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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Why is it called Storm Doris? The psychological impact of naming a storm

“Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person.”

“Oh, piss off Doris,” cried the nation in unison this morning. No, it wasn't that everyone's local cantankerous old lady had thwacked our ankles with her stick. This is a different, more aggressive Doris. Less Werther’s, more extreme weathers. Less bridge club, more bridge collapse.

This is Storm Doris.

A storm that has brought snow, rain, and furious winds up to 94mph to parts of the UK. There are severe weather warnings of wind, snow and ice across the entire country.

But the real question here is: why is it called that? And what impact does the new Met Office policy of naming storms have on us?

Why do we name storms?

Storm Doris is the latest protagonist in the Met Office’s decision to name storms, a pilot scheme introduced in winter 2015/16 now in its second year.

The scheme was introduced to draw attention to severe weather conditions in Britain, and raise awareness of how to prepare for them.

How do we name storms?

The Name our Storms initiative invites the public to suggest names for storms. You can do this by tweeting the @metoffice using the #nameourstorms hashtag and your suggestion, through its Facebook page, or by emailing them.

These names are collated along with suggestions from Met Éireann and compiled into a list. These are whittled down into 21 names, according to which were most suggested – in alphabetical order and alternating between male and female names. This is done according to the US National Hurricane Naming convention, which excludes the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z because there are thought to be too few common names beginning with these letters.

They have to be human names, which is why suggestions in this list revealed by Wired – including Apocalypse, Gnasher, Megatron, In A Teacup (or Ena Tee Cup) – were rejected. The Met Office received 10,000 submissions for the 2016/17 season. According to a spokesperson, a lot of people submit their own names.

Only storms that could have a “medium” or “high” wind impact in the UK and Ireland are named. If there are more than 21 storms in a year, then the naming system starts from Alpha and goes through the Greek alphabet.

The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.

Why does this violent storm have the name of an elderly lady?

Doris is an incongruous name for this storm, so why was it chosen? A Met Office spokesperson says they were just at that stage in their list of names, and there’s no link between the nature of the storm and its name.

But do people send cosy names for violent weather conditions on purpose? “There’s all sorts in there,” a spokesperson tells me. “People don’t try and use cosy names as such.”

What psychological impact does naming storms have on us?

We know that giving names to objects and animals immediately gives us a human connection with them. That’s why we name things we feel close to: a pet owner names their cat, a sailor names their boat, a bore names their car. We even name our virtual assistants –from Microsoft’s Clippy to Amazon’s Alexa.

This gives us a connection beyond practicality with the thing we’ve named.

Remember the response of Walter Palmer, the guy who killed Cecil the Lion? “If I had known this lion had a name and was important to the country or a study, obviously I wouldn’t have taken it,” he said. “Nobody in our hunting party knew before or after the name of this lion.”

So how does giving a storm a name change our attitude towards it?

Evidence suggests that we take it more seriously – or at least pay closer attention. A YouGov survey following the first seven named storms in the Met Office’s scheme shows that 55 per cent of the people polled took measures to prepare for wild weather after hearing that the oncoming storm had been named.

“There was an immediate acceptance of the storm names through all media,” said Gerald Fleming, Head of Forecasting at Met Éireann, the Irish metereological service. “The severe weather messages were more clearly communicated.”

But personalising a storm can backfire. A controversial US study in 2014 by PNAC (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences) claimed that hurricanes with female names lead to higher death tolls – the more “feminine” the name, like Belle or Cindy, the higher the death toll. This is not because female names are attached to more severe storms; it is reportedly because people take fewer steps to prepare for storms with names they perceive to be unintimidating or weak.

“In judging the intensity of a storm, people appear to be applying their beliefs about how men and women behave,” Sharon Shavitt, a co-author of the study, told the FT at the time. “This makes a female-named hurricane . . . seem gentler and less violent.”

Names have social connotations, and affect our subconscious. Naming a storm can raise awareness of it, but it can also affect our behaviour towards it.

What’s it like sharing a name with a deadly storm?

We should also spare a thought for the impact sharing a name with a notorious weather event can have on a person. Katrina Nicholson, a nurse who lives in Glasgow, says it was “horrible” when the 2005 hurricane – one of the fifth deadliest ever in the US – was given her name.

“It was horrible having something so destructive associated with my name. Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person,” she tells me over email. “I actually remember at the time meeting an American tourist on a boat trip in Skye and when he heard my name he immediately linked it to the storm – although he quickly felt guilty and then said it was a lovely name! I think to this day there will be many Americans who hate my name because of it.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.