Osborne is failing on his own terms as deficit increases

The budget is floating on a raft of windfall revenues.

The latest borrowing figures for the public sector have been released, and they show that George Osborne continues to be not particularly good at achieving his stated aim of deficit reduction.

Public sector net borrowing — the accounting name for what is usually called the deficit — was £15.4bn in December 2012, £0.6bn higher than it was in December 2011. This still leaves the cumulative deficit for the financial year 2012/13 on target to be considerably lower than it was for the financial year 2011/12 (£78.5bn compared to last year's £99.3bn), but success of deficit reduction has been reduced again. That figure, however, takes into account the windfall revenue from the transfer of the Royal Mail pension scheme. Excluding that windfall, the deficit would be £7.2bn higher this cumulative year than last.

In addition, and crucially, the last quarter of financial year 2012/13 is expected to see the transfer of profits from the Bank of England's quantitative easing program and the proceeds of the 4G spectrum auction — both of which are subject to political controversy, and both of which are expected to lead to sizeable reductions in the 2012/13 deficit. The 4G auction led to upset around the time of the autumn statement, when the Chancellor brought forward the revenue from it in order to be able to claim to be reducing the deficit; while the transfer of QE profits was called by our economics editor David Blanchflower a "smash-and-grab" raid on the Bank of England (even if it may not have been that bad in hindsight). The ONS concludes:

the transfers from the BEAPFF [the QE transfer] will reduce [the deficit] by £11.5 billion… the sales of the 4G spectrum will reduce [the deficit] by £3.5 billion.

Both of those are also windfall revenue, in the classic sense: the chancellor can't claim any fiscal prudence by pointing to the revenue they raise, since they will come once and only once. (And the latter, at least, might well turn out to be fiscal imprudence, if the Treasury ends up having to pay back more than it appropriated.)

The failure to cut the deficit may not be a bad thing, of course. If the economy is suffering from a paucity of aggregate demand, then the government cutting spending as fast as it wanted to would be terrible. Even while the government has been slashing public services, its inability to promote even minimal growth has meant that automatic fiscal stabilisers — things like means-tested and out-of-work benefits — have caused the resultant deficit reduction to be minimal. Keynesians should thank George Osborne for being so ineffectual at achieving the goal he has staked his political career on. His own party might not be quite so forthcoming.

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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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.