Osborne prepares to admit defeat on debt reduction

The Chancellor will abandon his debt rule to prevent even deeper cuts.

In his "emergency Budget" in June 2010, Osborne declared that "unless we deal with our debts there will be no growth". But as all Keynesians know, the reverse is true. Unless you stimulate growth, you can't deal with your debts. According to the latest independent forecasts, Osborne will be forced to borrow £174.9bn more than originally planned from 2012-16, a figure that is only likely to rise as growth remains anaemic or non-existent.

Indeed, so bad is the fiscal situation, that, as today's Times reports (£), Osborne is preparing to announce the abandonment of his golden debt rule in the Autumn Statement on 5 December. The rule, which forms the second part of his "fiscal mandate" (the first relates to the structural deficit, which the Chancellor aims to eliminate over a rolling five-year period), is designed to "ensure that debt is falling as a share of GDP by 2015-16". Based on the most recent set of forecasts from the Office for Budget Responsibility, published at the time of the Budget, debt will decline from 76.3 per cent in 2014-15 before dropping to 76 per cent in 2015-16. But since then, the economy has fallen back into recession, with borrowing already up by more than a quarter on last year. As a result, independent forecasters now say that Osborne will miss his target. The IMF, for instance, has forecast that debt will rise from 78.8 per cent of GDP in 2014-15 to 79.9 per cent in 2015-16.

In response, the Chancellor could, of course, announce billions more in tax rises and spending cuts. But that would only further reduce growth, meaning that he might miss his target anyway, and would hardly endear him to voters already bruised by austerity. Thus, as the Times reports, Osborne, with David Cameron's agreement, "is ready to take a political hit on missing the target rather than face the "nightmare" of further cuts."

For the Chancellor, the consequences could be grim. The abandonment of the debt rule would dismay his party's fiscal conservatives, and could trigger the loss of the UK's AAA credit rating, the metric by which he has set such stock. But it could also offer Osborne one final chance to redeem himself. Once he accepts that debt reduction should not be prioritised over growth, the menu of policy options expands accordingly. Indeed, a  well-sourced leader (£) in yesterday's Times suggested that the Chancellor was even considering a small stimulus. And why not? With the UK able to borrow at the lowest interest rates for 300 years, it is only Osborne's political pride that has prevented a change of course thus far. Even the IMF has said that a reduced pace of deficit reduction would not lead to a rise in UK bond yields. Freed from his fiscal straitjacket, Osborne would finally be liberated to pursue a policy that works.

Chancellor George Osborne leaves 11 Downing Street in London. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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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.