Green investments can overcome the paradox of thrift

We need real public investment in Green projects now

Few economists will be entirely surprised that the UK is officially back in recession. We are witnessing a classic case of the "paradox of thrift" in which households, businesses, banks and now government are all retrenching simultaneously, cutting investment, shedding labour, restricting credit and storing money.

Government policies have failed to unlock record levels of private sector savings which could revitalise the stagnant economy. Yet if the Prime Minister and his Cabinet colleagues offer a bold strategic vision which restores confidence in the direction and consistency of public policy on the green economy, there will be golden opportunities for investment which could jump-start growth.

Investment has slumped mainly because households, businesses and banks are nervous about future demand, and have responded by forgoing more risky investment in physical capital, such as infrastructure. Instead, companies are squirreling away private saving into "risk-free" assets such as solvent sovereign bonds. As a result, annual private sector surpluses over the past few years have been at record levels, and amounted to £99bn last year, equivalent to 6 per cent of UK GDP.

Desired saving has exceeded desired investment to such a degree that global real "risk-free" interest rates for the next 20 years have been pushed to zero and below. Savings are losing value by the day as pension funds and financial institutions pay real interest to (rather than receive interest from) governments; a truly perverse state of affairs given the need for productive investment. These low rates do not reflect a collapse in the underlying returns to capital, but instead reflect desperately depleted confidence.

And when everyone retrenches simultaneously, fear of recession becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, sustaining a vicious circle of low demand and low investment that affects the whole economy.

The UK, like many advanced economies, needs to stimulate economic growth to reduce deficits and debt, but growth requires investment, and investment levels have slumped to record lows relative to output. The longer recovery is delayed and capital sits idle, the more skills are lost and the higher the misallocation of resources, making it harder to restore growth.

Fiscal policy is generally constrained by the need to restore confidence in the sustainability of public debt and, with short-term interest rates close to zero, the effectiveness of monetary policy to stimulate growth is reaching its limits.

What is needed to restore confidence is a clear strategic vision with supporting policies to guide investors. A vision to build an innovative, resource-efficient market economy which restores energy security, tackles climate change, and saves consumers and businesses costs in the long run.

Standard macroeconomics tells us that the best time to support low-carbon investment is during a protracted economic slowdown. Resource costs are low and the potential to crowd out alternative investment and employment is small. In addition, although public budgets are stretched, there is no shortage either of private capital available for investment, or of investment opportunities with potential for profitable returns. The current opportunity should not be missed.

This is about more than correcting market failures, such as those associated with greenhouse gas emissions; it is about restoring confidence through mission-driven investment which spurs innovation in a way comparable to, but bigger in scale than, the space race or the struggle to defeat cancer. Policies to encourage low-carbon investment would provide new business opportunities, generate income for investors and would have credibility in the long term because they address growing global resource challenges, while tapping into a fast-growing global market for resource-efficient activities.

The most recent figures published by the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills show that the UK low-carbon and environmental goods and services sector had sales of £122.2bn in 2010-11, growing 4.7 per cent from the previous year and placing us sixth in the global league table.

But the private sector is not investing as heavily as it could in green innovation and infrastructure because of a lack of confidence in future returns in this policy-driven sector. The Government should incentivise such investment by itself taking on elements of this policy risk which it "controls". By backing its own low-carbon policies, the Government can stimulate additional net private sector investment, and thereby make a significant contribution to economic growth and employment.

The Government can do this, for instance, by allowing the Green Investment Bank to operate as a lending institution, offering loans to private companies so that it shares some of the risk of private investments in green infrastructure.

But it also needs the Prime Minister and his Cabinet colleagues to be publicly supportive of the green economy. Whenever the Chancellor conveys the false impression that we have to make a choice between environmental responsibility and economic growth, he undermines the confidence of private sector investments. The Prime Minister helped to repair some of his damage with a speech this week that highlighted the importance of clean energy, but there needs to be a clear vision for "the greenest government ever".

In past global recessions, rearmament, electrification and space races have helped restore investor confidence – this time the vision should be green. The green sector is one of the few vibrant parts of our economy at the moment. It offers a golden chance to generate growth, as long as the Government makes stronger efforts to restore private sector confidence in public policy.

Savings and investment: A bank vault in the US. Photograph: Getty Images

Dimitri Zenghelis was formerly Head of Economic Forecasting at HM Treasury and is currently a senior visiting fellow at the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment at London School of Economics and an adviser to Cisco systems. His paper, A strategy for restoring confidence and economic growth through green investment and innovation is available at http://www.lse.ac.uk/grantham/.

