Why Osborne's cuts aren't "soft"

The misleading claim that Osborne is only cutting spending by one per cent a year.

Supporters of George Osborne's economic strategy have made it their mission to convince the world that his cuts are not harsh, savage or draconian but are in fact "soft", "mild" and "insignificant". It's a smart tactic designed to make Labour's opposition to the cuts look hysterical and economically deluded.

The most prominent and articulate exponent of this view is Spectator editor Fraser Nelson. In a blog published yesterday, he wrote: "Osborne's cuts aren't harsh or drastic: they're mild and probably insufficient. There's almost no organisation on the planet that agrees with Balls that cuts of less than 1 per cent a year are too harsh and too fast -- he ends up looking like a loser."

Nelson's figures aren't wrong - Osborne really is cutting spending by just 0.6 per cent this year and by just 3.7 per cent across this Parliament. But they are deeply misleading. The figure for total cuts includes non-discretionary spending such as welfare benefits (the "automatic stabilisers" Osborne recently referred to) and debt interest, masking the true extent of the coaliton's squeeze on public services.

The Treasury table below, which looks at departmental spending in isolation, shows what all the fuss is about. The Home Office is being cut by 25 per cent (see the final column). Education is being cut by 11 per cent. Transport is being cut by 15 per cent. The Foreign Office is being cut by 28 per cent.

The total cut to departmental spending is 11 per cent, the largest, as the IFS has noted, since 1945. If we strip out the NHS and International Development - the ring-fenced departments - the total cut is 19 per cent.

I should add that higher inflation means that the cuts will be even worse. The NHS, for instance, which was due to receive a small real-terms increase, will now suffer a small real-terms cut (the reason why it was so foolish for Cameron to "guarantee" last week that spending would rise).

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Another tactic beloved of the right (most notably John Redwood) is to point out that spending, in defiance of Osborne's cuts, continues to rise. Gordon Brown's government spent £50.6bn in May 2010 but Cameron's splashed £54.1bn last month. What's more, the latest Treasury figures show that total state expenditure, which stood at £669.7bn in 2009-10, will be £743.6bn by 2014-15. The cuts are all in the left's head.

But the claim that the cuts are mythical is only achieved by the old trick of measuring public spending in cash terms, rather than as a percentage of GDP. The latter is by far the more sensible measure. At times of economic expansion, it is only reasonable to assume that some of the proceeds of growth will go towards improving public services, and public-sector inflation is typically higher than the average growth in prices.

If we look at public spending as a proportion of GDP, the true picture emerges. The cuts will reduce public spending from 47.6 per cent of GDP in 2010/11 to 41.0 per cent in 2014/15. For many on the right, this is still an unacceptably high level of expenditure. But one can hardly deny that it represents a substantial reduction in the scope and size of the state's activities.

Rather than hiding behind misleading figures, it would be more intellectually honest of the right to make the case for Osborne's cuts, red in tooth and claw. Once the coalition's squeeze is complete, their statistical conjury won't fool anyone.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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With the BBC Food’s collection under threat, here's how to make the most of online recipes

Do a bit of digging, trust your instincts – and always read the comments.

I don’t think John Humphrys is much of a chef. Recently, as his Today co-presenter Mishal Husain was discussing the implications of the BBC’s decision to axe its Food website (since commuted to transportation to the Good Food platform, run by its commercial arm), sharp-eared listeners heard the Humph claim that fewer recipes on the web could only be a good thing. “It would make it easier!” he bellowed in the background. “We wouldn’t have to choose between so many!”

Husain also seemed puzzled as to why anyone would need more than one recipe for spaghetti bolognese – but, as any keen cook knows, you can never have too many different takes on a dish. Just as you wouldn’t want to get all your news from a single source, it would be a sad thing to eat the same bolognese for the rest of your life. Sometimes only a molto autentico version, as laid down by a fierce Italian donna, rich with tradition and chopped liver, will do – and sometimes, though you would never admit it in a national magazine, you crave the comfort of your mum’s spag bol with grated cheddar.

The world wouldn’t starve without BBC Food’s collection but, given that an online search for “spaghetti bolognese recipe” turns up about a million results, it would have been sad to have lost one of the internet’s more trustworthy sources of information. As someone who spends a large part of each week researching and testing recipes, I can assure you that genuinely reliable ones are rarer than decent chips after closing time. But although it is certainly the only place you’ll find the Most Haunted host Yvette Fielding’s kedgeree alongside Heston Blumenthal’s snail porridge, the BBC website is not the only one that is worth your time.

The good thing about newspaper, magazine and other commercial platforms is that most still have just enough budget to ensure that their recipes will have been made at least twice – once by the writer and once for the accompanying photographs – though sadly the days when everyone employed an independent recipe tester are long gone. Such sites also often have sufficient traffic to generate a useful volume of comments. I never make a recipe without scrolling down to see what other people have said about it. Get past the “Can’t wait to make this!” brigade; ignore the annoying people who swap baked beans for lentils and then complain, “This is nothing like dhal”; and there’s usually some sensible advice in there, too.

But what about when you leave the safety of the big boys and venture into the no man’s land of the personal blog? How do you separate the wheat from the chaff and find a recipe that actually works? You can often tell how much work a writer has put in by the level of detail they go into: if they have indicated how many people it serves, or where to find unusual ingredients, suggested possible tweaks and credited their original sources, they have probably made the dish more than once. The photography is another handy clue. You don’t have to be Annie Leibovitz to provide a good idea of what the finished dish ought to look like.

Do a bit of digging as part of your prep. If you like the look of the rest of the site, the author’s tastes will probably chime with your own. And always, always, wherever the recipe is from, read it all the way through, even before you order the shopping. There is nothing more annoying than getting halfway through and then realising that you need a hand blender to finish the dish, just as the first guest arrives.

Above all, trust your instincts. If the cooking time seems far too short, or the salt content ridiculously high, it probably is, so keep an eye on that oven, check that casserole, keep tasting that sauce. As someone who once published a magic mince pie recipe without any sugar, I’m living proof that, occasionally, even the very best of us make mistakes. 

Felicity Cloake is the New Statesman’s food columnist. Her latest book is The A-Z of Eating: a Flavour Map for Adventurous Cooks.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad