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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Find the EU renegotiation demands dull? Me too – but they are important

It's an old trick: smother anything in enough jargon and you can avoid being held accountable for it.

I don’t know about you, but I found the details of Britain’s European Union renegotiation demands quite hard to read. Literally. My eye kept gliding past them, in an endless quest for something more interesting in the paragraph ahead. It was as if the word “subsidiarity” had been smeared in grease. I haven’t felt tedium quite like this since I read The Lord of the Rings and found I slid straight past anything written in italics, reasoning that it was probably another interminable Elvish poem. (“The wind was in his flowing hair/The foam about him shone;/Afar they saw him strong and fair/Go riding like a swan.”)

Anyone who writes about politics encounters this; I call it Subclause Syndrome. Smother anything in enough jargon, whirr enough footnotes into the air, and you have a very effective shield for protecting yourself from accountability – better even than gutting the Freedom of Information laws, although the government seems quite keen on that, too. No wonder so much of our political conversation ends up being about personality: if we can’t hope to master all the technicalities, the next best thing is to trust the person to whom we have delegated that job.

Anyway, after 15 cups of coffee, three ice-bucket challenges and a bottle of poppers I borrowed from a Tory MP, I finally made it through. I didn’t feel much more enlightened, though, because there were notable omissions – no mention, thankfully, of rolling back employment protections – and elsewhere there was a touching faith in the power of adding “language” to official documents.

One thing did stand out, however. For months, we have been told that it is a terrible problem that migrants from Europe are sending child benefit to their families back home. In future, the amount that can be claimed will start at zero and it will reach full whack only after four years of working in Britain. Even better, to reduce the alleged “pull factor” of our generous in-work benefits regime, the child benefit rate will be paid on a ratio calculated according to average wages in the home country.

What a waste of time. At the moment, only £30m in child benefit is sent out of the country each year: quite a large sum if you’re doing a whip round for a retirement gift for a colleague, but basically a rounding error in the Department for Work and Pensions budget.

Only 20,000 workers, and 34,000 children, are involved. And yet, apparently, this makes it worth introducing 28 different rates of child benefit to be administered by the DWP. We are given to understand that Iain Duncan Smith thinks this is barmy – and this is a man optimistic enough about his department’s computer systems to predict in 2013 that 4.46 million people would be claiming Universal Credit by now*.

David Cameron’s renegotiation package was comprised exclusively of what Doctor Who fans call handwavium – a magic substance with no obvious physical attributes, which nonetheless helpfully advances the plot. In this case, the renegotiation covers up the fact that the Prime Minister always wanted to argue to stay in Europe, but needed a handy fig leaf to do so.

Brace yourself for a sentence you might not read again in the New Statesman, but this makes me feel sorry for Chris Grayling. He and other Outers in the cabinet have to wait at least two weeks for Cameron to get the demands signed off; all the while, Cameron can subtly make the case for staying in Europe, while they are bound to keep quiet because of collective responsibility.

When that stricture lifts, the high-ranking Eurosceptics will at last be free to make the case they have been sitting on for years. I have three strong beliefs about what will happen next. First, that everyone confidently predicting a paralysing civil war in the Tory ranks is doing so more in hope than expectation. Some on the left feel that if Labour is going to be divided over Trident, it is only fair that the Tories be split down the middle, too. They forget that power, and patronage, are strong solvents: there has already been much muttering about low-level blackmail from the high command, with MPs warned about the dire influence of disloyalty on their career prospects.

Second, the Europe campaign will feature large doses of both sides solemnly advising the other that they need to make “a positive case”. This will be roundly ignored. The Remain team will run a fear campaign based on job losses, access to the single market and “losing our seat at the table”; Leave will run a fear campaign based on the steady advance of whatever collective noun for migrants sounds just the right side of racist. (Current favourite: “hordes”.)

Third, the number of Britons making a decision based on a complete understanding of the renegotiation, and the future terms of our membership, will be vanishingly small. It is simply impossible to read about subsidiarity for more than an hour without lapsing into a coma.

Yet, funnily enough, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Just as the absurd complexity of policy frees us to talk instead about character, so the onset of Subclause Syndrome in the EU debate will allow us to ask ourselves a more profound, defining question: what kind of country do we want Britain to be? Polling suggests that very few of us see ourselves as “European” rather than Scottish, or British, but are we a country that feels open and looks outwards, or one that thinks this is the best it’s going to get, and we need to protect what we have? That’s more vital than any subclause. l

* For those of you keeping score at home, Universal Credit is now allegedly going to be implemented by 2021. Incidentally, George Osborne has recently discovered that it’s a great source of handwavium; tax credit cuts have been postponed because UC will render such huge savings that they aren’t needed.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle