Is the double-dip no more? Does it matter?

Maybe, and no. No it does not.

Last Friday, the ONS revised its estimates of the size of British construction output over 2012. It now thinks that the construction sector shrank by 5 per cent in the first quarter of that year, compared to the 5.4 per cent contraction it had previously estimated. (Although that's good news, the picture is less rosy for the other three quarters of the year, which were all revised downwards.)

That upward revision would be enough to bring the overall growth figure for Q1 2012 to exactly zero; hence the Saturday Mail story dubbing it "The double-dip that never was! Osborne gets a surprise boost as 'growth' was 0.0% rather than -0.1%".

There are two things to say at this point. Firstly, the nitpicking: the ONS is also due to announce the latest revisions to the service sector on the 23rd of this month (estimates for production, the third main component, were published on the 9th). Those revisions could be in either direction, and, given the size of services in the overall economy, it would not take a large downward swing to wipe out the "gains" from production. So it's too early to say for certain that the double-dip has been erased.

But the broader point is that it does not matter, and has never mattered, whether the economy grew by 0.1 per cent, didn't grow, or shrank by 0.1 per cent. What is important is that Britain has stagnated for the better part of two years running now. Anaemic growth is just as bad as a mild recession – and in some ways worse, because while a recession may be expected to spring back into recovery at some point, stagnation can last for decades. Just ask Japan.

That's the reason I've focused on the description of our economy as "corrugated". We focus so much on the ups and downs, with cheers alternating on either side of the aisle, that we neglect to take a step back and look at what the overall trend is. The fact that the economy was precisely stagnant in the first quarter of 2012 doesn't change that trend for the better; it makes it overwhelmingly clear that stagnation remains the reality we live in.

Of course, some will claim that this revision matters anyway, because it means that we never had the technical recession which garnered so much bad press last year. But – you can guess where this is going – technical recessions are an alarmingly misleading thing to focus on in an economic environment like ours. Because, again, in a corrugated economy, whether a particular consecutive pair of quarters displays slightly negative growth is basically down to chance. What is not down to chance is the overall pattern.

This is what our economy looks like, right now:

Until and unless that flat black line stops being quite so astonishingly flat, there is little to celebrate. Arguing about the size of the kinks within it is little more than trivia.

A construction site. The sector's performance in 2012 was revised up, causing some to dismiss the double dip recession. 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.

Photo: Getty
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The UK press’s timid reaction to Brexit is in marked contrast to the satire unleashed on Trump

For the BBC, it seems, to question leaving the EU is to be unpatriotic.

Faced with arguably their biggest political-cum-constitutional ­crisis in half a century, the press on either side of the pond has reacted very differently. Confronting a president who, unlike many predecessors, does not merely covertly dislike the press but rages against its supposed mendacity as a purveyor of “fake news”, the fourth estate in the US has had a pretty successful first 150-odd days of the Trump era. The Washington Post has recovered its Watergate mojo – the bloodhound tenacity that brought down Richard Nixon. The Post’s investigations into links between the Kremlin and Donald Trump’s associates and appointees have yielded the scalp of the former security adviser Michael Flynn and led to Attorney General Jeff Sessions recusing himself from all inquiries into Trump-Russia contacts. Few imagine the story will end there.

Meanwhile, the New York Times has cast off its image as “the grey lady” and come out in sharper colours. Commenting on the James Comey memo in an editorial, the Times raised the possibility that Trump was trying to “obstruct justice”, and called on Washington lawmakers to “uphold the constitution”. Trump’s denunciations of the Times as “failing” have acted as commercial “rocket fuel” for the paper, according to its CEO, Mark Thompson: it gained an “astonishing” 308,000 net digital news subscriptions in the first quarter of 2017.

US-based broadcast organisations such as CNN and ABC, once considered slick or bland, have reacted to Trump’s bullying in forthright style. Political satire is thriving, led by Saturday Night Live, with its devastating impersonations of the president by Alec Baldwin and of his press secretary Sean Spicer by the brilliant Melissa McCarthy.

British press reaction to Brexit – an epic constitutional, political and economic mess-up that probably includes a mind-bogglingly destructive self-ejection from a single market and customs union that took decades to construct, a move pushed through by a far-right faction of the Tory party – has been much more muted. The situation is complicated by the cheerleading for Brexit by most of the British tabloids and the Daily Telegraph. There are stirrings of resistance, but even after an election in which Theresa May spectacularly failed to secure a mandate for her hard Brexit, there is a sense, though the criticism of her has been intense, of the media pussy-footing around a government in disarray – not properly interrogating those who still seem to promise that, in relation to Europe, we can have our cake and eat it.

This is especially the case with the BBC, a state broadcaster that proudly proclaims its independence from the government of the day, protected by the famous “arm’s-length” principle. In the case of Brexit, the BBC invoked its concept of “balance” to give equal airtime and weight to Leavers and Remainers. Fair enough, you might say, but according to the economist Simon Wren-Lewis, it ignored a “near-unanimous view among economists that Brexit would hurt the UK economy in the longer term”.

A similar view of “balance” in the past led the BBC to equate views of ­non-scientific climate contrarians, often linked to the fossil-fuel lobby, with those of leading climate scientists. Many BBC Remainer insiders still feel incensed by what they regard as BBC betrayal over Brexit. Although the referendum of 23 June 2016 said nothing about leaving the single market or the customs union, the Today presenter Justin Webb, in a recent interview with Stuart Rose, put it like this: “Staying in the single market, staying in the customs union – [Leave voters would say] you might as well not be leaving. That fundamental position is a matter of democracy.” For the BBC, it seems, to question Brexit is somehow to be unpatriotic.

You might think that an independent, pro-democratic press would question the attempted use of the arcane and archaic “royal prerogative” to enable the ­bypassing of parliament when it came to triggering Article 50, signalling the UK’s departure from the EU. But when the campaigner Gina Miller’s challenge to the government was upheld by the high court, the three ruling judges were attacked on the front page of the Daily Mail as “enemies of the people”. Thomas Jefferson wrote that he would rather have “newspapers without a government” than “a government without newspapers”. It’s a fair guess he wasn’t thinking of newspapers that would brand the judiciary as “enemies of the people”.

It does seem significant that the United States has a written constitution, encapsulating the separation and balance of powers, and explicitly designed by the Founding Fathers to protect the young republic against tyranny. When James Madison drafted the First Amendment he was clear that freedom of the press should be guaranteed to a much higher degree in the republic than it had been in the colonising power, where for centuries, after all, British monarchs and prime ministers have had no qualms about censoring an unruly media.

By contrast, the United Kingdom remains a hybrid of monarchy and democracy, with no explicit protection of press freedom other than the one provided by the common law. The national impulse to bend the knee before the sovereign, to obey and not question authority, remains strangely powerful in Britain, the land of Henry VIII as well as of George Orwell. That the United Kingdom has slipped 11 places in the World Press Freedom Index in the past four years, down to 40th, has rightly occasioned outrage. Yet, even more awkwardly, the United States is three places lower still, at 43rd. Freedom of the press may not be doing quite as well as we imagine in either country.

Harry Eyres is the author of Horace and Me: Life Lessons from an Ancient Poet (2013)

This article first appeared in the 20 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The new world disorder