Japan: "We'd never buy foreign bonds (we might buy foreign bonds)"

Abe puts the squeeze on the BoJ.

Even Japan has limits to what it will do in a currency war. The country's finance minister, Taro Aso, has confirmed that the nation has no plans to buy foreign bonds through the Bank of Japan.

The denial is a slight walking-back of the words of the Prime Minister Shinzo Abe last night, who noted — without saying what he actually thought on the subject — that "there are views calling for foreign-bond purchases".

Abe had been discussing the recently revised inflation mandate for the Bank of Japan in parliament when opposition MPs asked him what the bank is actually planning to do to back up its target. Without confirming any particular policy route, Abe named a number of potential unconventional measures, saying that "I hope the BoJ will take effective policy steps that would contribute to overcoming deflation."

The BoJ has every motivation to fight deflation; in the same debate, Abe threatened it with a change in law, saying:

It would be necessary to proceed with revising the BOJ law if the central bank cannot produce results under its own mandate.

While Abe has, for the most part, been content to let the Bank pick its own methods so long as it results in reflation, Aso's comments this morning imply there are limits. Bloomberg's Mayumi Otsuma puts the talking-back in context:

Economy Minister Akira Amari told reporters today that Abe’s comments referred to buying foreign bonds as a general policy idea that is available to any country.

It seems likely that the skittishness of the Japanese cabinet is related to the G20's stand on currency manipulation, which was finally clarified after last week's mild confusion. The group is definitely (maybe) against currency manipulation. And while much of what Japan is doing is clearly aimed at affecting the Yen in international markets, it's also capable of being viewed as simple unconventional monetary policy aimed at having a domestic effect. Buying foreign bonds would render that charade a lot harder to pull off, and could lead to some awkward conversations in Moscow this weekend.

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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Goodbye, Sam Allardyce: a grim portrait of national service

In being brought down by a newspaper sting, the former England manager joins a hall of infamy. 

It took the best part of 17 years for Glenn Hoddle’s reputation to recover from losing the England job.

Between leaving his job as manager in February 1999 and re-surfacing as a television pundit on ITV during the 2014 World Cup, Hoddle was English football’s great pariah. Thanks to his belief in faith healer Eileen Drewery and a string of unconventional and unacceptable views on reincarnation, he found himself in exile following in a newspaper interview during qualification for England’s Euro 2000 campaign.

But just as Hoddle is now cautiously being welcomed back to the bosom of English football, current incumbent Sam Allardyce has felt the axe fall. After less than two months in charge of the national side and with only a single game under his belt, the former Bolton Wanderers manager was caught up in a sting operation by the Daily Telegraph — allegedly offering guidance on how to circumvent his employer’s rules on third-party player ownership.

The rewards for guiding an English team to major international success promise to be spectacular. As a result, the price for any failure — either moral or performance-related — is extreme.

Hoddle’s successor – the endearing Kevin Keegan – resigned tearfully in a toilet at Wembley after a tumultuous 18-month spell in charge. His replacement, the laconic Sven-Göran Eriksson, provided moments of on-field excitement paired with incredible incidents of personal indiscretion. His tangle with "fake sheikh" Mazher Mahmood in the run up to the 2006 World Cup – an incident with haunting parallels to Allardyce’s current predicament – led to a mutual separation that summer.

Steve McClaren was hapless, if also incredibly unfortunate, and was dispatched from the top job in little over a year. Fabio Capello – who inspired so much optimism throughout his first two years in charge – proved himself incapable of lifting the hex on English major tournament fortunes.

The Italian’s star was falling from the moment he put his name to the oddly timed Capello Index in 2010, although his sustained backing of then captain John Terry over a string of personal misdemeanours would prove to be the misjudgement that ultimately forced his exit. As Allardyce has found out, the FA has become increasingly hard on lapses in moral judgement.

English football is suffused with a strange mix of entitlement and crushing self-doubt. After a decade that has given us a Wimbledon champion, several Ashes triumphs, two Tour de France winners and eye-watering Olympic success, a breakthrough in this area has never felt further away.

In replacing Capello, Roy Hodgson — the man mocked by Allardyce during his hours supping pints with Telegraph reporters — had hoped to put a rubber stamp on a highly respectable coaching career with a spell managing his own country. But this summer’s farcical defeat to Iceland at Euro 2016 put his previous career in a much harsher light.    

Allardyce was a mix of the best and worst of each of his predecessors. He was as gaffe-prone as Steve McClaren, yet as committed to football science and innovation as Hodgson or Capello. He also carried the affability of Keegan and the bulldog spirit of Terry Venables — the last man to make great strides for England at a major tournament.  

And as a result, his fall is the most heartbreaking of the lot. The unfairly decried charlatan of modern football is the same man who built a deeply underrated dynasty at Bolton before keeping Blackburn, West Ham and Sunderland afloat in the most competitive league in Europe.

And it was this hard apprenticeship that convinced the FA to defy the trendy naysayers and appoint him.

“I think we make mistakes when we are down here and our spirit has to come back and learn,” Hoddle mused at the beginning of his ill-fated 1999 interview. As the FA and Allardyce consider their exit strategy from this latest sorry mess, it’s difficult to be sure what either party will have learned.

The FA, desperately short of options could theoretically turn again to a reborn Hoddle. Allardyce, on the other hand, faces his own long exile. 

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