George Osborne stands with his Treasury team before the Budget. Photograph: Getty Images.
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The coalition's welfare cap puts politics before policy

Osborne has failed to design the cap in a way that will advance structural reforms to housing and wages.

As expected, today’s Budget included further details about the long-trailed "welfare cap". A rough calculation suggests it will cover over 90 per cent of benefit and tax credit expenditure, excluding the Basic State Pension, with only those most cyclical elements, linked to Jobseeker's Allowance left outside. Interestingly, the extra childcare support announced by the government yesterday will fall within its scope.

Most significantly, the Chancellor set the level of the cap, which in the first instance will simply track the current OBR projections for spending on those benefits and tax credits in scope (starting in 2015/16 and extending over the following five years). This reflects coalition reality: the Liberal Democrats have long signalled their unwillingness to sign off further social security cuts that would have been required to set a cap below the forecast. This means that, for now, the "cap" has no policy effect: the government is simply committing to operate future policy on the basis of not overshooting the (current) estimate for welfare spending over the coming years.

Of course the real political impact of today’s announcement will come as the general election draws closer. It is a racing certainty that the Conservatives will pledge to lower the cap in their manifesto, to make room for tax cuts, faster deficit reduction or even (if they wanted to make life particularly difficult for Labour) an increase in NHS spending. They will hope to paint both the other main parties as defenders of higher welfare expenditure, which polls tell them is unpopular with large sections of voters.

Labour has already taken steps to protect itself against this well-telegraphed political move, by highlighting how working families would be in the front line of further assaults on benefits and tax credits and that a plan for generating genuine savings (not just arbitrary cuts) requires reforms that address the structural drivers of social security spending – like unemployment, low pay and an inadequate supply of affordable homes.

Given this goal – shifting the balance of expenditure from the "costs of failure" to productive investments – the principle of a "welfare cap" should not be dismissed out of hand. The Chancellor is right to say that there is currently little strategic decision making about social security spending and little attention is paid to (or action following from) expenditure overshooting the forecast.

To take the most egregious example: the large rises in Housing Benefit expenditure in the twenty years before the financial crisis, at a time when the number of households receiving help to pay the rent stayed broadly flat, should have triggered a major focus on those trends, leading to serious reform of policy and spending. It did not – and the consequence was extreme vulnerability of the benefits system to an economic shock, with large numbers of people in more expensive private rented accommodation. When the crisis hit, Housing Benefit shot up and in response we have seen a series of arbitrary attempts to hack back costs (like the "bedroom tax") which are entirely unrelated to the causes of rising expenditure in the first place.

Given the medium-term pressure on the public finances, forcing more strategic decision making about welfare spending is essential. But in this context, the Chancellor has today lent too heavily on the political dividing line and not enough on designing the cap in a way that would advance structural reforms. While set over five years, on a rolling basis, the government’s cap will "bite" on an annual basis, with an OBR warning about overshooting in an Autumn Statement requiring compensating action in the following Budget. This will drive emergency cuts, not long-term savings. Also, what was sorely lacking today was any serious analysis from the OBR about the trends and drivers of welfare spending, which is vital for policy makers and the public to understand the factors underpinning why expenditure is rising (or falling).

Two other points are worth noting. First, the cap has been set in nominal (cash) terms. This means that higher expenditure driven by inflation will trigger policy action, which risks locking in lower living standards for those reliant on benefits. General prices rises, feeding though into uprating decisions, does not count as a structural driver of spending. The Chancellor set out a "margin of error" of two per cent around the forecast which will not trigger action. This is in line with forecasts for CPI over the forthcoming years.

Second, the cap makes no distinction between contributions-based and incomes-based benefit spending, consistent with the drift of social security policy over the last three decades. However they are different and should be treated so. Entitlement to contributory benefits should stand outside the mainstream of government revenues, with its financing secured by National Insurance Contributions. Taking National Insurance benefits out of the cap and strengthening the integrity of the National Insurance Fund could play a big part in advancing political aspirations to restore the contributory principle in the years ahead.

Graeme Cooke is Associate Director at IPPR

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Stop saying identity politics caused Trump

It's a wildly unsophisticated analysis that ignores the fact that all politics is inflected by identity.

Look, I don't mean to be funny, but is there something in the water supply? When Mark Lilla wrote his jeremiad against "identity liberalism" in the New York Times, it was comprehensively picked over and rebutted. But this zombie take has risen again. In the last 24 hours, all these tweets have drifted across my timeline:

And then this (now deleted, I think, probably because I was mean about it on Twitter).

And finally, for the hat-trick . . .

Isn't it beautiful to see a Blairite, a Liberal Leaver and a Corbynite come together like this? Maybe there is a future for cross-spectrum, consensual politics in this country.

These are all versions of a criticism which has swilled around since Bernie Sanders entered the US presidential race, and ran on a platform of economic populism. They have been turbocharged by Sanders' criticisms since the result, where he blamed Clinton's loss on her attempt to carve up the electorate into narrow groups. And they are now repeated ad nauseam by anyone wanting to sound profound: what if, like, Black Lives Matter are the real racists, yeah? Because they talk about race all the time.

This glib analysis has the logical endpoint that if only people didn't point out racism or sexism or homophobia, those things would be less of a problem. Talking about them is counterproductive, because it puts people's backs up (for a given definition of "people"). She who smelt it, dealt it.

Now, I have strong criticisms of what I would call Pure Identity Politics, unmoored from economics or structural concerns. I have trouble with the idea of Caitlyn Jenner as an "LGBT icon", given her longstanding opposition to gay marriage and her support for an administration whose vice-president appears to think you can electrocute the gay out of people. I celebrate female leaders even if I don't agree with their politics, because there shouldn't be an additional Goodness Test which women have to pass to be deemed worthy of the same opportunities as men. But I don't think feminism's job is done when there are simply a few more female CEOs or political leaders, particularly if (as is now the case) those women are more likely than their male peers to be childless. Role models only get you so far. Structures are important too.

I also think there are fair criticisms to be made of the Clinton campaign, which was brave - or foolish, depending on your taste - to associate her so explicitly with progressive causes. Stephen Bush and I have talked on the podcast about how hard Barack Obama worked to reassure White America that he wasn't threatening, earning himself the ire of the likes of Cornel West. Hillary Clinton was less mindful of the feelings of both White America and Male America, running an advert explicitly addressed to African-Americans, and using (as James Morris pointed out to me on Twitter) the slogan "I'm With Her". 

Watching back old Barack Obama clips (look, everyone needs a hobby), it's notable how many times he stressed the "united" in "united states of America". It felt as though he was trying to usher in a post-racial age by the sheer force of his rhetoric. 

As Obama told Ta-Nehisi Coates during his last days in office, he thought deeply about how to appeal to all races: 

"How do I pull all these different strains together: Kenya and Hawaii and Kansas, and white and black and Asian—how does that fit? And through action, through work, I suddenly see myself as part of the bigger process for, yes, delivering justice for the [African American community] and specifically the South Side community, the low-income people—justice on behalf of the African American community. But also thereby promoting my ideas of justice and equality and empathy that my mother taught me were universal. So I’m in a position to understand those essential parts of me not as separate and apart from any particular community but connected to every community."

Clinton's mistake was perhaps that she thought this caution was no longer needed.

So there are criticisms of "identity politics" that I accept, even as I wearily feel that - like "neoliberalism" - it has become a bogeyman, a dumpster for anything that people don't like but don't care to articulate more fully.

But there are caveats, and very good reasons why anyone pretending to a sophisticated analysis of politics shouldn't say that "identity politics caused Trump".

The first is that if you have an identity that any way marks you out from the norm, you can't change that. Hillary Clinton couldn't not be the first woman candidate from a major party running for the US presidency. She either had to embrace it, or downplay it. Donald Trump faced no such decision. 

The second is that, actually, Clinton didn't run an explicitly identity-focused campaign on the ground, at least not in terms of her being a woman. Through the prism of the press, and because of the rubbernecker's dream that is misogyny on social media, her gender inevitably loomed large. But as Rebecca Solnit wrote in the LRB:

"The Vox journalist David Roberts did a word-frequency analysis on Clinton’s campaign speeches and concluded that she mostly talked about workers, jobs, education and the economy, exactly the things she was berated for neglecting. She mentioned jobs almost 600 times, racism, women’s rights and abortion a few dozen times each. But she was assumed to be talking about her gender all the time, though it was everyone else who couldn’t shut up about it."

My final problem with the "identity politics caused Trump" argument is that it assumes that explicit appeals to whiteness and masculinity are not identity politics. That calling Mexicans "rapists" and promising to build a wall to keep them out is not identity politics. That promising to "make America great again" at the expense of the Chinese or other trading partners is not identity politics. That selling a candidate as an unreconstructed alpha male is not identity politics. When you put it that way, I do accept that identity politics caused Trump. But I'm guessing that's not what people mean when they criticise identity politics. 

Let's be clear: America is a country built on identity politics. The "all men" who were created equal notably excluded a huge number of Americans. Jim Crow laws were nothing if not identity politics. The electoral college was instituted to benefit southern slave-owners. This year's voting restrictions disproportionately affected populations which lean Democrat. There is no way to fight this without prompting a backlash: that's what happens when you demand that the privileged give up some of their perks. 

I don't know what the "identity politics caused Trump" guys want gay rights campaigners, anti-racism activists or feminists to do. Those on the left, like Richard Burgon, seem to want a "no war but the class war" approach, which would be all very well if race and gender didn't intersect with economics (the majority of unpaid care falls squarely on women; in the US, black households have far fewer assets than white ones.)

Those on the right, like Daniel Hannan, seem to just want people banging on about racism and homophobia to shut up because he, personally, finds it boring. Perhaps they don't know any old English poetry with which to delight their followers instead. (Actually, I think Hannan might have hit on an important psychological factor in some of these critiques: when conversations centre on anti-racism, feminism and other identity movements, white men don't benefit from their usual unearned assumption of expertise in the subject at hand. No wonder they find discussion of them boring.)

Both of these criticisms end up in the same place. Pipe down, ladies. By complaining, you're only making it worse. Hush now, Black Lives Matter: white people find your message alienating. We'll sort out police racism... well, eventually. Probably. Just hold tight and see how it goes. Look, gay people, could you be a trifle... less gay? It's distracting.

I'm here all day for a discussion about the best tactics for progressive campaigners to use. I'm sympathetic to the argument that furious tweets, and even marches, have limited effect compared with other types of resistance.

But I can't stand by while a candidate wins on an identity-based platform, in a political system shaped by identity, and it's apparently the fault of the other side for talking too much about identity.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.