Is Alan Johnson the right man for the job of shadow chancellor?

The coalition, and the cuts consensus, have to be challenged, not indulged.

I was on Radio 4's World Tonight and BBC2's Newsnight yesterday discussing the appointment of the former home secretary Alan Johnson as the new shadow chancellor. I don't think any of us saw that coming -- in fact, I don't think Alan Johnson saw it coming! When I spoke to him at the Labour party conference in Manchester, he seemed keen to shadow the Deputy Prime Minister, Nick Clegg, and hold the coalition government's constitutional and electoral reform agenda to account. He has never served in the Treasury before and is not an expert on the economy.

Nick Robinson tells the following anecdote on his blog:

I once told Alan Johnson that some in the cabinet were arguing that he should replace Alastair Darling as chancellor. His communication skills, wry good humour and common sense were regarded by many as making him the perfect foil to Gordon Brown and more likely to cheer up the nation up than Darling himself.

I well recall his reaction – he looked like he'd swallowed a wasp. Unlike the other obvious candidate back then – Ed Balls – he had no economic training and was not desperate to do the job.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I was hoping Ed Balls would be made shadow chancellor. I believe he was the best-qualified person for the job – and he deserved it, too, having delivered a scathing critique of Osbornomics at Bloomberg in August, and having harried and humiliated Michael Gove at the despatch box again and again over the summer. I also think it is odd that the two most formidable economists on the Labour front bench should be confined to home affairs (Balls) and foreign affairs (Yvette Cooper), where their impressive grasp of macroconomics will not be needed and where Cooper, in particular, might be wasted.

But what do I know? I'm just a hack. Ed Miliband is the leader and I'm guessing he has a plan. Plus, Johnson is an experienced and able politician, a great communicator with a fantastic sense of humour, as well as a fascinating backstory that contrasts with George Osborne's privileged upbringing.

Now, there has been much debate over the past 24 hours as to whether the Johnson appointment and the decision to deny Balls the post he so craved is a sign of strength or weakness on the part of Miliband. I was on BBC Radio Wales with the former Blair adviser John McTernan this morning: McTernan thinks the new Labour leader showed "strength" in giving Balls the home affairs, rather than the Treasury, brief. Indeed, the narrative emerging from the Blairites is "Ed Mili faced down Ed Balls".

But there is another view that says that Miliband the Younger capitulated to the Blairites and the right-wing press, who like to refer to him as "Red Ed" and to Ed Balls as a "deficit denier", by going with the safe option of Alan Johnson, a supporter of the candidate (Mili-D) who was backed by more Labour MPs than Mili-E was. Kevin Maguire, for example, says:

Ed Miliband's fluffed his first big call. Appointing Alan Johnson as Labour shadow chancellor is to stick with the Alistair Darling line on halving the deficit when Labour lost the election. The bold move was to put Ed Balls or Yvette Cooper in the job and shift the Labour position to slower cuts to keep the economy recovering.

I'm not sure where I stand on this. Perhaps, as I noted in a CIF piece yesterday, the personnel issue is irrelevant and we should all wait to see what Labour's policy response is to George Osborne's Spending Review on 20 October.

Ed Miliband has repeatedly referred to the Alistair Darling plan for deficit reduction (that is to say, halving the deficit over four years) as a "starting point" and told Channel 4 News the day after his conference speech that he'd like to do more with taxation, and less with spending cuts, than Darling had allowed for. Johnson's appointment might be part of a deliberate strategy by Miliband to take charge of the party's economic and, specifically, fiscal policy rather than outsource it to the shadow chancellor/chancellor (as Tony Blair did in the Nineties and Noughties).

It is worth remembering that Miliband taught economics at Harvard during his sabbatical in 2003-2004 and chaired the Treasury's Council of Economic Advisers between 2004 and 2005. Unlike Blair, and perhaps Johnson, he understands economics.

Meanwhile, the coalition's fiscal and welfare policies are in disarray – at the Conservative conference, a cut in child benefit for higher-rate taxpayers to save £1bn was followed by a transferable tax allowance for married couples which will cost £500m! In today's Daily Telegraph, Chris Huhne, the Lib Dem Energy Secretary, says that the proposed spending cuts are not "lashed to the mast" and that it "may be appropriate" to alter the plans in the event of a serious economic downturn. Like Ken Clarke, the Tory Justice Secretary, Huhne also admits that a double-dip recession is a possibility.

So now is not the time for Ed Miliband to go wobbly on deficit reduction. The opposition has to make clear that deep and immediate cuts will make the deficit get bigger, not smaller. And Alan Johnson needs to understand the Keynesian argument, and the "moral" argument – as his preferred leadership candidate, David Miliband, put it during the Compass hustings in June – for running deficits in downturns.

Here are some people Johnson should perhaps try to speak to for advice this week, ahead of the SR on 20 October:

* Paul Krugman

* David Blanchflower

* Anne Pettifor

* Martin Wolf

* Ed Balls :-)

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.

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.