Why it is absurd for Cameron to claim that he and Cable are united

The PM and the Business Secretary are making diametrically opposed arguments on borrowing for growth.

There is no need to have "a fight" with Vince Cable because there is nothing to have a fight about. That was the argument David Cameron sought to make during the Q&A following his speech on the economy. He pointed out that Cable's New Statesman essay had been signed off by the Treasury (a decision Team Osborne may well now regret) and insisted that the Business Secretary was in full agreement with the government's economic policy. 

But as a close reading of both texts shows, the Prime Minister and the Business Secretary are making diametrically opposed arguments on borrowing for growth. Here are three key points of difference. 

Where Cameron and Cable disagree

1. Would higher borrowing threaten economic stability?

Cameron claimed that deficit-financed stimulus would "jeopardise" the nation’s finances by triggering a spike in interest rates. Cable said the reverse. Highlighting the long-term maturity of the UK's debt, he wrote that "we suffer less from the risks of a debt spiral, where refinancing maturing debt rapidly becomes impossible. Consequently, the effect on our fiscal situation of higher interest rates is in fact nowhere near as bad as having weak growth". 

2. Can borrowing for growth aid deficit reduction?

In his speech, Cameron ridiculed those who think "borrowing more money would mean borrowing less". But in his NS essay, Cable argued that borrowing to invest would not "undermine the central objective of reducing the structural deficit" (a measure that excludes capital spending) and could even assist it "by by reviving growth".

3. Can the government afford to spend more?

Cameron argued that was there no "magic money tree", insisting that the government could not afford to borrow to significantly increase spending. 

It was precisely this kind of economic fatalism that Cable took a razorblade to. He denounced as "absurd" the claim that capital spending could not be "greatly expanded" and attacked the "pessimists" who say "the central government is incapable of mobilising capital investment quickly". 

Borrowing for growth, he added (rather than imposing further cuts elsewhere), "would inject demand into the weakest sector of our economy – construction – and, at one remove, the manufacturing supply chain (cement, steel). It would target two significant bottlenecks to growth: infrastructure and housing."

David Cameron delivers his speech on the economy during a visit to precision grinding engineers Kinetic Landis Ltd on March 7, 2013 in Keighley. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear