Are the Tories tipping into anti-business rhetoric?

The government announces more regulation business won't like.

This announcement was always going to be tricky for a Conservative prime minister to make. The relationship between the Conservatives and the business community is stronger and longer established and runs much deeper than the marriage of convenience between business (and the City especially) and New Labour, and stronger than that with the LibDems. While the Labour Party continues to try hard to re-engage and woo business leaders (its top team were out in force at a Labour Party business reception earlier this week, including the one-man charm machine that is shadow business secretary Chuka Umunna) it still has a long way to go.

The Conservatives on the other have been trying to juggle keeping business onside with not being seen to be too cosy with such natural allies as large corporate donors and wealthy business leaders. This balancing act partly explains both the prime minister and his chancellor making so much noise about anti-tax abuse regulations.

At an awards dinner recently one senior FTSE100 executive told me he was fearful that all the aggressive government rhetoric on tax was in danger of tipping into anti-business rhetoric. He was appalled by what he felt was precisely the opposite of the sort of language he expected from a Conservative prime minister, even one leading a coalition government.

The lobbying debate got even more heated when another announcement – that plans to force cigarette brands to adopt generic packaging were to be shelved – was linked to alleged lobbying activities of Conservative Party strategist Lynton Crosby (whose firm counts tobacco giant Philip Morris among its clients).

The rights and wrongs of who asked for what favours from which politicians (which is essentially what lobbying is) matters less than the message the whole affair sends out. While the boisterous, point-scoring politics of Prime Minister’s Questions is a bit of noise and we can enjoy the “banter” of David Cameron being called “the prime minister for Benson and hedge funds” Ed Miliband being accused (again) of sitting “in the pocket of the unions”, these stories continue to undermine public trust and confidence in both politicians and business.

Trust is already at a something of a premium, following the financial crisis. The recession may have been caused more by a reckless few financiers than the business community per se, but for much of the public there isn’t that much to distinguish bankers from big business. It’s a problem business secretary Vince Cable started the week trying to address. He launched a consultation paper at the London Stock Exchange called Trust and Transparency, which proposes a whole raft of measures on areas ranging from beneficial ownership (much of which was announced at the G8 Summit earlier in the summer) right through to a much-needed review of the system for pre-pack administrations.

Cable launched the paper in the City because many of the current problems with trust started in the Square Mile during the financial crisis. As Cable said, there has been “a seemingly endless succession of mis-selling and price-rigging scandals; and accusations of greed and unethical behaviour against leading figures in the industry.”

It’s no surprise that this year’s Edelman Trust Barometer found that UK banking scores some of the lowest trust scores for any sector in any country.

The problem with any trust is that it takes a long time to build, is shattered in an instant and takes even longer to rebuild. If the public mistrusted the relationship between business and politics in 2008 it is not surprising the only thing that has changed since then is that the sense of mistrust and the outrage have grown.

Politicians need to be seen to be tackling these problems and as much as businesses won’t like it, that always means more regulation. Cable is right to introduce measures to give investors more power to influence executive pay. While the details of plans to introduce a register of the beneficial owners and detailed issues such as bearer shares will not be raised by the public when politicians start pounding pavements at the next election, it is essential the public understands that politicians and the business community are taking steps to put their respective houses in order. Without that trust will never be restored.

This piece first appeared on economia.

Photograph: Getty Images

Richard Cree is the Editor of Economia.

Keystone/Hulton Archive/Getty Images
Show Hide image

What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war