That Mark Carney effect in full

The new Governor of the Bank of England makes sweeping changes.

It's our favourite chart, and you can really see the effect new governor Mark Carney is having on the Bank of England.

In all seriousness, though, the Bank's announcement of the meeting of the monetary policy committee (MPC) did contain a bombshell, of sorts:

The implied rise in the expected future path of Bank Rate was not warranted by the recent developments in the domestic economy.

In non-central-bank speak: "don't expect us to raise interest rates any time soon, because the economy is still in the toilet." What they're saying is almost less important than the fact that they're saying it at all, though. Interest rate decisions are normally passed down without any statement at all; we have to wait for the minutes of the MPC to be released a few weeks later to find out what was going through their heads. That pushes the statement from an explanation of their thoughts into active monetary policy in its own right. It is what's known as "forward guidance".

Monetary policy is, at heart, an expectations game. Interest rates, inflation, and even (to a lesser extent) the quantity of money matter because they change the decisions you make about how to plan for the future. If interest rates are low, you're likely to invest. If interest rates are low and likely to stay low, you're likely to invest more. If interest rates are low and the central bank is telling you they'll stay low for quite some time, well then, you may as well buy some stocks or build a bridge or something, because you aren't going to make any profit in a savings account.

Forward guidance is a very Carneyesque thing to be doing (although Mervyn King was no stranger to the concept himself), but there's two sides to the coin: making promises, and keeping them. This guidance isn't particularly controversial, merely stating what we all knew they were thinking; but it's useful to build up trust that when the Bank makes statements, they're statements you can bank on.

Update:

Fanfaronade adds to our translation. Though this metaphor is getting rather mixed now.

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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Brexit is teaching the UK that it needs immigrants

Finally forced to confront the economic consequences of low migration, ministers are abandoning the easy rhetoric of the past.

Why did the UK vote to leave the EU? For conservatives, Brexit was about regaining parliamentary sovereignty. For socialists it was about escaping the single market. For still more it was a chance to punish David Cameron and George Osborne. But supreme among the causes was the desire to reduce immigration.

For years, as the government repeatedly missed its target to limit net migration to "tens of thousands", the EU provided a convenient scapegoat. The free movement of people allegedly made this ambition unachievable (even as non-European migration oustripped that from the continent). When Cameron, the author of the target, was later forced to argue that the price of leaving the EU was nevertheless too great, voters were unsurprisingly unconvinced.

But though the Leave campaign vowed to gain "control" of immigration, it was careful never to set a formal target. As many of its senior figures knew, reducing net migration to "tens of thousands" a year would come at an economic price (immigrants make a net fiscal contribution of £7bn a year). An OBR study found that with zero net migration, public sector debt would rise to 145 per cent of GDP by 2062-63, while with high net migration it would fall to 73 per cent. For the UK, with its poor productivity and sub-par infrastructure, immigration has long been an economic boon. 

When Theresa May became Prime Minister, some cabinet members hoped that she would abolish the net migration target in a "Nixon goes to China" moment. But rather than retreating, the former Home Secretary doubled down. She regards the target as essential on both political and policy grounds (and has rejected pleas to exempt foreign students). But though the same goal endures, Brexit is forcing ministers to reveal a rarely spoken truth: Britain needs immigrants.

Those who boasted during the referendum of their desire to reduce the number of newcomers have been forced to qualify their remarks. On last night's Question Time, Brexit secretary David Davis conceded that immigration woud not invariably fall following Brexit. "I cannot imagine that the policy will be anything other than that which is in the national interest, which means that from time to time we’ll need more, from time to time we’ll need less migrants."

Though Davis insisted that the government would eventually meet its "tens of thousands" target (while sounding rather unconvinced), he added: "The simple truth is that we have to manage this problem. You’ve got industry dependent on migrants. You’ve got social welfare, the national health service. You have to make sure they continue to work."

As my colleague Julia Rampen has charted, Davis's colleagues have inserted similar caveats. Andrea Leadsom, the Environment Secretary, who warned during the referendum that EU immigration could “overwhelm” Britain, has told farmers that she recognises “how important seasonal labour from the EU is to the everyday running of your businesses”. Others, such as the Health Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, the Business Secretary, Greg Clark, and the Communities Secretary, Sajid Javid, have issued similar guarantees to employers. Brexit is fuelling immigration nimbyism: “Fewer migrants, please, but not in my sector.”

The UK’s vote to leave the EU – and May’s decision to pursue a "hard Brexit" – has deprived the government of a convenient alibi for high immigration. Finally forced to confront the economic consequences of low migration, ministers are abandoning the easy rhetoric of the past. Brexit may have been caused by the supposed costs of immigration but it is becoming an education in its benefits.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.