Ben Bernanke is caged like a hamster

...while the Japanese roam free.

The mice are taunting Clementine, our hamster. Clementine spends her whole life gripping the bars of her cage and peering out whilst waiting for the brief time she is allowed to run around in her plastic ball each day. Our free-roaming mouse invaders have taken to standing on the edge of her cage flicking two claws at her and generally behaving like they are in Newcastle on a Friday night. Their relative positions of freedom just increase Clementine’s anguish.

It’s the sort of relationship that reminds me of the caged Ben Bernanke, chair of the US Federal Reserve and the free-roaming Bank of Japan’s Haruhiko Kuroda. America has spent the last 4 years pursuing a policy of quantitative easing, essentially a support programme that involves pumping money into the economy and which has resulted in growth this year of around 2 per cent. The Japanese, by contrast, announced a QE policy in December and have already produced annualized growth of 4 per cent. The US must feel like Clementine does – mocked and helpless; 2 per cent growth seems a meagre reward given the trouble it has caused.

At a recent grilling on Capitol Hill, Bernanke was asked whether the Fed’s quantitative easing program at $3trn had gone too far. He retorted, in words to this effect, “If you think that’s big, take a look at the Japanese…” What Bernanke is talking about is that although the scale of the Japanese target, ¥270trn or $2.6trn in today’s money, is close to the Fed in absolute terms, if you put it into the context of the relative sizes of the two economies, it is truly colossal. To match the Japanese, the Americans would have to put an astonishing $7trn into the US system, which is close to 50 per cent of US nominal GDP.  It’s enough to make you spit your sushi out.

But for America the real question is about the quality of their recovery and what the next downturn looks like. America needs jobs but not any old jobs; they need to be permanent. The measure of unemployment that includes part-time workers shows that over 13 per cent of the US is under-employed because of part-time working. Compare that to unemployment and the measure of part-time work is about 7 per cent of the working population. At the same time the bonus culture that first showed up in the 1970’s is so deeply entrenched that, to this day, about 20per cent of American’s total take home pay is variable whilst the proportion that workers are taking home of company profits has dropped to below 50 per cent. Back in the late-1920’s this was 68 per cent. No wonder Jay Gatsby threw a party.

If you take these factors together then what you find is that the combination of variable pay and uncertain employment means that US growth could be subject to vicious variability. Given that about 65 per cent of the GDP in the US is consumer spending you understand that at the heart of the US economy there is now a level of uncertainty never seen before. Effectively America needs a permanent pay rise and the transfer of profits from owners to workers. But neither of these things is going to happen whilst global competition makes the west look generous on pay and people who place their capital at risk need to be rewarded. So making policy in an economy with an unstable beating heart will remain is a high-risk game.

Head of Fixed Income and Macro, Old Mutual Global Investors

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

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.