IMF: Britain should consider "flexibility" in Plan A

"Consideration should be given to greater near-term flexibility in the fiscal adjustment path."

The IMF has cut its forecasts of UK GDP growth in 2013 and 2014 by 0.3 percentage points for each year, to 0.7 and 1.5 per cent respectively. The figure for 2013 is still 0.1pp above the OBR's own forecast for 2013, but where the OBR sees growth picking up rapidly – rising to 1.8 per cent in 2014, and then 2.8 per cent by 2018  the IMF is predicting a slower recovery.

The predictions come from the Fund's World Economic Outlook, its biannual publication looking at the global economic situation. Writing about the UK, the WEO says;

The recovery is progressing slowly, notably in the context of weak external demand and ongoing fiscal consolidation… Domestic rebalancing from the public to the private sector is being held back by deleveraging, tight credit conditions and economic uncertainty, while declining productivity growth and high unit labour costs are holding back much needed external rebalancing…
Consideration should be given to greater near-term flexibility in the fiscal adjustment path.

Merely calling for "consideration" to be given – rather than a demand for immediate "flexibility in the fiscal adjustment path" – provides an out, of sorts, for the Government. Expect to hear the chancellor confirming that he has "considered" the IMF's advice, but decided not to act on it, due to (something). Indeed, the FT cites Treasury sources already spinning the news, claiming the word choice "showed the fund was still sitting on the fence."

But as the Guardian reports, Oliver Blanchard, the Fund's Chief economist, did tell a press conference in the US today that:

The IMF would hold talks with the UK government in the coming months, to "see what can be done" about the pace of deficit reduction.
"In the face of very weak private demand it is time to consider adjustment to the original fiscal plan," Blanchard explained.

The WEO was more positive about the monetary side of the chancellor's record. Although it cautions that the Bank of England may find it hard to unwind the positions it has taken throughout four years of QE, which might force it to face significant trade-offs when it comes to fighting inflation in the future, it also praises the overall strategy of "monetary activism with fiscal responsibility and supply side reform".

That advice goes against the intervention of former MPC member Adam Posen, who today warned of the limits of Mark Carney's potential as Bank of England governor. But it gives Osborne enough cover to struggle on for a while longer.

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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Wrists, knees, terrible rages – I felt overwhelmed when Barry came to see me

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state.

To begin with, it seemed that Barry’s wrists were the problem. He told me about the pain he was experiencing, the pins and needles that came and went in his hands. I started to examine him. His palms were calloused, his fingers thick and stubby, veterans of the heavy work he’d undertaken throughout his 57 years. Even as I assessed this first problem, he mentioned his knees. I moved on to look at those. Then it was his back. I couldn’t get to grips with one thing before he veered to the next.

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state. Barry was making me feel overwhelmed, the more so as I learned that he’d been experiencing all these problems for years.

“Why are you coming to see me about them now,” I asked, “rather than six months ago – or in six months’ time?”

“I need some time off, doc.”

There was something about the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. And again, that feeling of being overwhelmed.

“What’s going on at work?” I asked him.

His tone hardened as he told me how he’d lost his temper a couple of days earlier. How one of the others had been winding him up, and something inside him had snapped, and he’d taken a swing at his workmate and landed a punch.

Barry had walked out and hadn’t been back. I tried to find out if he’d heard from his boss about the incident, if he knew what was likely to happen next.

He told me he didn’t care.

We talked some more. I learned that he’d been uncharacteristically short-tempered for months; his partner was fed up with being shouted at. Sleep had gone to pot, and Barry had taken to drinking heavily to knock himself out at night. He was smoking twice his usual amount. Men like Barry often don’t experience depression as classic low mood and tearfulness; they become filled with rage and turn in on themselves, repelling those closest to them in the process.

Depression is a complex condition, with roots that can frequently be traced right back to childhood experiences, but bouts are often precipitated by problems with relationships, work, money, or health. In Barry’s case, the main factor turned out to be his job. He’d been an HGV driver but at the start of the year his company had lost its operator’s licence. To keep the business afloat, his boss had diversified. Barry hated what he now had to do. He was now a “catcher”.

I didn’t know what that meant. Getting up at the crack of dawn, he told me, driving to some factory farm somewhere, entering huge sheds and spending hours catching chickens, thousands upon thousands of them, shoving them into crates, stashing the crates on a lorry, working under relentless pressure to get the sheds cleared and the birds off to the next stage of the food production chain.

“It’s a young man’s game,” he told me. “It’s crippling me, all that bending and catching.”

It wasn’t really his joints, though. Men like Barry can find it hard to talk about difficult emotion, but it was there in his eyes. I had a sudden understanding: Barry, capturing bird after panicking bird, stuffing them into the transport containers, the air full of alarmed clucking and dislodged feathers. Hour after hour of it. It was traumatising him, but he couldn’t admit anything so poncey.

“I just want to get back to driving.”

That would mean landing a new job, and he doubted he would be able to do so, not at his age. He couldn’t take just any old work, either: he had to earn a decent wage to keep up with a still sizeable mortgage.

We talked about how antidepressants might improve his symptoms, and made a plan to tackle the alcohol. I signed him off to give him some respite and a chance to look for new work – the one thing that was going to resolve his depression. But in the meantime, he felt as trapped as the chickens that he cornered, day after soul-destroying day.

Phil Whitaker’s novel “Sister Sebastian’s Library” will be published by Salt in September

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt