Austerity has cost the UK £3,500 for every household

The maths of cuts.

Counterfactuals are tricky. How can we know for certain what the British economy would look like if austerity had never been implemented?

Well, we can't be certain. But with a few assumptions, we can ale an educated guess, and that's precisely what Alan Taylor has done at VoxEU. The assumptions he makes aren't uncontroversial, but they are easily defensible, and the results are stunning.

First, we have to assume that the government actually did have the ability to avoid austerity. That is, if Osborne hadn't rapidly started to slash the state, would the bond markets have refused to loan to us shortly after? It seems unlikely, especially given, as Taylor points out, gilt yields remain incredibly low despite our debt-to-GDP level rising and our real GDP worse than predicted. The bond market basically doesn't care about the national debt, at least while it's at the levels it is now; instead, as opportunities for investment have frozen worldwide, yields in the UK have collapsed, along with those in the US and Japan.

So the UK didn't have to implement austerity; it was a choice. The second assumption is that policymakers "care about timing fiscal adjustments so as to mitigate damage to the real GDP path of the economy", and won't just splurge the money wherever they can find political support for it. That is a fairly weighty assumption, to be sure, and one which a lot of people working at the intersection of politics and economics might question. At the same time, though, it's a pretty necessary assumption to do much thinking about macroeconomics, not least because if you assume politicians are idiots, it becomes pretty hard to justify any state spending at all.

If you buy those two basic assumptions, Taylor writes, then you can start to work backwards from the observed effects of austerity in other countries to build up the counter-factual. This part is just the same as we've seen again and again: austerity hurts growth. A lot.

Last year, for instance Paul Krugman did a rough-and-ready calculation and estimated that cutting budgets by 1 per cent of GDP since the recession reduced GDP by around 1.25 per cent. That's not supposed to be generalizable – but it does seem true for a specific time (2008-2012) and place (Europe).

Taylor's model is far more robust: it takes account of allocation bias (the fact that the state of a country's economy may have influenced whether or not it applied austerity measures), and also allows for the fact that austerity has different affects applied in a boom or slump. And it finds a massive effect in a slump, compounded by the fact that, as Taylor says, "a dead cat bounces": given we'd expect more future growth the deeper in a slump we are (as the economy catches up with where it should be), there's a tendency to underestimate the damage of austerity.

But this is all preamble. You're here for the money shot. How much has austerity cost Britain? Three per cent of GDP:

Simon Wren-Lewis amortises that across the UK: it comes to £3,500 for every UK household over those three years. Bear that in mind next time you hear the government talking about how much our welfare bill is. Once upon a time, we had that money.

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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No, David Cameron’s speech was not “left wing”

Come on, guys.

There is a strange journalistic phenomenon that occurs when a party leader makes a speech. It is a blend of groupthink, relief, utter certainty, and online backslapping. It happened particularly quickly after David Cameron’s speech to Tory party conference today. A few pundits decided that – because he mentioned, like, diversity and social mobility – this was a centre-left speech. A leftwing speech, even. Or at least a clear grab for the liberal centre ground. And so that’s what everyone now believes. The analysis is decided. The commentary is written. Thank God for that.

Really? It’s quite easy, even as one of those nasty, wicked Tories, to mention that you actually don’t much like racism, and point out that you’d quite like poor children to get jobs, without moving onto Labour's "territory". Which normal person is in favour of discriminating against someone on the basis of race, or blocking opportunity on the basis of class? Of course he’s against that. He’s a politician operating in a liberal democracy. And this isn’t Ukip conference.

Looking at the whole package, it was actually quite a rightwing speech. It was a paean to defence – championing drones, protecting Britain from the evils of the world, and getting all excited about “launching the biggest aircraft carriers in our history”.

It was a festival of flagwaving guff about the British “character”, a celebration of shoehorning our history chronologically onto the curriculum, looking towards a “Greater Britain”, asking for more “national pride”. There was even a Bake Off pun.

He also deployed the illiberal device of inculcating a divide-and-rule fear of the “shadow of extremism – hanging over every single one of us”, informing us that children in UK madrassas are having their “heads filled with poison and their hearts filled with hate”, and saying Britain shouldn’t be “overwhelmed” with refugees, before quickly changing the subject to ousting Assad. How unashamedly centrist, of you, Mr Prime Minister.

Benefit cuts and a reduction of tax credits will mean the Prime Minister’s enthusiasm for “equality of opportunity, as opposed to equality of outcome” will be just that – with the outcome pretty bleak for those who end up losing any opportunity that comes with state support. And his excitement about diversity in his cabinet rings a little hollow the day following a tubthumping anti-immigration speech from his Home Secretary.

If this year's Tory conference wins the party votes, it’ll be because of its conservative commitment – not lefty love bombing.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.