this is to be financed – just a question of borrowing more. The budget has simply added to the strain rather than reducing it.

Here we enter uncharted waters. The government has been able to borrow freely from domestic and world markets, financing itself in its own currency. It is now widely accepted that it panicked back in 2010 when the Great Financial Crisis caused a huge government deficit. They did not need to implement austerity policies – or not quite so hard – to prevent financing problems. The thinking is now that much higher levels of government debt are sustainable than previously thought. People used to be worried if overall public debt reached 60% of GDP. Now people are relaxed about it heading over 100%. Discussion of this is muddled by the politicians. There is a lot of confusing talk about piling up debt that later generations have to repay. But that confuses the financial economy with the real one. The wealth of future generations will be determined by the productive capacity of the future economy and not by how the government is currently financing itself. Unless, that is, there is a financial breakdown that has the effect of constraining that productive capacity. That has happened in Argentina, for example, but not here, unless you count the IMF crisis of the 1970s.

And yet the risks of just such a breakdown are rising. Because the currency is freely floating the risks are less than if we were part of the euro, for example, or if the gold standard applied, as it did in earlier eras. But the financial climate is becoming more hostile – and the country is running a significant current account deficit (3.1% of GDP according to The Economist). This means that the country’s finances are dependent to some extent on foreign finance. The country has been running large deficits for two decades now, without any major stress. I have seen no clear explanation of this remarkable performance. I can only speculate that the sale of residential property to foreigners has a lot to do with it. But since we don’t understand how this has been achieved, we also have little idea of when things will become more difficult. The symptoms would be the government struggling to sell gilts, and being forced either to finance itself through the money supply (causing inflation) or borrowing in foreign currency, or seeking help from the IMF. This would entail a major financial crisis, and the government being forced to raise taxes, cut spending, implement capital controls, or other such unthinkable measures.

Although the pound has depreciated badly I still can’t believe that the country is close to such a crisis. But the risk is rising. Much more likely is an intermediate sort of problem, with persistent inflation, rising domestic interest rates, and a weak pound. Ms Truss’s growth talk would be shown to be vacuous, and the government’s reputation for competence would be shattered. This is what I mean by saying that the government is taking a big risk with its finances. It really should be talking about higher taxes, not tax cuts. The timing is completely wrong.

So why has the government embarked on this suicide mission? The simplest explanation is that they believe their own rhetoric. They really think that doubling down on neoliberal economic policies will yield positive economic dividends. Mr Kwateng said that the government’s new turn in policy represented a new era. In fact it is the death throes of the old one.

Thank you Ma’am

Photo: Joel Rouse/ Ministry of DefenceDerivative: nagualdesign, OGL 3 http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/doc/open-government-licence/version/3, via Wikimedia Commons

When I ended my last post nearly three weeks ago, I said that would be away for two or three weeks. How dramatic these weeks have turned out to be! The biggest event in news coverage terms, here in Britain, was the death of Queen Elizabeth II, who was buried earlier this week. Whether this is as important those many other stories in actual terms is harder to say. But I want to say something about it.

I am an apathetic republican. I don’t think that the head of state should be monopolised by one family, and decided by heredity. But I am open to more pragmatic arguments about the monarchy’s usefulness – and there is no perfect democratic alternative. This apathy, whether one is for or against the institution, seems to be widely shared. It is remarkable how many supporters use its attraction to tourists as one of their principal reasons – talk about damning with faint praise. A lot of our feelings are tied up with the holder of the top job. Like most I have been impressed with Elizabeth’s towering sense of public duty, and the way that she has preserved the institution’s dignity over the 70 years of her reign. And a feeling that I owe her thanks.

Many have reported being affected by association with their own families. This has affected me too. She was born about a month before my mother (who passed away in 2009), and about six months after my aunt, who is still with us. It is as if she was a distant member of the family – and her passing marks the disappearance of that generation. Which leads us to contemplate our own mortality.

Looking back on the period of mourning, it was a remarkable ten day storm – one that arose very suddenly, and which has passed just as suddenly. On the Saturday following her death I read a Guardian headline suggesting that BBC leaders were struggling to balance their coverage with other events. That puzzled me a bit, though not enough to read the article. I had not observed any balance in the BBC’s coverage whatsoever. On Friday night the BBC aired an extended programme referred to as “News and Weather” in the schedule, lasting an hour. We did get a short weather bulletin at the end. But not so much as a second of “other news’. We kept watching in anticipation that they would gives at least a little new, but nothing came. There was little enough actual news about the Queen’s death and the royal succession – just endless circling and dredging through history. And those royal correspondents dripping complacency. The BBC became pretty much useless and I stopped viewing or listening. Until the funeral – most of which I watched. The coverage of that was good – mainly because the commentators said very little, and allowed the ceremony to speak for itself. Funnily enough all that processing in and out was more moving that the service itself.

What of Elizabeth and her legacy? She held completely to the doctrine that the monarchy should be non-political. She simply stood for general goodwill to all. In practice that meant doing whatever her prime minister advised her to do. As a constitutional model, it is a weak one. Democratic systems work best when there is tension, forcing people to justify their actions, and creating a dialogue through which people can work through the issues. Instead, our system depends on the prime minister not asking for anything improper. Its failure was evident in 2019, when she appointed Boris Johnson as prime minister, simply on the advice of his predecessor (Theresa May), who followed Conservative Party rules. Mr Johnson did not have any parliamentary mandate until the general election of December that year. Meanwhile he inherited all the formidable executive powers of that role. This reached its climax when he decided to suspend the troublesome parliament without any clear constitutional reason. The Queen went along with this outrage – it was only stopped by the Supreme Court. But the Queen probably did not have a choice, as she had no democratic mandate of her own and was tied to a particular set of precedents – the culmination of the decades of her rule. A head of state should have forced Mr Johnson either to get his parliamentary mandate, through a confidence vote, or let somebody else try, or call an election. A serious flaw was exposed in Britain’s constitution.

I think that episode was the only serious political blemish in the Queen’s reign. Her interventions in the affairs of the Royal Family were less happy, from vetoing her sister’s marriage to a divorcee, to manoeuvring her heir Charles away form his love, Camilla, leading on to the disastrous marriage with Diana Spencer and its still reverberating after effects. All to no avail as Camilla is now the Queen Consort. In this, though, the Queen was following advice from her family and courtiers. It would have required immense will to resist these forces. That was not how she saw her role. Her one serious act of individual will – her choice of husband – was accomplished before she took the crown.

What happens next is hard to say. It cannot be the same with King Charles, even if he tries to make it so. We have been so used to Elizabeth as the sovereign that it is very difficult to understand how things have changed. The safest prediction is that the constitutional monarchy will go on. It will require a crisis to change it. The period of mourning showed a yearning from the bulk of British people (even the Scots) to stand together after the divisions of Brexit – and it will take a major crisis to bring the monarchy into doubt.

If the monarchy goes, it will be as part of a wider crisis in the British state. The main threat to the constitution came from Boris Johnson. That has been removed (though he has one potential last, damaging act in appointments to the House of Lords) – but other dangers lurk – not least the independence movement in Scotland. That is for the future.

Meanwhile I just want to record my thanks to Her Majesty for a long life of loyal service to my homeland, and, indeed, to the wider world.