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Relive your worst experiences for $15 an hour: how confessional journalism exploits women writers

The women’s website Bustle asks its writers to fill out a checklist covering every possible personal angle; it puts a low-market value on their most intimate truths.

Let me tell you about the worst thing that ever happened to me, the most terrible thing I’ve ever done. Let me tell you everything there is to know about me, all the buried markers of self that live under my skin. OK not that one, and I’ll keep that one too. I have to have something left over, after all. Even so, I’ve written about being the May Queen at school, and the time I got flashed in an underpass; about having depression as a teenager, and the unplanned pregnancy that became my son.

Actually, I’ve written about that last one twice: my first successful pitch for a comment piece was a response to anti-abortion comments by the then-influential semi-thinker Phillip Blond. It was a kind of pitch I now refer to now as the “what I think about X as a Y”: what I think about abortion as a woman who had and chose to continue an unplanned pregnancy. Experience is capital, and in 2009, I used it to buy my way into writing.

It’s a standard route for women writers, but not usually as formalised as it is at women’s website Bustle, which (as Gawker reported last week) asks its writers to fill out a checklist covering every possible personal angle: “I see a therapist”, “I’ve had group sex (more than three)”, “I used to have a Fitbit but I don’t now”.

Every bit of what you are, granulated and packaged for easy dispersal through a range of stories. It’s an editorial approach that gives rise to a weird, impersonally-personal tone. “Five Reasons I’m Grateful For My Parents’ Divorce”, chirrups a listicle; “that’s why I tried anal sex in the first place”, trills a gif-heavy piece about the benefits of bumming.

That’s just the shallow end of the confessional genre. The ideal online women’s interest story combines a huge, life-changing disclosure with an empowering message. Like this, from xoJane: “I'm Finally Revealing My Name and Face As the Duke Porn Star” (the last line of that one is: “My name is Belle Knox, and I wear my Scarlet Letter with pride”). Or this, from Jezebel: “On Falling In and Out of Love With My Dad” (which concludes like this: “And to the victims of their abuse, I want to say what I have finally been able to understand myself: that my attraction, and what it led to, was not my fault”).

It’s tempting to think of this blend of prurience and uplift as a peculiar product of the internet, but it’s been a staple of women’s publishing forever: the covers of women’s magazines are full of lines like “Raped for 50p and a biscuit!” and “The groom who went ZOOM!” about a jilted bride, exactly as they were when I used to sneak them from my aunt’s magazine rack to read them as a child. The difference is that, in the trashy weeklies, there’s no pretence that trauma is the overture for a career. You get paid for your story, and someone else writes it up. The end.

At Bustle, the rate apparently runs to $90 for a six-hour shift. That feels like a low market value to put on your most intimate truths, especially when the follow-up success you’re investing in might never materialise. The author of the father-daughter incest story for Jezebel told a Slate writer that, despite the huge web traffic her confessional received, her subsequent pitches were ignored. Her journalistic career currently begins and ends with her very grimmest experience.

“Everything is copy” is the Nora Ephron line. But when she said it, she didn’t intend the disclosure economy we live in now. For Ephron, “everything is copy” meant claiming control: “When you slip on the banana peel, people laugh at you. But when you tell people you slipped on the banana peel, it’s your laugh. So you become the hero, rather than the victim of the joke.”

Does the aspiring writer plucked from an editor’s checklist to retail her own Worst Thing Ever get to call the banana skin her own?

The Bustle checklist suggests not. “Don’t put anything on here you don’t want to write about,” it stresses, before adding, “that said, you can always say ‘no’ . . . You might be too busy when an editor approaches you about possibly writing an identity post, or simply not interested, and that’s okay! We won’t be mad!”

Ticking the box basically puts you in a position of assumed consent, but which hopeful young woman would dare to set her boundaries too close when an editor tells her this could be good for her career? (Yes, I know this sounds a bit like a story of sexual harassment. Funny, that.)

So many confessionalist pieces of writing tell stories about women having their limits overridden. Rape and coercion. Abuse and assault. Being talked over and ignored. But the logic of the perpetual confession journalism machine is the same: everything about a woman should be available to use, nothing a woman has to say is valid without a personal claim to authority, repackage their guts as shiny sausages and call it an “identity piece”.

Women writers shouldn’t be waiting for permission to say no. We need to tell our stories on our own terms, and we need to set better terms than $15 an hour and the hope of some exposure. The worst thing that ever happened to me? It’s mine. I’m keeping it.

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.