Cash in the attic: the City of London. Photograph: Getty Images.
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UK businesses have plenty of cash to spare, and they're spending it on the young

Companies are starting to use their cash balances in at least one useful way, to provide training programmes for able young people as an alternative to university.

Companies are awash with cash. They’ve been hoarding a war chest since the financial crisis hit in 2008. It has achieved ridiculous proportions; in the US and UK corporate bank balances have doubled in size, Japan has recently seen a spike while Europe has also built a buffer, if not to the extent of other regions. However the signs are that companies are beginning to deploy this money – especially in the UK.

There are the obvious things like share buy-backs, and mergers and acquisitions, that you can do with excess corporate money, but more encouragingly companies are beginning to think in a new way about the next generation of people working in their businesses. Increasingly, a new form of sponsorship is emerging. In moves not seen for a generation, companies such as the accountants Deloittes are hiring young people into their businesses as an alternative to going to university. Business is beginning to invest in young people, filling the gap left by universities that offer courses of doubtful relevance at prices that are just too high.

The general public is smart enough to detect the whiff of corporate insincerity in any charm offensive – tokenistic community-based projects will be seen through as box ticking Corporate Responsibility initiatives that offer little lasting relevance. Businesses will only truly “put something back” if given the right incentive to do so and there is nothing like the profit and cost motive to do that especially in the new era of shareholder activism. The Labour Party’s newly announced policy to “tax the bankers” to provide youth training schemes in that respect, once more, misses the mark. It misses the mood of the day, that there is a new dynamic at work that will see companies investing in young people because it makes business sense.

Sadly, the negativity towards business identified in The Trust Deficit: After the Crash by the research group Populus for the legal firm DLA Piper, is reinforced by mainstream economists like David Blanchflower and politicians like Ed Miliband. Writing in The Independent this week Blanchflower indulges himself in yet another populist diatribe which offers little except the tired observation that some people have more money than others and because of the way unemployment in this downturn has hit the non-graduate pay grades, the income gap between them and graduates has increased in the past five years.

What Miliband and Blanchflower both miss is that if pay structures in certain parts of the economy aren’t sustainable or aren’t valued then they won’t last – they will wither and die of their own accord. It does not need a tax – it does not need a law for that to happen. Besides, with the economy picking up, they are starting to sound somewhat behind the evidence. We don’t have an incomes policy and we don’t, thank goodness, have a limit on what any individual can earn in our country and long may that last. Treating the lawful activity of whoever it is in society who earns super-normal money (which in turn feeds the Exchequer) whether that is a footballer, pop star, entertainer, private company director, public company director or, yes I’m going to say it, a “banker” as immoral is an otiose argument which only has currency at the trough of the economic cycle. That moment has passed.

In a capitalist system, like ours, you will always have cycles. Capitalism is, in that sense, inherently unstable and liable to peaks and troughs – Karl Marx appreciated that. This requires the existence of a safety net to catch people when they fall. That is the implicit social contract we are involved in. But in this downswing a new part of the safety net has emerged – one which protects talented young people from the penalty of government education policies. It is one which will see companies deploying their cash reserves, taking on a positive role in shaping the next generation of workers by helping them over barriers to entry into higher earnings via education no matter their background. Getting the administration – and opposition – of the day to cooperate with and praise that idea is much more useful than replaying tired class war ideas that send the wrong messages to our young people about the possibilities of work and what business contributes to society.

Head of Fixed Income and Macro, Old Mutual Global Investors

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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