Goldman Sachs’ boss Lloyd Blankfein says we must stick with austerity

Enough to make you weep.

You wonder if George Osborne’s tears at Margaret Thatcher’s funeral were as much to do with sorrow at having adopted her not for turning mantle, as regret at the passing of a political hero who didn’t feel the need to speak estuary to up her popularity ratings.

Today you wonder whether the tears are flowing more copiously, or have just dried up in resignation on hearing from Goldman Sachs’ boss Lloyd Blankfein, sitting comfortably atop first quarter profits of £1.47bn (1.2% of UK government borrowing in 2012), that Osborne is stuck with his austerity approach, like it or lump it.

Talk about a rock and a hard place.  Speaking on Radio 4’s Today Programme, Blankfein fundamentally concurred with the conclusions of IMF chief economist Olivier Blanchard last week, and the thinking behind the decisions of first Moody’s and latterly Fitch to downgrade the UK’s triple A credit rating.  If the country’s efforts to escape the downturn are to not to continue to resemble those of a spider climbing out of the bath, it needs an economic plan B.

“You would like it at this part of the cycle not to cut, to push out austerity and not to shrink the economy,” said Blankfein.  But, tough, he added. That course is only permitted to countries, which have done their housekeeping, balanced the books and not cranked up an enormous deficit, otherwise the markets will react badly.

“If you have a big deficit, you lose optionality,” said Blankfein. “The choices get taken away from you.”

So no chance then of that preferable loosening of the purse strings to let the economy breathe. Instead, continued snail-paced growth, with the likelihood of the further credit rating downgrades that entails, followed, in turn, by probable higher government borrowing costs and, consequently, even less flexibility for pump priming business and industry.

Reading between Mr Blankfein’s lines, businesses, especially small to medium-sized ones (SMEs), can’t expect the banks to stump up much more of the cash that government can’t provide either. The reason? They’re frightened, poor loves.

“Businesses are starving for cash and banks have cash idle, but they’re afraid, for want of a better word,” said Blankfein. And he understood their anxiety, he added, uttering the words you probably wouldn’t expect or hope to hear from a Jedi master among masters of the universe; that “lending money to businesses is one of the riskiest things you can do”.

Goldman Sachs, however, does a little something for the small business community. It won’t lend them the cash they’re starving for (they’re way too small and it’s way too frightening), but it will teach them new skills. Blankfein is over here to talk up and talk about his company’s programme for improving the general business nous of SMEs and “professionalising” them, an international offshoot of its USA 10,000 Small Businesses scheme.

Participating businesses in the UK do rate the initiative. But facing flat demand in a stagnating economy, those SMEs which have seen their or their customers’ credit ratings cut by the banks are likely to utter a hollow laugh, or shed an Osborne like tear, at any suggestion that such projects are going to do much to lift their or the UK’s fortunes in the near future. 

Lloyd Blankfein Photograph: Getty Images

Mike Jeffree edits the Timber Trades Journal.

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Daniel Hannan harks back to the days of empire - the Angevin Empire

Did the benign rule of some 12th century English kings make western France vote Macron over Le Pen?

I know a fair amount about British politics; I know a passable amount about American politics, too. But, as with so many of my fellow Britons, in the world beyond that, I’m lost.

So how are we, the monolingual Anglophone opinionators of the world, meant to interpret a presidential election in a country where everyone is rude enough to conduct all their politics in French?

Luckily, here’s Daniel Hannan to help us:

I suppose we always knew Dan still got a bit misty eyed at the notion of the empire. I just always thought it was the British Empire, not the Angevin one, that tugged his heartstrings so.

So what exactly are we to make of this po-faced, historically illiterate, geographically illiterate, quite fantastically stupid, most Hannan-y Hannan tweet of all time?

One possibility is that this was meant as a serious observation. Dan is genuinely saying that the parts of western France ruled by Henry II and sons in the 12th century – Brittany, Normandy, Anjou, Poitou, Aquitaine – remain more moderate than those to the east, which were never graced with the touch of English greatness. This, he is suggesting, is why they generally voted for Emmanuel Macron over Marine Le Pen.

There are a number of problems with this theory. The first is that it’s bollocks. Western France was never part of England – it remained, indeed, a part of a weakened kingdom of France. In some ways it would be more accurate to say that what really happened in 1154 was that some mid-ranking French nobles happened to inherit the English Crown.

Even if you buy the idea that England is the source of all ancient liberties (no), western France is unlikely to share its political culture, because it was never a part of the same polity: the two lands just happened to share a landlord for a while.

As it happens, they didn’t even share it for very long. By 1215, Henry’s youngest son John had done a pretty good job of losing all his territories in France, so that was the end of the Angevins. The English crown reconquered  various bits of France over the next couple of centuries, but, as you may have noticed, it hasn’t been much of a force there for some time now.

At any rate: while I know very little of French politics, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess the similarities between yesterday's electoral map and the Angevin Empire were a coincidence. I'm fairly confident that there have been other factors which have probably done more to shape the French political map than a personal empire that survived for the length of one not particularly long human life time 800 years ago. Some wars. Industrialisation. The odd revolution. You know the sort of thing.

If Daniel Hannan sucks at history, though, he also sucks at geography, since chunks of territory which owed fealty to the English crown actually voted Le Pen. These include western Normandy; they also include Calais, which remained English territory for much longer than any other part of France. This seems rather to knacker Hannan’s thesis.

So: that’s one possibility, that all this was an attempt to make serious point; but, Hannan being Hannan, it just happened to be a quite fantastically stupid one.

The other possibility is that he’s taking the piss. It’s genuinely difficult to know.

Either way, he instantly deleted the tweet. Because he realised we didn’t get the joke? Because he got two words the wrong way round? Because he realised he didn’t know where Calais was?

We’ll never know for sure. I’d ask him but, y’know, blocked.

UPDATE: Breaking news from the frontline of the internet: 

It. Was. A. Joke.

My god. He jokes. He makes light. He has a sense of fun.

This changes everything. I need to rethink my entire world view. What if... what if I've been wrong, all this time? What if Daniel Hannan is in fact one of the great, unappreciated comic voices of our time? What if I'm simply not in on the joke?

What if... what if Brexit is actually... good?

Daniel, if you're reading this – and let's be honest, you are definitely reading this – I am so sorry. I've been misunderstanding you all this time.

I owe you a pint (568.26 millilitres).

Serious offer, by the way.

 

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.

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