Austerity after 2015: why the worst is yet to come

Without further welfare cuts or tax rises, the next government will have to cut departmental spending 50% faster.

With a week to go before the Spending Review, reports suggest that the Treasury has secured just a third of the £11.5bn of cuts planned in 2015-16. Yet amid the claim and counter-claim about how far departmental budgets can be squeezed, it is worth reflecting on how the review fits into the broader context of deficit reduction. If current plans are to be delivered, this round of cuts is merely an hors d'oeuvre for a far more painful set of decisions to be made after the next election.

New analysis by the Resolution Foundation shows that departments are already expected to be some 9% smaller on average in 2014-15 than in 2010-11 as a result of cuts in the 2010 Spending Review. With spending on health, schools and overseas aid protected, these have been far starker for some departments. At the extreme, the Foreign Office will be just half of its previous size, while the communities department will have shrunk by more than two-fifths. More typically, the defence budget will have fallen by 17%, while the Home Office will have suffered a 25% cut.

Not surprising, then, that the 2.6% of additional savings called for in 2015-16 are proving hard to find. With health, schools and overseas aid once again protected, the government’s plans imply average cuts of 8% across all other departments. With every additional pound of savings harder to identify than the last, don’t be surprised if the Chancellor decides to raise extra revenue from further welfare cuts.

Yet the new analysis also shows that - if the current deficit reduction timetable is adhered to — there’s (much) more to come. Painful though the current process is, existing plans imply a further £26bn of cuts between 2016 and 2018. This would mean either accelerating the pace of departmental cuts or introducing major new welfare cuts or tax rises. As tough as 2015-16 may be, this year’s Spending Review would merely be the calm in the eye of the storm.

What does this mean in practice for the years after 2015? Delivering the current plans without further welfare cuts or tax rises would imply speeding up departmental cuts by 50%. If health, schools and aid spending is again protected, that would imply cumulative cuts to unprotected departments by 2017-18 that begin to look implausible. Defence and the Home Office would be between one-third and one-half smaller than in 2010-11. The Foreign Office would be two-thirds smaller than it was seven years before.

This scenario would have profound implications for the role and shape of the state. Total departmental spending would have fallen 18% between 2010-11 and 17-18. Within that total, the proportion going to health would have increased from one-quarter to one-third, while spending on defence would have fallen from 10% to 8%.

Of course, the government could decide to ease post-2015-16 departmental cuts by seeking more from welfare or tax. Yet our new analysis reveals that simply keeping post-election departmental cuts to their current pace will require an extra £10bn from welfare or tax over two years. For a sense of scale, this is the equivalent of finding more in two years than will be cut from the tax credit budget in seven (£9bn). Alternatively, it would mean raising VAT from 20% to 21%. Hardly options that will help to ease the decade-long squeeze on living standards.

In reality, any post-2015 government would be likely to adopt a combination of measures. In particular, we can expect to hear more in the coming weeks and months about a potential cap on ‘structural’ aspects of Annually Managed Expenditure (AME). While both the government and the opposition have declared an intention to grapple with these aspects of spending, practical and political constraints mean their options are limited. Once we rule out the non-welfare parts of AME (e.g. debt interest payments) and politically-sensitive benefits (the state pension) that leaves less than one-third to work with. Within this envelope, housing benefit, tax credits and the employment and support allowance would appear to be in line for cuts. Determining which aspects of such payments are structural and which are cyclical will be a difficult task.

Finally, we might expect calls for cuts in pensioner benefits to intensify. Under current plans, the proportion of welfare spending accounted for by the State Pension and associated benefits is set to increase from 42% in 2010-11 to 48% in 2017-18. The government’s ‘triple lock’ means that this is a product not just of demographics, but of increased generosity per pensioner. Average pensioner payments are set to increase by 6% over the period at the same time as average working-age support declines by 15%.

Of course, we shouldn’t forget that all of these numbers depend heavily on deeply uncertain estimates of the output gap, a figure that has been revised dramatically in the past and may well be revised again. But it’s difficult to see past the likelihood that the post-election period will bring with it a new suite of difficult choices, from departmental cuts that look increasingly hard to deliver to further cuts to working-age support or the introduction of unannounced tax rises. Ultimately, we might be looking at further slippage in the deficit-reduction timetable. Don’t rule out the chance of it being all four.

Matthew Whittaker is senior economist at the Resolution Foundation

George Osborne during a visit to a branch of Lloyds bank on June 19, 2013 in London. Photograph: Getty Images.

Matthew Whittaker is senior economist at the Resolution Foundation

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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit