Why must our sporting idols be nice?

Desire to place the highly successful on a pedestal does no one any favours.

I was at the O2 last week to witness one of the great spectacles in sport as Roger Federer dismantled Janko Tipsarevic in little over an hour, barely breaking sweat in the process.

What struck me however, apart from the incredible beauty of the 31-year-old’s game, was the sheer noise that accompanied his every move. Had someone told me that I had somehow lost myself in the arena’s vast upper tier for four weeks and emerged during one of The Rolling Stones’ sold out gigs at the end of the month I wouldn’t have doubted them.

I have watched Federer play in this country a number of times now and each time I do I am amazed at the incredible level of popularity that follows the Swiss everywhere he goes. As Andy Murray found out at Wimbledon on in July and again on Sunday night, patriotic fervour has nothing on Federer’s universal charm.

Elite sportsmen attracting widespread adoration is hardly groundbreaking or newsworthy, but the almost cult like following that Federer enjoys verges on the unnerving.

I have lost count of the amount of people who, like characters from the Gillian Cross novel The Demon Headmaster, have trotted out the same lines about how classy the Swiss is, both on and off the court- the words “humble” and “great” following not far behind.

I would, from a pure sportsmanship perspective, severely dispute this assertion but what is it about players, be it in single or team events that fans care so desperately as to whether or not they are nice human beings?  

It seems that we want to feel that despite all of the scarcely unbelievable successes our heroes enjoy, at the end of the day when they take off their boots and throw down their kitbag they are just like you or me.

In fact, the more successful they are, the more desperately this emotional link is sought after.

When Tiger Woods burst onto the golf scene at the 1997 Masters, romping to his first major win at the age of 21, the story was of a charming college graduate with an unbreakable bond with his father Earl. When Lance Armstrong won the first of his seven tainted Tour de France titles, many journalists were prepared to ignore the doubts surrounding the legitimacy of his victory and chose to focus on the medical miracle. It was if they too needed to believe in something perfectly accessible.

If we revisit Federer for a moment, I am not for a moment comparing his conduct to that of Woods or Armstrong but I cannot be alone, for example, in noticing his crass speech after winning the Wimbledon title in 2009.

The victorious Federer, a then six time winner of tennis’ most prized trophy, tried to pretend, or honestly believed, that he knew how Roddick, a three time runner up, was feeling. The American’s bewildered facial expression said it all.

As Roddick began to come to terms with the fact that he had won the most service games ever captured in a Wimbledon final only to come up short again, Federer unfurled a new wardrobe already emblazoned with details of his most recent triumph.

Later in the year, as he let a two sets to one lead slip against Juan Martin del Potro, Federer was involved in a flashpoint with umpire Jake Garner and was fined for swearing in an exchange with the official.

His tears at the 2009 Australian Open - what now must be seen as a shamefully self pitying gesture in response to losing three consecutive major finals to Rafael Nadal. If there were "first world" tennis problems, Federer had them.

Yet despite all of this, the Swiss was still handed the ATP’s "Stefan Edberg Sportsmanship Award" for the year. The yarn of nicety was one too good to stop spinning.  

Andrew Castle often notes that Federer had a fiery temper as a teenage junior as he struggled at times to mould his incredible talent into a world conquering force. “What changed?” the former British number one often muses.

Well, winning of course. It is not difficult to be gracious in victory and, more often than not, Federer has his ATP brand friendly platitudes mastered perfectly. The BBC even used the clipped quotes from a victorious Federer to justify their assertion that Andy Murray would one day win a major title of his own.

But look deeper. When losing his biggest matches and in career defining defeats Federer has lacked all of the class that supposedly sets him apart as a human being.  That evidence is everywhere.

The reality Federer is no better or worse than the vast majority of players on tour, he just wins more than most. He breaks equipment and swears on microphone just like everyone else, however, because of his supreme level of performance across a decade, there are many who are desperate to set their man on a pedestal in order that they can identify with their idol.
The logic seems to be that if they can label him an all conquering everyman and hero, his remarkable string of achievements become easier to understand and digest.

It is the same emotion that compels many to begin writing Federer’s sporting obituary as if, at 31, he has spent 13 sedentary years since turning 18 mixing hit and giggle tennis with a rock and roll lifestyle. This desire to understand works both for and against the 17 time major champion.

Once a trust has been lost, as Woods and Armstrong have found in recent times, it is lost forever, but whilst an illusion of niceness and level headedness remains, fans will defend their heroes to the hilt.

It is for these reasons that I have always found figures like undefeated American boxer Floyd Mayweather the perfect antidote to this desire for niceness. His flaws as a human being, of which there are many, are such that no commentator would ever accuse him of being a crowd favourite but the 34-year-old is a phenomenal talent who knows how to put on a good show.

He invites Justin Bieber to guest star amongst his entourage and, at a time when the ATP try and encourage their combatants to talk respectfully about wealth and privilege to make them more accessible to the average fan, Mayweather takes his laptop around his $10m house to show off his array of supercars and female companions to US soldiers posted in Iraq.  

This may not be classy behaviour but it ensures that we enjoy Mayweather for his ability alone and do not get caught up in linking sporting wealth to moral fibre or personal likeability. After the wealthiest fighter in the history of the sport beat Miguel Cotto earlier this year to protect his perfect record as a professional, he spent 87 days in prison for battery. The lines between professional perfection and personal fallibility could not have been more starkly drawn.

Closer to home, the freedom afforded football figures like Ashley Cole, Wayne Rooney and Luis Suarez after being written off as morally bankrupt at various stages of their careers, has  actually been beneficial. After all, it is hard enough being a world class sportsman without having to be everyone’s favourite personality too.

It is busting this compulsion to box our idols into a more accessible category that takes a massive weight off the shoulders of the athletically gifted and allows them to focus on what we love them for most.

Perhaps Roger Federer should shun his moral compass for the 2013 season and alienate some of his loyal fans with an ill-advised outburst. He might just relish the freedom.  
 

Is Roger Federer as nice as we think he is, or does he just win a lot? Photograph: Getty Images

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We're racing towards another private debt crisis - so why did no one see it coming?

The Office for Budget Responsibility failed to foresee the rise in household debt. 

This is a call for a public inquiry on the current situation regarding private debt.

For almost a decade now, since 2007, we have been living a lie. And that lie is preparing to wreak havoc on our economy. If we do not create some kind of impartial forum to discuss what is actually happening, the results might well prove disastrous. 

The lie I am referring to is the idea that the financial crisis of 2008, and subsequent “Great Recession,” were caused by profligate government spending and subsequent public debt. The exact opposite is in fact the case. The crash happened because of dangerously high levels of private debt (a mortgage crisis specifically). And - this is the part we are not supposed to talk about—there is an inverse relation between public and private debt levels.

If the public sector reduces its debt, overall private sector debt goes up. That's what happened in the years leading up to 2008. Now austerity is making it happening again. And if we don't do something about it, the results will, inevitably, be another catastrophe.

The winners and losers of debt

These graphs show the relationship between public and private debt. They are both forecasts from the Office for Budget Responsibility, produced in 2015 and 2017. 

This is what the OBR was projecting what would happen around now back in 2015:

This year the OBR completely changed its forecast. This is how it now projects things are likely to turn out:

First, notice how both diagrams are symmetrical. What happens on top (that part of the economy that is in surplus) precisely mirrors what happens in the bottom (that part of the economy that is in deficit). This is called an “accounting identity.”

As in any ledger sheet, credits and debits have to match. The easiest way to understand this is to imagine there are just two actors, government, and the private sector. If the government borrows £100, and spends it, then the government has a debt of £100. But by spending, it has injected £100 more pounds into the private economy. In other words, -£100 for the government, +£100 for everyone else in the diagram. 

Similarly, if the government taxes someone for £100 , then the government is £100 richer but there’s £100 subtracted from the private economy (+£100 for government, -£100 for everybody else on the diagram).

So what implications does this kind of bookkeeping have for the overall economy? It means that if the government goes into surplus, then everyone else has to go into debt.

We tend to think of money as if it is a bunch of poker chips already lying around, but that’s not how it really works. Money has to be created. And money is created when banks make loans. Either the government borrows money and injects it into the economy, or private citizens borrow money from banks. Those banks don’t take the money from people’s savings or anywhere else, they just make it up. Anyone can write an IOU. But only banks are allowed to issue IOUs that the government will accept in payment for taxes. (In other words, there actually is a magic money tree. But only banks are allowed to use it.)

There are other factors. The UK has a huge trade deficit (blue), and that means the government (yellow) also has to run a deficit (print money, or more accurately, get banks to do it) to inject into the economy to pay for all those Chinese trainers, American iPads, and German cars. The total amount of money can also fluctuate. But the real point here is, the less the government is in debt, the more everyone else must be. Austerity measures will necessarily lead to rising levels of private debt. And this is exactly what has happened.

