The best way to fix the long term is with more short-termism

People don't like thinking about hard problems while the economy is a mess.

Just in case you aren't convinced that things tend to get worse before they get more worse, here's another example of why it's incumbent on us to solve the short-term problems in the short term because, not despite, of the long-term problems plaguing us.

The Washington Post's Brad Plumber writes about building the support needed to tackle climate change:

A new study finds that U.S. senators are far less likely to take green votes when the unemployment rate in their state is high…

Grant Jacobsen of the University of Oregon took a look at the voting records of 296 senators between 1976 and 2008. He then checked the local unemployment rate in each senator’s state, and matched them up to the “green scores” that were given to each senator by the League of Conservation Voters.

The result? “A one point increase in the [state] unemployment rate leads to a statistically significant 0.48 point decline in the LCV score of the average senator.”

Doubtless politicians – particularly right-wing politicians – wouldn't agree that Making Tough Choices about climate change is the same as Making Tough Choices about what we're used to euphemistically referring too as "much needed structural reforms", but they are. In both cases, the move would be unpopular, painful for a number of entrenched interests, and probably necessary in the long term – but the idea that we ought to take difficult steps in the middle of the biggest recession Britain has ever seen, and then start fixing the recession, is madness.

Of course, the problems with fixing climate change in the middle of a recession aren't identical to the proposals to cut employment protections, corporate tax rates and financial regulations. For one thing, there's a chance that efforts to reduce the amount of carbon we pump into the atmosphere might actually do what they're intended to do, while the evidence that businesses are just straining at the bit to give us perpetual 3 per cent growth were it not for those pesky unfair dismissal laws is slim.

But also, of course, many efforts to fight climate change are also ones which would end the damaging austerity keeping us in this economic crisis in the first place. So while politically, we may have to solve the short term problem – and end the depression – before we can move on to fixing the climate, economically, they're one and the same.

Still, what we should take away from this is that something which can end the depression is something which should be done. It doesn't matter if it's "kicking the can down the road" – once that can is kicked, we can start thinking about the long term solutions which might eliminate the can altogether, or maybe power it with wind, or solar energy. (That metaphor ran away from me somewhat)

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 Ukip press officer I slept with, the European Union was Daddy

My Ukip lover just wanted to kick against authority. I do not know how he would have coped with the reality of Brexit.

I was a journalist for a progressive newspaper.

He was the press officer for the UK Independence Party.

He was smoking a cigarette on the pavement outside the Ukip conference in Bristol.

I sat beside him. It was a scene from a terrible film. 

He wore a tweed Sherlock Holmes coat. The general impression was of a seedy-posh bat who had learned to talk like Shere Khan. He was a construct: a press officer so ridiculous that, by comparison, Ukip supporters seemed almost normal. He could have impersonated the Queen Mother, or a morris dancer, or a British bulldog. It was all bravado and I loved him for that.

He slept in my hotel room, and the next day we held hands in the public gallery while people wearing Union Jack badges ranted about the pound. This was before I learned not to choose men with my neurosis alone. If I was literally embedded in Ukip, I was oblivious, and I was no kinder to the party in print than I would have been had I not slept with its bat-like press officer. How could I be? On the last day of the conference, a young, black, female supporter was introduced to the audience with the words – after a white male had rubbed the skin on her hand – “It doesn’t come off.” Another announcement was: “The Ukip Mondeo is about to be towed away.” I didn’t take these people seriously. He laughed at me for that.

After conference, I moved into his seedy-posh 18th-century house in Totnes, which is the counterculture capital of Devon. It was filled with crystal healers and water diviners. I suspect now that his dedication to Ukip was part of his desire to thwart authority, although this may be my denial about lusting after a Brexiteer who dressed like Sherlock Holmes. But I prefer to believe that, for him, the European Union was Daddy, and this compulsion leaked into his work for Ukip – the nearest form of authority and the smaller Daddy.

He used to telephone someone called Roger from in front of a computer with a screen saver of two naked women kissing, lying about what he had done to promote Ukip. He also told me, a journalist, disgusting stories about Nigel Farage that I cannot publish because they are libellous.

When I complained about the pornographic screen saver and said it was damaging to his small son, he apologised with damp eyes and replaced it with a photo of a topless woman with her hand down her pants.

It was sex, not politics, that broke us. I arrived on Christmas Eve to find a photograph of a woman lying on our bed, on sheets I had bought for him. That was my Christmas present. He died last year and I do not know how he would have coped with the reality of Brexit, of Daddy dying, too – for what would be left to desire?

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era