Labour needs to go much further on fiscal responsibility

The party should publish a series of potential fiscal rules for discussion and replace the VAT cut with a stimulus based on growth-raising capital investment.

Labour has made a start on re-establishing its fiscal credibility but it now must go further than any opposition has done previously – and soon. Recent announcements on fiscal responsibility and welfare reform were pivotal. Having accepted that it can’t simply oppose, Labour is now free to advocate a political approach that is genuinely different to that of the Tories – placing the pursuit of social justice, greater employment, pay and growth at the heart of a fiscally responsible agenda.

When a paper called In the Black Labour was published by Policy Network at the end of December 2011, there was a storm in the Labour teacup. The party started to move towards a fiscally conservative stance but that was soon reversed under some political pressure. Many critics accused the paper of adopting George Osborne’s fiscal and economic stance. This was strange given that Osborne’s strategy of austerity before growth wasn’t fiscal conservatism, but fiscal-self harm which has led to a series of missed deficit targets.

Having resumed the path to a fiscally responsible policy 18 months later, Labour now needs to go further. To ensure fiscal responsibility, while preserving counter-cyclical flexibility, Labour should publish a series of potential fiscal rules for discussion in the expert community, identify preferred public expenditure pathways under different growth scenarios and have these tested independently. Any stimulus would need to be focused on growth-raising capital spend. Therefore, questions should be asked about a stimulus based on a VAT cut, even if temporary in nature. Labour should consider dropping this policy – and soon.

In government, these choices should be monitored by a strengthened Office for Budget Responsibility, or Fiscal Council, who would assess whether government is likely to deliver on its fiscal rules, and to make recommendations if the targets are missed. These proposals mean Labour opening its plans to greater scrutiny at an early stage than any opposition has done before, while still allowing room for manoeuvre should growth hasten or slow. Such scrutiny will make it clear how little money there is, so spare resources must be focused on generating growth through capital investment, helping the unemployed into work, encouraging business investment, and promoting science, education and skills.

Shifting from short-term expenditure to long-term investment and developing sound fiscal rules to ensure sustainable debt levels will be useful tools to help deliver a reduction in debt. However, these measures alone will not be enough to advance social justice in an era of limited budgets.

It also poses questions for welfare policy. Housing has attracted particular attention but the challenge of containing housing benefit budgets is far wider. Yes, more houses are needed but incomes for the most vulnerable, in-work support for those with disabilities and high impact job brokerage, like that seen in Newham, are also required. It is in providing all these supports and services that welfare spending should be focused. None of this will be revolutionary but it will make a measurable difference – the politics of austerity are harder. Spending elsewhere, for example on support for the better off and on above-inflation pension commitments, will have to be reduced.

This also raises the question of tax revenue. From a purely fiscally conservative perspective, the mixture of tax rises and spending cuts is broadly irrelevant (despite fervent academic debates about this issue), so long as deficits are reduced. From the point of view of social justice, however, trying to deliver 80 per cent of deficit reduction from cuts would involve an unacceptable breach of our national social fabric and would, in all likelihood, prove counter-productive. If people are therefore going to be asked to pay more tax it becomes even more important to be open about constraints and choices at an early stage – consent must be earned. The radical realisation among the more savvy on the centre-left is that spending is no longer the shortcut to social justice that it once seemed.

The state still has significant levers. For example, we live in an economy populated by almost 5 million businesses – a 40 per cent increase in only a decade and a six-fold increase since the 1970s. The vast majority of these businesses are sole traders or micro-enterprises. Many are challenging the way big businesses operate with innovative approaches; many bring benefits to their communities that many larger operations struggle to emulate,  not least keeping the wealth they generate local. Yet big business enjoys all sorts of advantages over smaller business, including access to legal action, patent restrictions, expensive regulatory constraints, access to prime space, favour by government procurement and planning law.

Challenging the bias in favour of big business would help release the spirit of entrepreneurial activity in communities across the UK that would not just drive growth and innovation but allow a fairer distribution of wealth.

Labour could place itself firmly on the side of these millions of worker-businesses committed to creating as level a playing field as possible through planning reform, tax changes, access to intellectual property, finance, international markets and marketing support.

If Labour aims to focus resources on supporting growth, putting the economy on a sustainable long term footing and fulfilling the left’s mission of being on the side of the many, not the few, then social justice, economic efficiency and, indeed, fiscal conservatism will go hand-in-hand. The choices are hard, the solutions tougher, but that is the nature of pursuing social justice in fiscally and economically constrained times. It’s better to start early. Labour has now done that but it’s only a start.

Hopi Sen and Anthony Painter have co-written Moving Labour into the Black published by Policy Network with Adam Lent

Ed Miliband and Ed Balls at the Labour conference in Manchester last year. Photograph: Getty Images.

Hopi Sen is a former head of campaigns at the Parliamentary Labour Party and blogs at www.hopisen.com

Anthony Painter is a political writer, commentator and researcher. His new book Left Without A Future? is published in July

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It's easy to see where Berlin is being rebuilt – just hit the streets

My week, from walking the streets of Berlin to class snobbery and the right kind of gentrification.