Now, if this seems to have very little to do with the way politicians talk about such matters, there's a simple reason: most politicians don’t actually know any of this. A recent survey showed 90 per cent of MPs don't even understand where money comes from (they think it's issued by the Royal Mint). In reality, debt is money. If no one owed anyone anything at all there would be no money and the economy would grind to a halt.

But of course debt has to be owed to someone. These charts show who owes what to whom.

The crisis in private debt

Bearing all this in mind, let's look at those diagrams again - keeping our eye particularly on the dark blue that represents household debt. In the first, 2015 version, the OBR duly noted that there was a substantial build-up of household debt in the years leading up to the crash of 2008. This is significant because it was the first time in British history that total household debts were higher than total household savings, and therefore the household sector itself was in deficit territory. (Corporations, at the same time, were raking in enormous profits.) But it also predicted this wouldn't happen again.

True, the OBR observed, austerity and the reduction of government deficits meant private debt levels would have to go up. However, the OBR economists insisted this wouldn't be a problem because the burden would fall not on households but on corporations. Business-friendly Tory policies would, they insisted, inspire a boom in corporate expansion, which would mean frenzied corporate borrowing (that huge red bulge below the line in the first diagram, which was supposed to eventually replace government deficits entirely). Ordinary households would have little or nothing to worry about.

This was total fantasy. No such frenzied boom took place.

In the second diagram, two years later, the OBR is forced to acknowledge this. Corporations are just raking in the profits and sitting on them. The household sector, on the other hand, is a rolling catastrophe. Austerity has meant falling wages, less government spending on social services (or anything else), and higher de facto taxes. This puts the squeeze on household budgets and people are forced to borrow. As a result, not only are households in overall deficit for the second time in British history, the situation is actually worse than it was in the years leading up to 2008.

And remember: it was a mortgage crisis that set off the 2008 crash, which almost destroyed the world economy and plunged millions into penury. Not a crisis in public debt. A crisis in private debt.

An inquiry

In 2015, around the time the original OBR predictions came out, I wrote an essay in the Guardian predicting that austerity and budget-balancing would create a disastrous crisis in private debt. Now it's so clearly, unmistakably, happening that even the OBR cannot deny it.

I believe the time has come for there be a public investigation - a formal public inquiry, in fact - into how this could be allowed to happen. After the 2008 crash, at least the economists in Treasury and the Bank of England could plausibly claim they hadn't completely understood the relation between private debt and financial instability. Now they simply have no excuse.

What on earth is an institution called the “Office for Budget Responsibility” credulously imagining corporate borrowing binges in order to suggest the government will balance the budget to no ill effects? How responsible is that? Even the second chart is extremely odd. Up to 2017, the top and bottom of the diagram are exact mirrors of one another, as they ought to be. However, in the projected future after 2017, the section below the line is much smaller than the section above, apparently seriously understating the amount both of future government, and future private, debt. In other words, the numbers don't add up.

The OBR told the New Statesman ​that it was not aware of any errors in its 2015 forecast for corporate sector net lending, and that the forecast was based on the available data. It said the forecast for business investment has been revised down because of the uncertainty created by Brexit. 

Still, if the “Office of Budget Responsibility” was true to its name, it should be sounding off the alarm bells right about now. So far all we've got is one mention of private debt and a mild warning about the rise of personal debt from the Bank of England, which did not however connect the problem to austerity, and one fairly strong statement from a maverick columnist in the Daily Mail. Otherwise, silence. 

The only plausible explanation is that institutions like the Treasury, OBR, and to a degree as well the Bank of England can't, by definition, warn against the dangers of austerity, however alarming the situation, because they have been set up the way they have in order to justify austerity. It's important to emphasise that most professional economists have never supported Conservative policies in this regard. The policy was adopted because it was convenient to politicians; institutions were set up in order to support it; economists were hired in order to come up with arguments for austerity, rather than to judge whether it would be a good idea. At present, this situation has led us to the brink of disaster.

The last time there was a financial crash, the Queen famously asked: why was no one able to foresee this? We now have the tools. Perhaps the most important task for a public inquiry will be to finally ask: what is the real purpose of the institutions that are supposed to foresee such matters, to what degree have they been politicised, and what would it take to turn them back into institutions that can at least inform us if we're staring into the lights of an oncoming train?