Supporting business: let's follow northern Europe

The UK needs to raise its game.

As the UK economic recovery continues to stutter, calls for a return to an active industrial policy to restore the competitiveness of British business grow louder. We are increasingly looking to Germany and other northern European economies to understand how they have managed to weather the global recession more successfully than the UK.

One lesson that the UK could take from our northern European competitors is the way they support businesses to expand and innovate. Very little of this support has traditionally been available in Britain, with governments paying scant attention to the choices that employers make about how to compete, despite the impact this has on innovation, resilience, wages and the quality of goods and services. 

Labour’s Business Link service was designed to fill this gap but its impact was patchy, often lacking operational knowledge of local markets and a real understanding of how SMEs work. Instead of reforming Business Link into a service capable of promoting growth and innovation among British firms, the Coalition has simply reduced it to a generic website and phone line. This is in marked contrast to the tailored and practical business support available in a number of other European countries.

The failure of business support in the UK is rooted in the hands-off approach to industrial policy evident over the last three decades. Over this period, skills and training have been the only areas of business support deemed suitable for government intervention, an approach exemplified by the previous Labour government, which put adult skills policy centre-stage in its strategy for economic competitiveness and social inclusion. This was based on a misguided belief that a more highly qualified workforce would, by itself, drive innovation, competitiveness and resilience in the "knowledge economy". Substantial investment in adult skills coupled with targets to increase qualification rates among the adult population followed.

The impact of this new activity and funding was limited by Labour’s reluctance to consider how skills are used in the workplace, and what else drives innovation and competitiveness, like access to finance and market intelligence. As a result, a stubborn third of employers fail to invest in staff training and training rates have actually fallen over the last decade. Many UK firms have retained low-skilled, task-based production processes where training and workforce development are largely irrelevant to the bottom line. Studies suggest these kinds of business models are more prevalent in Britain than in many northern European countries. Such firms are profitable but could be less resilient to changing economic conditions. Levels of innovation also tend to be lower, and, for employees, the work is badly paid and repetitive. 

Countries like Germany, Finland, Norway and Australia have stolen a march on the UK by experimenting with different ways of supporting businesses to raise their game. Employers are supported to invest in new ways of working, access finance and develop new products, as well as to develop a well-skilled workforce. In one example in Finland, a local catering service was helped to restructure its business so that catering assistants took on a role in planning meals, budgeting and purchasing ingredients. Procurement costs fell and productivity improved, and the ability to use new skills raised motivation among staff. A simple training programme divorced from the need to reorganise the production process is unlikely to have delivered the same results.

Just like in welfare, extra support should be matched with extra conditions. To access public money for training and business support, employers would have to join local employer associations and commit to raising wages for trained staff or sharing the cost of training. But the specific deal would be left to local partners and employers to negotiate, taking skills policy and funding out of the hands of centralised quangos. In the UK, this kind of tailored business support delivered by people who know about business – whether in employer associations, professional bodies or local chambers of commerce – is the missing link that will ensure investment in skills delivers sustainable economic gains.

Kayte Lawton is Senior Research Fellow at IPPR. No Train, No Gain: Beyond free-market and state-led skills policy by Tess Lanning and Kayte Lawton is available here.

The Uk could take cue from Europe, Getty images.

Kayte Lawton is senior research fellow at IPPR.

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue