A "one nation market" could turn the economy on its head

Far beyond calls for a "responsible capitalism", Miliband should push for a "one nation market" that can really benefit the many, rather than the few.

We have absorbed the narrative and enjoyed the dynamism, but the great challenge will now rest in its practical execution. In the run up to the next election, the crucial divergences between the major political parties will concern the conversion of their philosophy into practice. While the underpinning philosophy can lend itself to subtlety, its execution will inevitably be quite different.

We have only glimpsed forthcoming Labour policy this conference season, but perhaps enough to gauge its general direction and approach. From Caroline Flint, the shadow energy and climate change secretary, have emerged plans to abolish the present energy regulator, Ofgem, and impose greater regulation on the country's retail energy market. And Gareth Thomas, the shadow minister for civil society, and Chris Leslie, the shadow financial secretary, have called for more stringent requirements on the banks to deliver on transparency and to invest a proportion of profits in communities - much like the Community Reinvestment Act pioneered in the US.

All of which is very well for those footing the bills. But for the "one nation" philosophy to really succeed, Ed Miliband - and those of all parties and none - must complement such regulation with a far more ambitious agenda. Far beyond calls for a "responsible capitalism", Miliband should push for a "one nation market" - a market that can really benefit the many, rather than the few.

Increased regulation of the energy retail market, for example, could see caps on energy bills and a relief for consumers, but will not in the long-term decentralise electricity distribution, or create greater retail competition to break up its supply. Policy should instead seek to grant "the many" the power to take hold of such markets and indeed open up the opportunity for communities and smaller groups to enter in.

As argued in a ResPublica paper published earlier this year, communities could  themselves be perceived as the potential producers and owners, rather than simply passive consumers, of their electricity generation and supply. A recent growth in co-operative energy models and a greater interest in community shares, have really revealed the nation's appetite for such widespread ownership and devolved investment to take place. "Responsible capitalism" may hold large energy companies to account, but a "one nation market" could turn a consolidated economy completely on its head.

Miliband's "one nation" call, coupled with Jon Cruddas's drive for a politics of the "common good" and a better "big society", has opened up the opportunity for such an agenda to emerge. Turning the philosophy into transformative practice will now be the challenge, and may indeed be the pivot upon which the next election is won or lost.

Caroline Julian is a senior researcher and project manager at the think-tank ResPublica, and co-author of Re-energising Our Communities: Transforming the energy market through local energy production

Ed Miliband applauds shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper at the Labour Party conference in Manchester. Photograph: Getty Images.

Caroline Julian is Deputy Director, Head of Policy and Strategy at the thinktank ResPublica.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.