Til debt us do part

An interview with Stewart Lee.

What do Meat Loaf, Walt Disney, Oscar Wilde and Burt Reynolds have in common? Yes, they achieved success in their chosen fields but that’s not the answer I’m looking for. Give up? They have all been declared insolvent. I should surely take some comfort in being member of a club that has such established and varied members.

I’ve recently finished putting together a radio series about debt. It is the culmination of an Arts Council England project I have been working on that was prompted by my own attempts to understand and talk on stage about my insolvency. Over the past eight months I have been speaking to economists and academics as well as writers and performers to see what their views are on economics and debt as well as how one might talk about such subjects in an artistic way.

It turns out the latter isn’t easy. Talking about the economics of my trip into negative equity and trying to be entertaining at the same time is pretty difficult. It’s why – among many reasons - you don’t see stand-up economists. The abstractness of modern day economics pulls in the opposite direction to being interesting and fun on stage. But that’s not to say it can’t be done.

To look at how to do that I talked to some of the most successful performers, academics and writers who engage with politics and some aspect of economics in their work.

In a recent attempt to do this I spoke to the comedian Stewart Lee about how he approaches political material in his act as well as what he thinks about the cuts to arts funding announced in 2011 and, amongst other things, the current trend to put an economic price on art.

You can listen to the show, originally broadcast on Resonance 104.4 FM, below:

Sean Gittins is a stand-up comedian, writer and broadcaster. You can find out more about his Arts Council England project Til Debt Do Us Part and his other work at www.seangittins.co.uk and @sean_gittins.

Stewart Lee, centre, at the 2012 British Academy Television Awards (Photograph: Getty Images)
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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.