Bad news for Hollande as austerity bites

Hollande's focus on cutting deficits with revenues hasn't saved him from the downsides.

The French economy is on the rocks, in a move which threatens to derail president Hollande's economic reforms. The Observer's Kim Willsher reports:

The French leader has been hit by soaring unemployment figures, further factory closures and job losses, and plummeting popularity on top of growing fears that he and his Socialist government are failing to address the country's problems. Members of the opposition right-of-centre UMP have accused them of being "amateurs".

The news is bad, both for Hollande, and for proponents of revenue-side austerity. It is probably too soon to write-off the effects of the controversial 70 per cent tax rate – the pernicious effects of which are supposedly flight of high-net-worth individuals, rather than just a retardation of growth per se – but at the same time, it is clear that Hollande's agenda is, at best, no better than Sarkozy's was.

Despite the unpopularity of those revenue-raising measures amongst the economic elite, a meeting with members of various international organisations today – including the IMF and OECD – will reportedly focus on supply-side reforms "to improve France's competitiveness on the world market and restore confidence at home and abroad". The French labour market, with its ring-fenced working hours, worker protections, and strong unions, is frequently seen as being counter-productive to economic health.

The other major reason why the OECD and IMF are unlikely to press too hard on the question of high marginal tax rates is that, despite the fact that it has led to Hollande's government being seen as a standard-bearer for the left, they still fit very strongly into the narrative of "austerity".

The socialist government has made much the same pledges to be "realistic about the deficit" and practice "fiscal restraint" as we are used to hearing from all the parties in the UK. Where it has differed is in the method by which it has tried to reduce the deficit, focusing on increasing revenue rather than decreasing spending.

While this has driven some economists, like GWU's Veronique de Rugy, mad, it is a perfectly fair application of the principles behind austerity. What it also does, though, is expose the contradictions between those who genuinely desire to reduce deficits, pay down debt and "win the confidence of bond markets", and those who have used those as a convenient excuse to argue for shrinking the state.

Whether-or-not revenue-based austerity is as effective as spending-based austerity, however, it is clear that both are austerity. To those who have argued that, in a recession characterised by depressed consumer confidence and low aggregate demand, the state needs to temporarily push for deficit-funded spending, the bad economic news for France is yet more evidence in favour.

François Hollande. Photograph: Getty Images

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

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood