I’m proud to be a “deficit denier”

The Tories have no empirical or historical basis for their hysteria over the debt.

I've spent the past year on this blog mocking and riling so-called climate-change sceptics or "deniers", so I'm amused to find myself for the first time included in a different list of "deniers". According to the Prime Minister, those of us on who are critical of his government's austerity measures, and prefer to delay spending cuts and tax rises, are "deficit deniers". Hilarious.

Let me be clear: I'd much rather be a so-called deficit denier than succumb, as the Tories and their allies in the media and the business world have, to "deficit hysteria". Those of us who oppose the coalition's fiscal sadism do not deny the existence of this country's largest Budget deficit since the war, nor do we pretend that cuts will never come. We prefer, however, to contextualise the deficit and to point out that, for example:

  1. the national debt as a proportion of GDP is much lower than at other periods in our recent history,
  2. the national debt as a proportion of GDP is lower in the UK than in the United States, Japan, Italy and other industrialised nations,
  3. the UK and Greek economies are not at all comparable,
  4. deep and early spending cuts don't guarantee the retention of our much-lauded triple-A credit rating,
  5. the deficit is a result of a collapse in tax revenues after a recession caused by the bankers, rather than Labour's "profligacy", and
  6. the best route out of debt and deficit is economic growth and fiscal stimulus rather than Hooverite cuts and premature fiscal consolidation.

This last point is perhaps the most important. I'm amazed that some senior Labour Party figures seem to have bought in to this Tory narrative of the deficit and the importance of deficit reduction.

The shadow industry secretary, Pat McFadden, said in a speech this morning that Labour's current opposition to cuts risks exposing the party to accusations by voters of "wishing the problem away".

Peter Mandelson says in his new memoir that the party's biggest mistake in its final years in office was "allowing ourselves to be characterised as indifferent to the deficit or in denial about the consequences as to what was happening in our public finances".

This is a load of rubbish. Labour figures should be at the forefront of explaining the importance of deficits in rescuing fragile economies from double-dip recessions. Labour figures should be, as David Miliband has said, making the "moral" case for deficits. Labour figures should be excavating their copies of J M Keynes's General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money.

As the economists Ann Pettifor and Victoria Chick argue, in a brilliant contribution on the Bloomberg website:

It may seem obvious that if you want to cut debt, you cut expenditure, but Keynes showed that the government finances were very different from a household budget. For him, macroeconomic outcomes were often the reverse of outcomes based on microeconomic reasoning.

Keynes was instrumental in the development of national accounts, which give us the opportunity to test his conclusions. Combining the official estimates with British economist Charles Feinstein's invaluable historical estimates permits an analysis of the impacts of fiscal policy over the past century.

They point out that there are "eight episodes over which changes in the public debt (as a percentage of gross domestic product) can be compared with those in public expenditure" and they report that "the results stand wholly opposed to the conventional wisdom". As Pettifor and Chick write:

Comparing for each episode the average annual change in the public debt as a share of GDP and the average annual growth in government expenditure in cash terms, we have results that are perhaps even more remarkable than Keynes might have imagined. There is a very strong relationship between changes in government expenditure and the public debt.

But, outside the two world wars, the relationship goes in the opposite direction to that predicted by most commentators: increases in public expenditure are associated with reductions in public debt. Very roughly, so long as there is unemployment, for every percentage rise in government expenditure, the public debt falls by half a per cent, and vice versa. This is very compelling evidence in favour of Keynes's insights.

Even Simon Jenkins -- no friend of Gordon Brown or Alistair Darling! -- argues in today's Guardian::

Worst of all for Osborne is that, were it not for the continued rise in public spending, Britain would still be in recession. The ONS was quoted today on the crucial role of government spending in the first three months of this year in underpinning the economy. Private wages have been falling by 1.9 per cent and state wages rising by 3.6 per cent. Osborne is right to assert that this dependency on government is unwise and unstable. But it is one thing to accuse the patient of being a drug addict, quite another to send him cold turkey overnight.

Everyone professes not to want a double-dip recession, yet every bit of news, from home and abroad, suggests that this is now a real prospect.

