Politics muddies the waters of Scotland and the pound

It's simple, until it's not.

Simon Wren-Lewis digests the Treasury's report on the relationship an independent Scotland would have with sterling and the Bank of England (rUK is his shorthand for the UK excluding Scotland):

The real problem for Scotland is that, in forming a sterling currency union, it will be dealing with a government that thinks like Germany. What is worse, although Germany can sometimes be persuaded to go against its austerity instincts for the sake of European unity, after an independence vote rUK is unlikely to let its heart strings be pulled in a similar way! The problem for Scotland is that the rUK can provide something that in fact costs it very little, but the absence of which would cost Scotland a great deal, so rUK will be able to ask for a high price. Unless the new Scottish government is prepared to pay for a Bank of England LOLR role with some of its oil revenues, it may find it has nothing to bargain with. If no agreement can be found, the Treasury paper is quite right to conclude that using sterling unilaterally would not be attractive for Scotland. So rather than accept damaging fiscal restrictions, the new Scottish government may end up with its own currency after all.

George Osborne is right to present the Treasury's analysis as a stumbling block for the SNP, in other words; but he's slightly disingenuous in pretending that he has nothing to do with that fact.

As Wren-Lewis points out, politics muddies all waters. Normally, the study of Optimal Currency Areas is relatively simple: the more alike two countries are, the greater the benefits of having a shared currency, and the lesser the disbenefits. That's why the euro is such a startlingly bad idea on paper – there's basically no possible group of countries less economically, socially and politically coherent than the eurozone. And in in nations like rUK and Scotland, which are pretty damn similar, the whole deal comes down to one basic question: is the loss of flexibility of monetary policy a worthwhile cost to pay for those benefits?

But that assumes that there is any way a currency union between rUK and Scotland could actually exist as a union. It's a political, not an economic question: what possible scenarios can we imagine in which the Bank of England would view the Scottish economy as anything other than entirely subordinate to the interests of rUK's? And, moreover, what possible scenarios can we imagine in which an actually existing rUK government – as short-termist, economically-illiterate and vindictive as they tend to be – would allow that to happen?

It may just be the case that the rUK would be better off if the Bank of England carried its policy equitably, allowing the rUK to take a hit to ensure the continued strength of Scotland, which would be on of its biggest, if not the biggest, trading partner. But it's nigh-on impossible to imagine a rUK government letting the Bank of England incorporate that rationalisation into its mandate.

Compared to questions of fair allocation of public debt, North Sea Oil and monarchs (Scotland can have em, frankly), the question of Scottish monetary policy might seem boringly technical. But it's one of the most intractable problems standing in the way of Alex Salmond's dream.

Floating away. Photograph: Wikimedia Commons

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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As Donald Trump once asked, how do you impeach a President?

Starting the process is much easier than you might think. 

Yes, on Friday, Donald Trump will be inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States. And no, you can’t skip the next four years.

But look on the bright side. Those four years might never happen. On the one hand, he could tweet the nuclear codes before the day is out. On the other, his party might reach for their own nuclear button – impeachment. 

So, how exactly can you impeach a President? Here is our rough guide.

OK, what does impeachment actually mean?

Impeachment is the power to remove an elected official for misconduct. Here’s the relevant clause of the US Constitution:

“The President, Vice President and all Civil Officers of the United States, shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.”

Impeachment is actually a legacy of British constitutional history, and dates back as far as 1376, but according to our own parliamentary website, in the UK “this procedure is considered obsolete”. 

It’s up to the US Congress to decide whether to impeach and convict a President. Both houses are controlled by the Republicans, so impeaching Trump would mean turning against one who is – technically at least – one of their own. Since he’s already insulted the neighbouring country, supported discrimination against Muslim immigrants and mocked a disabled reporter, their impeachment threshold seems pretty high. But let’s imagine he surpasses himself. What next?

The impeachment process

Members of the House of Representatives – the lower chamber of the Congress – can start the impeachment process. They in turn may be encouraged to do so by voters. For example, there is a whole Wikipedia page dedicated to people who tried to impeach Barack Obama. One Impeach Obama supporter simply gave his reason as stopping the President from “pushing his agenda”. Another wanted to do so on the grounds of gross incompetence...

But for an impeachment attempt to actually work, the impeacher needs to get the support of the house. If a majority agree with the idea of impeaching the elected official, they nominate members to act as prosecutors during the subsequent trial. This takes place in the Senate, the upper house of Congress. In most impeachments, the Senate acts as judge and jury, but when a President is impeached, the chief justice of the United States presides.     

Two-thirds of the Senate must vote for impeachment in order to convict. 

What are the chances of impeaching Donald Trump?

So if Trump does something that even he can’t tweet away, and enough angry voters email their representatives, Congress can begin the process of impeachment. But will that be enough to get him out?

It’s often assumed that Richard Nixon was kicked out because he was impeached for the cover up known as the Watergate Scandal. In fact, we’ll never know, because he resigned before the House could vote on the process.

Two decades later, the House got further with Bill Clinton. When it emerged Clinton had an affair with Monica Lewinsky, an intern, he initially denied it. But after nearly 14 hours of debate, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives decided to impeach him on grounds including perjury and obstruction of justice.

In the Senate trial, Clinton’s defenders argued that his actions did not threaten the liberty of the people. The majority of Senators voted to acquit him. 

The only other Presidential impeachment took place in 1868, when President Andrew Johnson, removed a rabble-rouser from his Cabinet. The guilty vote fell short of the two-thirds majority, and he was acquitted.

So, what’s the chances of impeaching Trump? I’ll leave you with some numbers…

 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.