It may be too late to prevent recession

George Osborne's policies have failed. He talked down the economy -- and now it is sinking.

The data releases this week have all been bad for the coalition. It started in the United States, which matters because generally what happens there is repeated in the UK a few months later.

First, the Conference Board published data on consumer confidence that showed a much greater collapse than had been expected, especially in relation to the respondents' expectations for the future.

Second, the Case-Shiller house price index -- the leading measure of US home prices -- shows that the US National Home Price Index declined by 4.2 per cent in the first quarter of 2011, after having fallen 3.6 per cent in the fourth quarter of 2010. The National Index hit a new recession low with the first quarter's data and posted an annual decline of 5.1 per cent versus the first quarter of 2010. Nationally, home prices are back to their mid-2002 levels. As of March 2011, 19 of the 20 MSAs covered the index were down compared to March 2010.

Third, ahead of the official release of employment data on Friday, an ADP Employment Services report suggests that private-sector payroll growth slowed sharply in May, falling to the lowest level in eight months. This prompted some economists to lower their forecasts for job growth in Friday's data release. It looks as if the US is slowing.

In Europe, the final Markit eurozone manufacturing PMI fell sharply to a seven-month low of 54.6 in May, down from 58.0 in April and below the flash estimate of 54.8. The fall in the index was the largest since November 2008, as manufacturers reported slower rates of increase in output, new orders, employment and inventory accumulation. China is also slowing. Economic output in Australia shrank by 1.2 per cent in the three months to March -- the worst quarterly slide since 1991 -- the national accounts of the Australian Bureau of Statistics showed yesterday.

The data releases for the UK today were truly awful. They follow from the public finance data that shows that, far from paying off the debt, Osborne is increasing it. Plus such growth as there wasn't -­ GDP grew by zero over the past six months -- was driven by government spending. Then, today, the PMI for manufacturing in May was worse than the market expected.

According to Capital Economics, on past form, that leaves the balance consistent with quarterly falls in manufacturing output of around 1 per cent. Some of this fall, it argues, is likely to have been driven by the temporary disruption to supply chains caused by the Japanese earthquake. But Capital Economics points out that the new orders balance also fell from 50.8 to 48.3, which, it argues, suggests that "beneath the monthly volatility, a sharp underlying slowdown in demand is taking place".

There were also a number of statistical releases from the Bank of England, which added to the bleak picture. It appears that banks are simply not lending enough to get the economy moving. This suggests the poorly named Merlin project -- which should be renamed the Mickey Mouse project -- has not worked any magic. First, the money-supply growth was weak. Second, the stock of lending to UK businesses overall contracted in the three months to February, as did the stock of lending to small and medium-sized enterprises. Third, the number of loans approved for house purchases fell by 4 per cent to a four-month low of 45,166 in April ­- the lowest figure for April since records began in 1992.

This inept Chancellor has talked the economy down by falsely claiming it was bankrupt when it wasn't, which has decimated animal spirits among both businesses and consumers. He has also tried to blame a once-in-a-hundred-year global financial crisis on the previous government, which was clearly also untrue and hyperbolic. Osborne has implemented toothless regulation over the banks and has demonstrably failed to get them to lend. He also has no interest in controlling bankers' bonuses, despite his absurd claims to the contrary when he was shadow chancellor. And all of this before the public spending cuts hit: currently it is the public sector that is the driver for growth but that is all about to change. The public finances are worsening, not improving.

The government's economic policy is in total disarray and the economy is sinking. Osborne has been hoisted by his own petard; his numerous false claims were inevitably going to catch up with him and now they have. The coalition's austerity programme was never based on sound economics and was simply a political move to shrink the state. Interestingly, the claims that the economics profession supported his actions have turned out to be false. In my NS column in the issue out tomorrow, I make clear that one of the initial signatories to the letter to the Times that Osborne touted as supporting him ­- the 2010 Nobel Prize winner in economics, Chris Pissarides -­ has now, embarrassingly for Osborne, turned against him and now opposes the ill-conceived and wreckless austerity programme of cuts and tax increases.

It is hard to find any economists outside the City of London that do support the government's strategy, other than a few of the usual right-wing hangers-on.

It is time for Osborne to explain to the British people why his economic policies have failed and what he intends to do about it. My fear is that Slasher has inflicted so much damage on the British economy that it is too late to prevent us slipping back into recession.

David Blanchflower is economics editor of the New Statesman and professor of economics at Dartmouth College, New Hampshire

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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