Real wages down and unemployment stubbornly high, but could that be good news?

Unemployment's fall has stopped, but that could signal a recovery in productivity.

The ONS has released the latest labour market statistics, showing a 0.2 percentage point decline in the unemployment rate to 7.8 per cent in the last three months (2.51 million unemployed people, down by 57,000 people). The employment rate, however, was also down by 0.1 percentage points to 71.4 per cent over the same period (29.71 million employed people, up by 17,000 people).

Other headline stats show long term unemployment increasing by 15,000 to the highest level since 1996, youth unemployment decreasing by 0.2 percentage points to 20.9 per cent, and total pay increasing by 1.7 per cent, leading to a 1 per cent decrease in real wages.

As you can see from the first graph above, the quarter-on-quarter fall in unemployment is largely reversing the rise that was reported this spring. If you look at the month-on-month statistics, designated as "experimental" by the ONS due to their habit of fluctuating fairly wildly, we can see that unemployment was down by slightly over half a percentage point since April.

That's important, because it adds further support to the theory that the long-term improvement in the labour market has been replaced by stagnation. Economics reporters tend to focus on the fact that unemployment is down from a high of 8.4 per cent, even against a background of stagnant GDP. And indeed, for over a year, that decline was nearly constant. But the unemployment rate hit a low in December of last year, and since then it has been fluctuating in the high sevens.

That's bad news for Cameron and Osborne, because falling unemployment was frequently used as a fig leaf to cover the atrocious GDP growth. All the signs indicate that next week's GDP figures will be good, but they may not be good enough.

But it might paradoxically be good news for the country. The disconnect between employment and growth was due to productivity in Britain plummeting. In simple terms, a British worker doing an hour's work simply wasn't producing as much value after the recession as they were before. There's a lot of theories as to why, ranging from low morale and lazy workers to insipid investment and low demand, but regardless of why, they all point to the same conclusion: if GDP is to properly take off, productivity has to recover. The hope is that slowing decline in unemployment could be because the recovery is coming to productivity; and our catch-up growth might finally be around the corner.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Show Hide image

Leader: The angry middle

As a sense of victimhood extends even to the middle classes, it makes Western democracies much more difficult to govern.

Two months after the United Kingdom’s vote to leave the European Union, it remains conventional wisdom that the referendum result was largely a revolt by the so-called left behind. Yet this is not the full picture. Many of the 52 per cent who voted Leave were relatively prosperous and well educated, yet still angry and determined to deliver a shock to the political system. We should ask ourselves why the English middle class, for so long presumed to be placid and risk-averse, was prepared to gamble on Brexit.

Populism has long appealed to those excluded from political systems, or from a share in prosperity. In recent years, however, its appeal has broadened to young graduates and those on above-average incomes who also feel that they have not benefited from globalisation. The sense of middle-class victimhood has become a major strand in Western politics.

In the United States, middle-class anger has powered support for Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump. The former drew his activist base mostly from young liberals. And while Mr Trump’s success in the Republican primaries was often attributed to a working-class insurrection against “the elites”, exit poll data showed that the median yearly income of a Trump voter was $72,000, compared with a national average of $56,000. (For supporters of Hillary Clinton, the figure was roughly $61,000.) It is not the have-nots who have powered Mr Trump’s rise, but the have-a-bits.

In the UK, similar forces can be seen in the rise of Jeremy Corbyn. Indeed, research shows that three-quarters of Labour Party members are from the top social grades, known as ABC1. About 57 per cent have a degree.

Mr Sanders, Mr Trump and Mr Corbyn have very different policies, ideologies and strategies, but they are united by an ability to tap into middle-class dissatisfaction with the present order. Some of that anger flows from politicians’ failure to convey the ways in which society has improved in recent years, or to speak truthfully to electorates. In the UK and much of the West, there have been huge gains – life expectancy has risen, absolute poverty has decreased, teenage pregnancy has fallen to a record low, crime rates have fallen, and huge strides have been made in curbing gender, sexual and racial discrimination. Yet we hear too little of these successes.

Perhaps that is why so many who are doing comparatively well seem the most keen to upset the status quo. For instance, pensioners voted strongly to leave the EU and are the demographic from which Ukip attracts most support. Yet the over-65s are enjoying an era of unprecedented growth in their real incomes. Since 2010, the basic state pension has risen by over four times the increase in average earnings. 

Among young people, much of their anger is directed towards tuition fees and the iniquities of the housing market. Yet, by definition, tuition fees are paid only by those who go into higher education – and these people receive a “graduate bonus” for the rest of their lives. Half of school-leavers do not attend university and, in a globalised world, it is their wages that are most likely to be undercut by immigration.

However, we should not be complacent about the concerns of the “angry middle”. The resentment exploited by Donald Trump is the result of 40 years of stagnant median wages in the United States. In Japan and Germany, median wages have not increased in the past two decades. In the UK, meanwhile, the median income for those aged 31-59 is no greater than it was in 2007, and those aged 22-30 are 7 per cent worse off, according to the Institute for Fiscal Studies.

To compound the problem, the wealthy keep getting wealthier. In 1980, American CEOs were paid 42 times the wage of the average worker. They are now paid 400 times as much. In the UK, the share of household income going to the top 1 per cent has more than doubled since 1979. Because of our hyperconnected, globalised media culture, we see more of the super-rich, fuelling feelings of resentment.

As a sense of victimhood extends even to the middle classes, it makes Western democracies much more difficult to govern, with voters oscillating between populists of the left and the right. The political centre is hollowing out. Rather than pander to the populists, we must do more to quell the politics of victimhood by addressing the root of this corrosive sense of grievance: entrenched inequality. 

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser