Mervyn King gets his life peerage and a lollipop, the rest of us get more misery

The newly ennobled Mervyn King blames “a collective lack of imagination” for the financial crisis. We, all of us, failed to see the iceberg. The only problem is that most of us were in the engine room shovelling coal.

I have long been convinced that a life peerage is very much akin to a pacifier. If a significant figure is retiring from public life and has the potential to command media attention, give them a nice title on which to suck and stop kvetching, plus the ability to claim £300 a day for spending a couple of hours in the House of Lords. Giving them a formal public platform has the brilliantly counterintuitive effect of diminishing their future risk index by making them one of many within the Westminster bubble.

The success, or lack thereof, in their former post seems a secondary consideration. And so it is with Sir Mervyn King. This week George Osborne announced that the outgoing Governor of the Bank of England would be taking his place within our unelected pantheon of gown and wig after his retirement at the end of the month. Sporting metaphors blinked like newly born rabbits in the lights of the annual Bankers and Merchants dinner. “You had to play on a sticky wicket,” mused the Chancellor. It was “a game of two halves”, added King.

The only problem is that many would disagree with the post-match analysis – even to the basic level of whether team GB won or lost. We are still a long way off from recovering pre-crisis economic activity levels, unlike the US or Germany, for instance. Inflation has been consistently way above the BoE’s target for many months. Solutions like Funding for Lending appear to have had little impact – lending to SMEs has actually decreased under the scheme. Too little of the river of cash being pumped into the system via Quantitative Easing appears to have trickled through to the real economy – the allegation is that banks are using such schemes and cash to shore up their own balance sheets.

Mervyn King's involvement in the more political aspects of economic strategy has also, rightly, been contentious. Documents released in November 2010 showed an oddly keen involvement in the coalition’s personnel and policies. His blessing of the austerity programme, which has now been questioned even by the IMF, could be seen as almost co-authoring it.

There is also significant criticism of King’s running of the organisation in the “first half” – the one he would term the “nice half”. It is suggested, correctly in my view, that his obsessive focus on inflation targeting failed to take into account the downward pressure on prices created by cheap Chinese imports entering the UK market and so, in effect, allowed the economy “to run too hot during the boom years”. Coupled with very light touch banking regulation, this could be argued to have sown the seeds of the crisis which followed.

Arguably, however, the most distasteful and dishonourable part of his legacy is his attempt to absolve himself of all responsibility. His explanation last year on Radio 4 had a distinct whiff of “nothing to do with me, guv”.  This was a failure of “the system”, he claimed. Isn’t that the system which he oversaw from a key position? "With the benefit of hindsight, we should have shouted from the rooftops that a system had been built in which banks were too important to fail, that banks had grown too quickly and borrowed too much."

It was not hindsight that was lacking. It was plain old present sight. The growth of banks, the mergers, the risky ventures, the out-of-control borrowing – these were not things which happened in secret. They happened in plain sight and with state approval.

Mervyn King blames “a collective lack of imagination”. We, all of us, failed to see the iceberg. We are, apparently, collectively blameworthy. The only problem is that most of us were in the engine room shovelling coal. Mervyn King was one of the people on the bridge. More than that, since one of the BoE’s core purposes and strategic priorities is to “maintain stability and improve the resilience of the financial system”, he was specifically in charge of the looking-out-for-icebergs department.

In those circumstances, it is adding insult to injury for him to shout back from his peerage lifeboat to the rest of us, now drowning in a freezing sea of debt and austerity, “well, you didn’t see the iceberg either”. Why wouldn’t we want to keep this sort of expert, constructive and visionary input a part of our legislature for the rest of his natural life? Happy retirement, Sir Mervyn. We look forward to being blamed for future shipwrecks.

Sir Mervyn King gets a life peerage - the pacifier of public life. Photo: Getty

Greek-born, Alex Andreou has a background in law and economics. He runs the Sturdy Beggars Theatre Company and blogs here You can find him on twitter @sturdyalex

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After Article 50 is triggered, what happens next?

The UK must prepare for years, if not decades, of negotiating. 

Back in June, when Europe woke to the news of Brexit, the response was muted. “When I first emerged from my haze to go to the European Parliament there was a big sign saying ‘We will miss you’, which was sweet,” Labour MEP Seb Dance remembered at a European Commission event. “The German car industry said we don’t want any disruption of trade.”

But according to Dance – best known for holding up a “He’s Lying” sign behind Nigel Farage’s head – the mood has hardened with the passing months.

The UK is seen as demanding. The Prime Minister’s repeated refusal to guarantee EU citizens’ rights is viewed as toxic. The German car manufacturers now say the EU is more important than British trade. “I am afraid that bonhomie has evaporated,” Dance said. 

On 31 March the UK will trigger Article 50. Doing so will end our period of national soul-searching and begin the formal process of divorce. So what next?

The European Parliament will have its say

In the EU, just as in the UK, the European Parliament will not be the lead negotiator. But it is nevertheless very powerful, because MEPs can vote on the final Brexit deal, and wield, in effect, a veto.

The Parliament’s chief negotiator is Guy Verhofstadt, a committed European who has previously given Remoaners hope with a plan to offer them EU passports. Expect them to tune in en masse to watch when this idea is revived in April (it’s unlikely to succeed, but MEPs want to discuss the principle). 

After Article 50 is triggered, Dance expects MEPs to draw up a resolution setting out its red lines in the Brexit negotiations, and present this to the European Commission.

The European Commission will spearhead negotiations

Although the Parliament may provide the most drama, it is the European Commission, which manages the day-to-day business of the EU, which will lead negotiations. The EU’s chief negotiator is Michel Barnier. 

Barnier is a member of the pan-EU European People’s Party, like Jean-Claude Juncker and German Chancellor Angela Merkel. He has said of the negotiations: “We are ready. Keep calm and negotiate.”

This will be a “deal” of two halves

The Brexit divorce is expected to take 16 to 18 months from March (although this is simply guesswork), which could mean Britain officially Brexits at the start of 2019.

But here’s the thing. The divorce is likely to focus on settling up bills and – hopefully – agreeing a transitional arrangement. This is because the real deal that will shape Britain’s future outside the EU is the trade deal. And there’s no deadline on that. 

As Dance put it: “The duration of that trade agreement will exceed the life of the current Parliament, and might exceed the life of the next as well.”

The trade agreement may look a bit like Ceta

The European Parliament has just approved the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (Ceta) with Canada, a mammoth trade deal which has taken eight years to negotiate. 

One of the main stumbling points in trade deals is agreeing on similar regulatory standards. The UK currently shares regulations with the rest of the UK, so this should speed up the process.

But another obstacle is that national or regional parliaments can vote against a trade deal. In October, the rebellious Belgian region of Wallonia nearly destroyed Ceta. An EU-UK deal would be far more politically sensitive. 

The only way is forward

Lawyers working for the campaign group The People’s Challenge have argued that it will legally be possible for the UK Parliament to revoke Article 50 if the choice is between a terrible deal and no deal at all. 

But other constitutional experts think this is highly unlikely to work – unless a penitent Britain can persuade the rest of the EU to agree to turn back the clock. 

Davor Jancic, who lectures on EU law at Queen Mary University of London, believes Article 50 is irrevocable. 

Jeff King, a professor of law at University College London, is also doubtful, but has this kernel of hope for all the Remainers out there:

“No EU law scholar has suggested that with the agreement of the other 27 member states you cannot allow a member state to withdraw its notice.”

Good luck chanting that at a march. 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.