FT loses its motherloving mind with ill-advised rap-themed front page opinion piece

"Stay Middling And Retire Disappointed"

The FT has an incredible front-page opinion piece today. The print version has the headline "G-Dawg splashes out tax cuts like P Diddy with Dom Pérignon in his blingiest giveaway". Really:

The actual piece – which I so wanted to just cut and paste, because, wow - has more:

George Osborne could reinvent himself as a rapper if politics loses its appeal. He sprinkled his Budget – sorry “Autumn Statement” – with shout-outs to his posse (the MPs for Hereford, Burnley and Thurrock)… Giving back to his homies, the chancellor splashed out with tax cuts like P Diddy dispensing Dom Pérignon to a thirsty entourage…

Mr Osborne also talked up the soljaz on the street, if the small businesses who are the backbone of our nation may be described thus…

Having laid claim to the business ‘hood

– A short break here to point out that marvellously, even when writing in faux-hip-hop slang, the FT style guide still insists on a leading apostrophe in the word "hood" –

Having laid claim to the business ‘hood, G-Dawg was free to pursue his beef with its most disrespected inhabitants: the banks…

For [small businesses], life is currently a case of Stay Middling And Retire Disappointed rather than Get Rich Or Die Tryin’.

As an art form, rap is loud, but lacking in substance.

– A second parenthetical to point out that that sentence was the pull quote of the entire piece –

That was the problem with Mr Osborne’s Autumn Statement too… To critics, Mr Osborne still resembles Boy George more than 50 Cent.


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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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.