At the US Federal Reserve, when is a threshold not a threshold? When it's an embarrassment

The Federal Open Market Committee is keen to hold fund rates in spite of falling unemployment. It's the first act of a newer, stricter committee.

Let’s take the Fed first. When is a threshold not a threshold? Answer: when it becomes an embarrassment.

With the unemployment rate plummeting towards the 6.5 per cent "threshold" touted by the Fed as the point at which it would consider rate increases, we were told in the statement released after their December meeting that the FOMC "now anticipates that the funds rate will be held unchanged until 'well past' the time that the unemployment rate has fallen below its 6.5 per cent threshold".

This was a meeting at which a majority in favour of just lowering the threshold to 6.0 per cent, or even 5.5 per cent, obviously couldn’t be found. Thank goodness. This is certainly a testament to the sagacity of the committee, as moving the goal posts so soon after they were inserted into the ground would have been seriously detrimental to the Fed’s credibility. What’s to say the threshold wouldn’t suddenly become 5 per cent, or even be abandoned completely when it was subsequently convenient?

We should bear in mind that in many ways this was the outgoing, dovish Fed’s final act, with Helicopter Ben at the helm (or the cyclic, I guess). The FOMC composition became distinctly more hawkish at the January meeting. No surprise then that the January meeting saw another $10bn reduction in QE and no lowering of thresholds.

My guess would be that by the March meeting several clouds that have been obscuring the health of the US economy, and hammering risk assets, will have blown over. I don’t feel that by any means all emerging markets will have escaped the cosh, but I do feel that we will have avoided widespread contagion, a la the 1997/8 Asian/Russian Crises, and that the pressure will be seen as contained and upon the most vulnerable - Argentina, Brazil, Turkey, South Africa, say, whereas key Asian nations will be relatively calm - India, China, Indonesia, Korea and Taiwan.

I do feel that headline US unemployment will be lower by then and that there will be a burgeoning realisation that we shouldn’t devalue that because of low participation rates. Widespread academic research has highlighted that a large proportion of the fall in participation rates has been caused by demographics - to somewhat over-simplify, baby boomer retirees - and is not going to race back up cyclically. Finally, US economic data will finally be free of both government shutdown and weather distortions, and looking very healthy.

Here in the UK, the BOE faces a very similar dilemma and Wednesday’s release of the Bank's Quarterly Inflation Report (QIR) will surely unveil tweeks to forward guidance. As in the US, unemployment is crashing, and last week’s January UK Services PMI Reading, although only a tad lower at 58.3, from 58.8 in Dec, boasted sub-components that still made excellent reading, with the key employment index moving higher, along with the outstanding business index which, at 55.3, stands at its high since 1997. At this rate Q1 growth is looking like 1.0 per cent qoq.

I do not expect the QIR to announce a reduction in the unemployment threshold to 6.5 per cent, say, but I do expect to see a nod to other metrics, such as wage and productivity growth. There must also be a 25 per cent chance that they take a leaf out of the Fed's book and introduce a version of the Summary of Economic Projections, with a record of individual MPC members' views on the future path of the Bank's Base Rate. In short, RIP forward guidance, long live old-style insight into the MPC's thinking and reaction function.

Janet Yellen, Chair of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System. Photograph: Getty Images.

Chairman of  Saxo Capital Markets Board

An Honours Graduate from Oxford University, Nick Beecroft has over 30 years of international trading experience within the financial industry, including senior Global Markets roles at Standard Chartered Bank, Deutsche Bank and Citibank. Nick was a member of the Bank of England's Foreign Exchange Joint Standing Committee.

More of his work can be found here.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times