Productivity's down, but can it recover?

There probably isn't a long-term drop in productivity.

The standard explanation for the divergence between the (quite good) employment data and the (abominable) GDP data is that productivity has, for whatever reason, plummeted.

Various explanations have been proffered. It may be that the productivity slump is specific to this recession, and is caused by the government's desperate desire to "rebalance" the economy from the public to private sectors. If it's achieved this by laying off a lot of productive workers, they will find themselves working less well in their new jobs in the private sector, and so there will be a productivity slump – even while employment goes up.

Alternatively, the productivity slump might be a short-term effect of the slump. In this recession, for whatever reason, the drop in demand didn't lead to people laying off workers, but instead caused them to keep them on in the hope that the slump would end and they could start using their slack capacity again. This is the preferred explanation of Free Exchange, which writes:

Supporters . . . argue that high inflation doesn't mean there is no capacity in the UK economy: recent high inflation was down to a rise in commodity prices and the VAT increase; it has since dropped. Business surveys are often unreliable and don't account for what happens when demand picks up. The financial crisis doesn't explain everything: look at the USA and Spain. These countries have had much stronger productivity growth. Indeed, Bill Martin and Robert Rowthorn, of Cambridge University, have lent much support to this "temporary" explanation in a May publication. They show that the shift in jobs from high- to low-productivity sectors only amounts to a 1/4 percentage point of the productivity shortfall.

Then, of course, there is the argument that there isn't actually any problem at all. The FT reports

The single biggest puzzle for economists is the fact that the GDP data simply do not tally with the message from the labour market which is that employment, and the number of jobs, are growing. “It is difficult to reconcile the weakness of today’s [Wednesday’s] official GDP data with any other indicator of economic or labour market activity,” said Kevin Daly, economist at Goldman Sachs.

Mr Daly noted that in the three months to May, employment rose by 0.6 per cent or 182,000 jobs while the unemployment rate fell by 0.2 percentage points to 8.1 per cent. That, he said, was consistent with annualised GDP growth of 1.0 to 1.5 per cent for the second quarter.

It's Goldman Sachs versus the ONS. Of course, last quarter it was Goldman Sachs versus the ONS as well, and the ONS were very definitely proved right. Don't expect much different this time.

Osborne isn't too happy. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times