Miliband admits Labour would borrow more - now he needs to make the argument

The Labour leader should explain why borrowing for growth is the economically responsible course.

After his disastrous appearance on The World At One yesterday, it was a more relaxed Ed Miliband who took to the Daybreak sofa this morning. Asked about the ill-fated interview by presenter Lorraine Kelly and his refusal to say whether Labour would borrow more in the short term, he replied: 

Look, that happens. You do interviews; some interviews well, some interviews not so well. Look, I was asked a question about VAT and Labour's plans to cut VAT. I am clear about this, a temporary cut in VAT, as we are proposing, would lead to a temporary rise in borrowing. The point I was making yesterday was that if you can get growth going by cutting VAT, then over time you will see actually borrowing fall - that was the point I was making yesterday and it's good to be able to make it today. 

Although Miliband made it sound otherwise, the admission was a significant one. Labour's "five point-plan for jobs and growth" has always rested on the assumption that the party would borrow more in the short-term. Were it do otherwise, and fund measures such as a VAT cut through spending cuts or tax rises elsewhere, the effectiveness of any stimulus would be dramatically reduced. Yet until now, Miliband has refused to concede as much. 

Now he has finally done so, the task for Labour is to persuade the public that borrowing for growth, at a time of stagnation and rising unemployment, is the right (and responsible) thing to do. Today's ComRes poll for the Independent, showing that 58 per cent of the public believe that the government's economic plan has failed and that it will be "time for a change" in 2015 is a reminder of the appetite for an alternative. 

The difficulty for Labour is that the Tories' argument that "you can't borrow more to borrow less" has a seductive appeal. But as anyone who has ever taken out a mortgage or founded a company knows, it's not true. As families struggle to find affordable housing and adequate employment, Labour should make the argument that now is precisely the time for the government to take advantage of record low interest rates and borrow to invest. To the charge that it is burdening future generations with debt, the party should reply: what kind of country will our children inherit if we don't build more homes, create more jobs and protect the services we rely on? When the private sector is unwilling or unable to fulfil these duties, it falls to the state to intervene and act as a spender of last resort. As Nye Bevan once declared, government must never become a mere "public mourner for private economic crimes". 

The failure of Labour to make these arguments since 2010 means it has a significant political deficit to overcome. But if Miliband is to offer a genuine alternative to austerity, he must now resolve to do so. 

Ed Miliband delivers a speech on the high street in the town centre on April 25, 2013 in Worcester. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Why the past 12 months have been the worst of my lifetime

We desperately need a return to calm and moderation.

Twitter is a weird phenomenon: a deeply selective, wholly unreliable Survation or YouGov in your pocket, with an even bigger margin for error. I’ve been tweeting for a year now, but I’m still useless at guessing what is likely to attract attention; so I was taken completely by surprise at the end of last week when a comment I jotted down received thousands of Likes and retweets. “It’s a year since Jo Cox was murdered,” I wrote: “the worst year for Britain in my lifetime. We badly need a return to Jo’s concept of moderation now.”

Fairly anodyne, you would have thought, but it seems to have touched a nerve. Clearly many other people feel that the past year, with its violence and disasters and wholesale political instability, has been a bad one. For days afterwards, my phone kept buzzing as more people retweeted it. There were, as always, a few contrarians who objected that other years since 1944 must have been worse; some said “much worse”. But that isn’t really true.

After D-Day, we knew the war was going to be won. Despite the bombs, the country was proud of itself and pulling together, and the likes of my father were hoping for a better world as soon as it was finished. The year of the Suez crisis, 1956, was pretty bad, but Anthony Eden was gone directly, and Harold Macmillan’s phoney self-confidence convinced people that things would be all right – and anyway the economy was growing impressively.

The period of the Heath government had awful moments: 1972, the year of Bloody Sunday and IRA attacks, was especially bad. Yet there was nothing like the appalling Grenfell Tower fire to divide the nation. And 1974 was humiliating for the government, but our membership of the European Economic Community offered a certain stability. We had a different, more forelock-tugging relationship with our political leaders then. The news bulletins used to talk reverently of “the prime minister, Mr Wilson”; now they just say “Theresa May”.

Today we have a prime minister who is held to have been mortally wounded by a series of personal failures and miscalculations; a governing party that has been self-harming for years over the question of ­Europe; an opposition that, until just recently, was regarded as hopelessly incompetent and naive; an economy that could be damaged by an ill-judged Brexit agreement; and a new vulnerability to terrorism, in which one atrocity quickly overlays the memory of the last.

There’s a newly hysterical tone in British society, which had always seemed so reassuringly reliable and sensible. The crowd that stormed Kensington Town Hall as though it were the Bastille or the Winter Palace mistook a man in a suit for a Tory councillor and beat him up. It transpired that he was an outside contractor who had spent much of the week helping the Grenfell Tower victims.

Above all, what was until recently the world’s fifth-largest economy has suddenly found itself on the edge of a trapdoor in the dark. “Back to the Thirties”, some people are saying. “Venezuela”, say others. Even Brexiteers who feel liberated and excited at the prospect of getting out of the EU can’t know if it’s going to work. Friends of mine who voted Leave because they were fed up with David Cameron or thought things needed a shake-up now show a degree of buyer’s remorse. Perhaps, like Boris Johnson in the BBC2 drama Theresa vs Boris, they thought the country was so stable that nothing bad would actually happen.

We’ve entered a period of sudden, neurotic mood swings. The opinion polls, unable to cope, tell us at one moment that Jeremy Corbyn is regarded as dangerous and useless, and at the next that a growing number of people see him as the national saviour. The Prime Minister’s “safe pair of hands” are now deemed too shaky to carry the country’s china. Ukip polled over 10 per cent in 450 seats in 2015, and in only two seats in 2017.

If any further evidence of neuroticism is needed, there is the longing that people have to be enfolded in the arms of a comforting authority figure. For some, it was the Queen, calming everyone down with a message of unity, or Prince William, hugging a grieving woman after the Grenfell Tower fire. For others, it was Corbyn doing the right human things while Theresa May walked past the tower ruins awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

It feels like being back in 1997, with the huge crowds in the Mall or outside Kensington Palace demanding to be comforted after the death of Diana. Then, the Queen was blamed for not being the mother figure we seemed, disturbingly, to want. Tony Blair had the right words at that time, and no doubt he would have had the right words after Grenfell Tower. But is it merely words and gestures we need?

It’s a bad sign when countries feel that they need an individual to sort them out. It’s because of its system, based on openness, inclusiveness and the rule of law, that Britain has grown strong and wealthy. Jo Cox said in her maiden speech in June 2015: “While we celebrate our diversity, what surprises me time and time again as I travel around the constituency is that we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”

She was murdered by a fanatic who screamed, “This is for Britain! Britain will always come first!” The year that those words ushered in has indeed been the worst in my lifetime. The government slogan “Keep calm and carry on” was invented in 1939, when all-out German bombing seemed imminent. It is easy to lampoon but when it was rediscovered a few years ago it became popular, because it spoke directly to our national consciousness. We’ve never had more need of calmness than now.

John Simpson is World Affairs Editor of BBC News, having worked for the corporation since the beginning of his career in 1970. He has reported from more than 120 countries, including 30 war zones, and interviewed many world leaders.

This article first appeared in the 22 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The zombie PM

0800 7318496