Austerity's definitely happened. The question is how much damage it's done

The fact that austerity has failed does not mean no-one tried to implement it.

The Atlantic's Matthew O'Brien writes:

Britain's economy is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, but this much is clear: it's a disaster. After its Olympics-fueled growth, such as it was, lifted it out of recession in the third quarter of 2012, Britain might be headed back after its economy fell 0.3 percent at the end of the year the fourth time in five quarters its GDP has contracted. Britain's now verging on a triple-dip recession, which is just another way of saying a depression…

It's no accident this era of zero growth has coincided with an era of austerity. Despite entering office with borrowing costs at 50-year lows, the Cameron coalition decided the government deficit, and not the growth deficit, was the chief threat to future prosperity. It raised taxes and cut the growth of spending, but did so with little regard for what constituted smart cuts and what did not… It's the economic equivalent of shooting yourself in both feet, just in case shooting yourself in one doesn't completely cripple you.

O'Brien goes on to argue that austerity can't be the only cause of Britain's slump. For him, the real puzzle is the collapse in productivity which has lead to a recovery in the labour market (of sorts) without a commensurate recovery in GDP. (That disconnect may partially be the result of some statistical fiddling on the part of the Government).

There's a number of possibilities for such an "enigma", from zombie firms which are only kept alive by the low cost of credit, through measurement error (both that mentioned above and something gone awry with the seasonal adjustments), to genuine slumps — temporary or otherwise — in productivity.

But one group of people think they have the answer to O'Brien's puzzle, albeit by discounting one of his premises. These are the "cut further, cut faster" Tories, for whom a failure to reduce the deficit as quickly as they desire is the same as a failure to implement austerity.

NIESR's director Jonathan Portes has taken on this tendency, in the form of a detailed response to two of its biggest proponents, Tory MP John Redwood and the Spectator's editor Fraser Nelson.

Nelson writes:

We’re witnessing the difficulty the left has in reconciling its official narrative with what’s actually happening. Yes, George Osborne’s policy is not working – but for reasons that the Guardian can’t quite bring itself to accept. It’s not that his evil cuts are retarding the recovery. It’s that he’s slowly abandoning his deficit plan. The figures show that core government spending is going up, along with the debt and (last month) the deficit.

Portes responds that yes, core government spending "is roughly flat in real terms, with cuts in some areas offset by the operation of the automatic stabilisers". But defining austerity in terms of core government spending is arguing at cross-purposes with those who argue that austerity has harmed the British economy.

The simple analysis of the government's austerity program is that the reduction of the deficit is equivalent to austerity. That was the initial definition the government went with, which is why the failure to reduce the deficit to any great degree is seen as failing on its own terms.

But deficit reduction can't be directly equivalent to austerity, since it can also be achieved by growth. (Which is the argument the anti-cuts left has been making consistently for the last three years.) And so we get to the circular argument in Nelson's claim that Osborne has failed at austerity. Because what he is describing as the failure to achieve austerity — slow paced deficit reduction and flat spending — is actually a symptom of the failure of austerity. As Portes writes, the causal inference is wrong. It's not that the Chancellor is abandoning austerity and so the debt continues to rise; it's that debt continues to rise because austerity doesn't work to reduce it, and so the Chancellor is trying to quietly change tack:

The government did not adopt policy changes which led to slower deficit reduction. Instead, the front-loaded fiscal consolidation illustrated above (along with other factors, such as the similar, and similarly misguided, policies pursued by our eurozone partners) derailed the recovery, which in turn led to the slowing of deficit reduction, which in turn has forced the government to abandon its fiscal framework. Again, the IMF sets all this out quite clearly.

For Portes, the important failure of austerity is in the resulting reduction in capital investment, because austerity stands opposed to fiscal stimulus (which he defines as "Government measures, normally involving increased public spending and lower taxation, aimed at giving a positive jolt to economic activity").

The Government, in its desire to cut the deficit primarily through spending cuts with a top-up of tax rises, thus failed to achieve one of its goals. Spending was not cut significantly, but between tax rises and initial moderate growth, the deficit has been reduced. This is the austerity which is decried. The fact that one of the measures through which this was intended to be achieved is not proof that there has been no austerity, but merely further proof that austerity is self-defeating.

And by focusing on attempts to reduce spending and achieve "fiscal consolidation", the government failed to implement fiscal stimulus (even going so far as to reduce public investment by 1.7 per cent of GDP).

The failure of austerity to greatly reduce the deficit, and the fact that automatic stabilisers mean that spending stubbornly refuses to fall — as we swap a pound spent on EMA for a teenager in school with a pound spent on JSA for an unemployed civil servant — are not the same as a failure to implement austerity. It has been implemented, and it has damaged the nation: the question now under discussion is just how much.

George Osborne looking at wheels. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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