This Budget is about ideology as much as fiscal responsibility

It was Maggie Thatcher who stole milk from schoolchildren. Now this government will take money from

The Budget showed that, for the Conservatives, the problem facing the country is one of government rather than of the market. The Tories believe that the problem lies with the state, the size of which should be reduced, and not with the banks which collapsed.

That much is clear from how the burden of the Budget will fall: of the £40bn additional fiscal tightening being proposed, it looks as though £13bn will be achieved by raising VAT and £11bn by an attack on welfare. In contrast, £2bn is being raised by the banking levy. This reveals the priorities of this Conservative-led coalition.

The burden of the changes introduced will fall particularly heavily on the poorest and on working people more generally. The Chancellor said that he had a choice between raising income tax or VAT. About £1 of every £7 that poor people spend goes on VAT, while for the rich, the figure is about £1 in every £25. It is highly regressive and that it was increased reflects the right-wing agenda being elaborated by this government.

People have reason to fear other elements of the Budget. It was Margaret Thatcher who stole milk from schoolchildren. Now this government will take money from poorer mothers.

According to the TUC, the announcements made show that poorer mothers will lose about £1,200 a year. This may not affect the 22 millionaires sitting around the cabinet, but it can make a difference to many children and families. Whatever my differences with them, I do not believe people joined the Liberal Democrat party to attack poorer mothers, but that is what this Budget does.

It would not be my priority at this time to go for further fiscal tightening, given the fragility of the economy and the lack of demand elsewhere in the world. This view has been expressed by others, including President Barack Obama in his letter to the G20. The chief economist at KPMG, Andrew Smith, has described the Budget as a "kill or cure" plan, and went on to say:

The aim is to eliminate the structural deficit over this parliament, but it risks choking off the recovery. There is no guarantee that private demand will rebound just because the government retrenches.

Paul Krugman, the Nobel Prize-winning economist, asked how hard it could be to understand that governments can save economies rather than destroy them. Yet, as he said: "politicians seem determined to do the reverse. They're eager to short-change the economy when it needs help."

We are taking a huge risk with the future of our economy. Two million private-sector employees work for companies that are dependent on government contracts. Further damage will inevitably be done to the private sector by cuts aimed at the public sector.

When we look at the performance of the private sector, we see that it, rather than the public sector, has brought about the reduction in GDP, especially in investment. People may not like to use the word, but if there is a strike going on at the moment: an investment strike in the private sector. We can understand why it happened, but nonetheless, £6 of every £10 of the reduction in GDP is down to the decline in private-sector investment.

It is not clear to me how cuts now will suddenly lead to growth in private-sector investment. Furthermore, the Budget shows a decline in public-sector investment from £47bn in 2008-2009 to £21bn by 2014.

The underlying economic philosophy of the Budget is that, by reducing the state, the private sector will flourish. The reverse is true, as we know from J M Keynes and from what happened in the Great Depression of the 1930s. Roosevelt's New Deal rebuilt the American infrastructure and economy. The private sector was able to revive through expenditure, not cuts.

The May election gave no legitimacy for the course the government has set. Inevitably, there will be resistance both in parliament and outside. It is for the Labour Party to reflect carefully on how we respond. It will want to react responsibly, but we should place ourselves alongside people and communities who are resisting the cuts.

Jon Trickett is the Labour Party MP for Hemsworth.

Jon Trickett is the shadow minister without portfolio, Labour deputy chair and MP for Hemsworth.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war