From Skintland to a United States of Britain

The hysterical debate around Scottish independence is harming independents

The Economist this week caused a bit of a stooshie north of the border by wading into the murky waters of the independence debate with a front cover that labelled an independent Scotland as "Skintland". Whether the SNP’s irate response to the article was individual petulance or co-ordinated political manoeuvring, we’ll probably never know.

What the Economist does spell out is that the hyperboles of neither side are true. Scotland has excellent resources and would not be an "impoverished backwater". Equally, there are not boardrooms full of investors waiting eagerly on the edge of their seats for Alex Salmond to usher them into his socio-democratic paradise.

If the economics are just about even, then, why all the fuss?

Because secessionist movements are not economic. A recent book by two MIT Economists concludes that the optimal size of a country is a trade-off between the benefits of being big (not enough of the current debate has focused on this) and the costs of heterogeneity. Voters want a government who represents their cultural and social beliefs. It is clear that a large number of Scots have felt disenfranchised by sneering, plummy Westminsterites for generations; but this narrow view disregards those many Scots who are proud to be both Scottish and British and who want to stay a part of the Union for the same non-economic national pride that the Nationalists claim a monopoly on.

The debate – an ideological one hidden behind the false pretence of economics – is reminiscent of the USA’s recent primaries, where king-making independent voters are forced to listen to months of diatribe before getting down to the (hopefully) more rational Presidential election.

And just like in America, voters who would prefer a pragmatic, economic solution for the UK are instead being offered two increasingly polarised options.

But there is an alternative.

Of the SNP's "seven key strengths" plan – released hastily in response to Skintlandgate – all seven would be attainable under devo plus/max, yet there is no mention of these options in the Economist article.

Most independents (a poor choice of word in this case) would probably welcome further fiscal powers for Scotland within the Union, preserving the benefits of size and free movement of goods and labour whilst allowing the Scottish Government to provide a more tailored basket of public goods. Indeed, fiscal decentralisation in Scotland offers a rare opportunity to make many better off without making others worse off. But the rub with this can be found in another Economist article two weeks previous:

Scotland, given the power to lower corporation tax. . . will suck investment and jobs from below the border.

There is evidence that this "beggar-thy-neighbour" approach is already happening, with companies such as Amazon awarding large contracts to Scotland over north England thanks to the good (generously funded) work of Scottish regional development agencies (RDAs), which were abolished in England to its detriment. Provided UK growth policy continues to focus on the South East – the SNP’s main, justifiable argument – devo plus/max will breed resentment and inequality in the rest of the UK’s peripheries. For this reason, a fiscally decentralised four-state solution would also be unfeasible.

What is required is a bottom-up model for the UK: Further fiscal decentralisation of the four nations alongside the regions of England; elected regional assemblies with tax-and-spend powers and well-funded RDAs; all backed up with the monetary largesse of the British State and the safety net of central transfers to underperforming regions. In short, a federation. This would allow Britain to rebalance via a productivity-driven, regional-growth model whilst maintaining an historic 300 year old Union and – although no-one seems to mention it – avoiding a costly, messy secession.

It is fitting, then, that as the polarised rhetoric on both sides of the independence debate begins to emulate American politics, the best solution for our constitutional future might lie in a United States of Britain.

The Economist "skintland" cover, which was in no way deliberately provocative

Dom Boyle is a British economist.

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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.