He adds:

Why the west's economic leaders seem so trapped in a pre-Keynesian time warp is intellectually intriguing. An answer recently given by the economist Paul Krugman in the New York Times is that they care more about their "institutional credibility" in financial markets than about refloating a depressed economy. They are like statesmen who prefer to rattle sabres than avert war.

Another answer, closer to home, is that politicians seek to curry favour from their immediate circle. In the crises of the 1960s and 1970s, Britain's rulers spent their time with trade unionists and businessmen. They neglected the "supply side" and generated raging inflation. Now they associate with bankers obsessed with the security of bonds, and therefore with budgetary asceticism. In this respect, Osborne is no different from Darling. Both ignore Keynes's simple insight that businessmen will not invest and the economy will not grow if there is no consumer demand for products.

Hear, hear!

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

Show Hide image

Leader: Mourning in Manchester

Yet another attack shows we are going to have to get to used to the idea that our liberalism and our freedoms can only be preserved by a strong state.

Children are murdered and maimed by a suicide bomber as they are leaving a pop concert in Manchester. As a consequence, the government raises the terror threat to “critical”, which implies that another attack is imminent, and the army is sent out on to the streets of our cities in an attempt to reassure and encourage all good citizens to carry on as normal. The general election campaign is suspended. Islamic State gleefully denounces the murdered and wounded as “crusaders” and “polytheists”.

Meanwhile, the usual questions are asked, as they are after each new Islamist terrorist atrocity. Why do they hate us so much? Have they no conscience or pity or sense of fellow feeling? We hear, too, the same platitudes: there is more that unites us than divides us, and so on. And so we wait for the next attack on innocent civilians, the next assault on the free and open society, the next demonstration that Islamism is the world’s most malignant and dangerous ideology.

The truth of the matter is that the Manchester suicide bomber, Salman Ramadan Abedi, was born and educated in Britain. He was 22 when he chose to end his own life. He had grown up among us: indeed, like the London bombers of 7 July 2005, you could call him, however reluctantly, one of us. The son of Libyan refugees, he supported Manchester United, studied business management at Salford University and worshipped at Didsbury Mosque. Yet he hated this country and its people so viscerally that he was prepared to blow himself up in an attempt to murder and wound as many of his fellow citizens as possible.

The Manchester massacre was an act of nihilism by a wicked man. It was also sadly inevitable. “The bomb was,” writes the Mancunian cultural commentator Stuart Maconie on page 26, “as far as we can guess, an attack on the fans of a young American woman and entertainer, on the frivolousness and foolishness and fun of young girlhood, on lipstick and dressing up and dancing, on ‘boyfs’ and ‘bezzies’ and all the other freedoms that so enrage the fanatics and contradict their idiot dogmas. Hatred of women is a smouldering core of their wider, deeper loathing for us. But to single out children feels like a new low of wickedness.”

We understand the geopolitical context for the atrocity. IS is under assault and in retreat in its former strongholds of Mosul and Raqqa. Instead of urging recruits to migrate to the “caliphate”, IS has been urging its sympathisers and operatives in Europe to carry out attacks in their countries of residence. As our contributing writer and terrorism expert, Shiraz Maher, explains on page 22, these attacks are considered to be acts of revenge by the foot soldiers and fellow-travellers of the caliphate. There have been Western interventions in Muslim lands and so, in their view, all civilians in Western countries are legitimate targets for retaliatory violence.

An ever-present threat of terrorism is the new reality of our lives in Europe. If these zealots can murder children at an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, there is no action that they would not consider unconscionable. And in this country there are many thousands – perhaps even tens of thousands – who are in thrall to Islamist ideology. “Terror makes the new future possible,” the American Don DeLillo wrote in his novel Mao II, long before the al-Qaeda attacks of 11 September 2001. The main work of terrorists “involves mid-air explosions and crumbled buildings. This is the new tragic narrative.”

Immediately after the Paris attacks in November 2015, John Gray reminded us in these pages of how “peaceful coexistence is not the default condition of modern humankind”. We are going to have to get used to the idea that our liberalism and our freedoms can only be preserved by a strong state. “The progressive narrative in which freedom is advancing throughout the world has left liberal societies unaware of their fragility,” John Gray wrote. Liberals may not like it, but a strong state is the precondition of any civilised social order. Certain cherished freedoms may have to be compromised. This is the new tragic narrative.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

0800 7318496