Robert Chote, the chairman of the Office for Budget Responsibility.
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The OBR should be given the power to adjust tax rates

Just as an independent Bank of England has helped ensure monetary stability, so a more powerful OBR could ensure fiscal sustainability.

On Wednesday, George Osborne will present his first Budget delivered during a period of economic growth. Despite a deficit forecast to be £111bn and the highest national debt since England last won the World Cup, he is under pressure from both sides of the coalition to reduce taxes, whether on low earners via the personal allowance or middle earners by cutting the higher rate threshold. It is entirely reasonable that politicians are seeking to take advantage of growth forecasts ahead of what will be a closely-fought election. But the last thing the Chancellor can or will do is put further pressure on the public finances via major tax reductions. He will announce improved borrowing projections but he will emphasise that the deficit and debt are the defining challenges, and that they are proving harder to overcome than he expected.

Ahead of the 2015 election, both major parties are jockeying to be seen as the safest pair of hands on the public finances. Both Osborne and Ed Balls have acknowledged the depth of the UK's problems and committed to tough deficit reduction targets. Osborne has pledged to achieve an absolute budget surpus by the end of the next parliament and will introduce a new Charter of Budget Responsibility in this year's Autumn Statement (to  "fix the roof when the sun is shining"), while Balls has promised to run a current budget surplus (leaving room to borrow for investment). 

Short-sighted handling of the public finances has contributed enormously to the economic mess that the UK finds itself in. For the past 20 years, Britain has seen debt steadily climb as successive governments have spent heavily in recessions but failed to save enough in booms. On average, the response to recessions has been 70 per cent greater than the surplus generated in good times. That has lead to a "debt ratchet" that causes debt to rise over each business cycle. Today, the national debt is about £124bn higher than it would have been if the ratchet did not exist.

One reason for the its existence is a persistent overconfidence among politicians and officials. Twenty one of the 25 official forecasts since 2002 have projected that the current budget will return to surplus within five years. When he entered office in 2010, Osborne even adopted that yardstick as one of his two fiscal targets. Yet the budget has not once been in surplus in the past 12 years. 

In 2002, Gordon Brown introduced a set of fiscal rules that the IMF rated as some of the best in the world. The Treasury monitored compliance and the National Audit Office looked over its shoulder. In 2010, Osborne introduced his own, tougher, rules and he looks set to introduce a new rule as part of his Charter of Budget Responsibility. These measures have been the equal of anything seen around the world but all have been broken within a decade and all have been insufficient to avoid the debt ratchet persisting.

One solution that has been exceptionally effective is this government's creation of the Office of Budget Responsibility (OBR), which has dealt with the UK's forecasting problems. Set up in 2010 to resolve persistent errors, the OBR has gradually built its credibility through impartiality and transparency. It has forced the Chancellor to adjust his Budgets on a number of occasions when the numbers did not measure up. So successful has it been that Balls wrote to its chairman Robert Chote to ask him to assess the opposition's manifesto pledges. The Chief Secretary to the Treasury Danny Alexander has since lent his support to the idea.

The expansion in the OBR's responsibilities is a worthwhile first step but it is capable of much more. In future, the OBR could take on responsibility for defining fiscal sustainability and, eventually, the power to adjust tax rates to ensure it. The government recognised that forecasting problems could be largely fixed by passing the responsibility to an independent body. The same may well be true of fiscal sustainability more generally.

The Bank of England is a powerful illustration of how beneficial it can be to delegate operational decisions to an independent, expert body. The Bank's independence ensured that the nation avoided a damaging tightening of monetary policy in the midst of the recession. The same cannot be said of fiscal policy where the latest estimates suggest that consolidation has cost the UK around 3 per cent of GDP so far. That cost might have been avoided if debt and the deficit smaller had been lower when the crisis began.

Successful fiscal councils overseas demonstrate the need to balance responsibility with credibility. The Dutch CPB is an established part of the political landscape and plays an instrumental role in setting budgets and evaluating manifesto pledges. In the US, the Congressional Budget Office assesses alternative policy options for the government. The credibility of these institutions has been built over decades and it would be a mistake to give the OBR too much responsibility too fast. Nonetheless, evaluating manifestos should be the beginning of the OBR's expanding set of responsibilities, not the end.

James Zuccollo is senior economist at Reform

James Zuccollo is senior economist at Reform

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.