Brick by brick, block by block, the people are rebuilding the city once called Faust’s Metropolis. To see it clearly, put your boots on. One of the most bracing walks starts by the Gethsemane Church, which served as a haven for dissenters in the last days of the GDR and takes you down ­towards the Hackescher Markt.

Here, in what is still the eastern half of a divided city that wears its division more lightly, is a Berlin experience both old and new. In three decades of frequent visits, it has been fascinating to note how much this part of town has changed. Even a decade ago these streets were rundown. With crumbling buildings showing bulletholes, it wasn’t hard to imagine what the place looked like in 1945. Now there are lilacs, blues, and yellows. Cafés, bars and restaurants abound, serving the young professionals attracted to the city by cheap rents and a renewed sense of community.

 

Breaking the fourth wall

Looking north along Schliemannstraße, you’ll find a delightful vista of well-tended balconies. It’s a pleasant place to live, notwithstanding the gaggle of grotesques who gather round the corner in the square. On Kastanienallee, which forms the second leg of the walk, an old city feels young. It’s a kind of gentrification but the right kind. There’s more to eat, to drink, to buy, for all.

Berlin, where Bertolt Brecht staged his unwatchable plays, was supposed to have been transformed by a proletarian revolution. Instead, it has been restored to health by a very middle-class one. Germany has always had a well-educated middle class, and the nation’s restoration would have impossible without such people. The irony is delicious – not that irony buttered many parsnips for “dirty Bertie”.

 

The new snobbery

The British Museum’s survey of German history “Memories of a Nation” is being presented at the Martin-Gropius-Bau as “The British View”. Germans, natürlich, are curious to see how we observe them. But how do they see us?

A German friend recently in England  said that the images that struck him most forcibly were the tins of food and cheap booze people piled up in supermarkets, and the number of teenage girls pushing prams. Perhaps Neil MacGregor, the former director of the British Museum who will shortly take up a similar role here at the new Humboldt Forum, may turn his attention to a “German View” of the United Kingdom.

There’s no shortage of material. In Schlawinchen, a bar that typifies Kreuzberg’s hobohemia, a college-educated English girl was trying to explain northern England to an American she had just met. Speaking in an ugly modern Mancunian voice that can only be acquired through years of practice (sugar pronounced as “sug-oar”), she refer­red to Durham and York as “middle class, you know, posh”, because those cities had magnificent cathedrals.

When it comes to inverted snobbery, no nation can match us. To be middle class in Germany is an indication of civic value. In modern England, it can mark you as a leper.

 

Culture vultures

The Humboldt Forum, taking shape by the banks of the Spree, reconsecrates the former site of the GDR’s Palace of the Republic. When it opens in 2018 it will be a “living exhibition”, dedicated to all the cultures of the world. Alexander von Humboldt, the naturalist and explorer, was the brother of Wilhelm, the diplomat and philosopher, whose name lives on in the nearby university.

In Potsdamerplatz there are plans to build a modern art museum, crammed in between the Neue Nationalgalerie and the Philharmonie, home to the Berlin Philharmonic. Meanwhile, the overhaul of the Deutsche Staatsoper, where Daniel Barenboim is music director for life, is likely to be completed, fingers crossed, next autumn.

Culture everywhere! Or perhaps that should be Kultur, which has a slightly different meaning in Germany. They take these things more seriously, and there is no hint of bogus populism. In London, plans for a new concert hall have been shelved. Sir Peter Hall’s words remain true: “England is a philistine country that loves the arts.”

 

European neighbours

When Germans speak of freedom, wrote A J P Taylor, a historian who seems to have fallen from favour, they mean the freedom to be German. No longer. When modern Germans speak of freedom, they observe it through the filter of the European Union.

But nation states are shaped by different forces. “We are educated to be obedient,” a Berlin friend who spent a year at an English school once told me. “You are educated to be independent.” To turn around Taylor’s dictum: when the English speak of freedom,
they mean the freedom to be English.

No matter what you may have heard, the Germans have always admired our independence of spirit. We shall, however, always see “Europe” in different ways. Europe, good: we can all agree on that. The European Union, not so good. It doesn’t mean we have to fall out, and the Germans are good friends to have.

 

Hook, line and sinker

There are fine walks to be had in the west, too. In Charlottenburg, the Kensington of Berlin, the mood is gentler, yet you can still feel the city humming. Here, there are some classic places to eat and drink – the Literaturhauscafé for breakfast and, for dinner, Marjellchen, a treasure trove of east Prussian forest delights. Anything that can be shot and put in a pot!

For a real Berlin experience, though, head at nightfall for Zwiebelfisch, the great tavern on Savignyplatz, and watch the trains glide by on the other side of Kantstraße. Hartmut Volmerhaus, a most amusing host, has been the guvnor here for more than 30 years and there are no signs that his race is run. The “Fisch” at twilight: there’s nowhere better to feel the pulse of this remarkable city. 

This article first appeared in the 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage