David Cameron and Ed Miliband walk through the Members' Lobby before the Queen's Speech at the State Opening of Parliament. Photograph: Getty Images.
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PMQs review: Miliband halts Cameron's advance on the economy

The Labour leader won a rare victory on the Tories' strongest territory. 

The fallout from the Autumn Statement and the focus on the cuts the Tories would make means that Labour is feeling better about its position on the economy than it has done for months. Voter anxiety about the threat to public services, they believe, could turn the election in their favour. In a sign of this new confidence, Ed Miliband led on the issue (on which the Conservatives have long held the advantage) at the final PMQs of the year. Noting that it was the Office for Budget Responsibility that first drew attention to the fact that public spending would fall to its lowest level since the 1930s under George Osborne's plans, he quipped: "Why does he believe the OBR has joined the BBC in a conspiracy against the Conservative Party?" Having been criticised in the past by Labour MPs for dropping messages too quickly, Miliband is determined to keep pushing the "1930s" line. 

Cameron replied that in real-terms public spending would merely fall to the same level as in 2002-03, but Miliband had a neat riposte: "He's spent four years saying we spent too much. Now he's saying we spent too little." The PM later turned to the deficit and the fact that Labour's plans would allow greater borrowing than the Conservatives'. But Ed Balls's pledge to cut the deficit every year and the Tories' promise of £7bn of unfunded tax cuts means that Miliband is better-armed than in the past. As well as creating a sense of risk around public services, Labour is now able to point to the danger of another VAT rise: something Cameron notably refused to rule out today. The PM was able to turn the leaked Labour strategy document on immigration to his advantage, highlighting its reference to the Conservatives' 17-point lead on managing the economy. But Miliband remained unruffled. The Labour leader never quite landed a knock-out blow. Yet given that the ecnomy is traditionally the Tories' strongest suit, and today's positive employment and earnings figures, Miliband will be content with a points victory. 

The two men's closing exchange neatly framed the battle to come: Miliband charged the Tories with a plan not for "balancing the books" but for "slashing the state". Cameron declared: "They can't talk about the deficit because it's fallen, they can't talk about growth because it's rising, they can't talk about jobs because we're increasing them." Miliband's aim is to persuade voters that the threat to public services is too great to award the Tories another term in government. Cameron's is to persuade them that the threat to growth and jobs is too great to gamble on an untested opposition. The election will likely turn on which scenario voters fear more. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit