I have said it many times before, but it is worth repeating that the on-the-day take of the UK Budget often misses much of the nuance. This is hardly surprising: we are bombarded with a huge amount of material which takes time to digest, and only once the dust has settled can we give a sober assessment, free from the imperative to say something quickly. But perhaps the most important takeaway is that we – and by we, I mean the electorate as a whole, but particularly politicians and the media – should stop treating a serious area of economic policy as if it were a piece of theatre. Fiscal policy has important implications, both at a microeconomic and macroeconomic level: The decisions taken on Budget day impact on household finances but also affect the nation’s creditworthiness. One might be forgiven for forgetting some of these bigger issues given the faux outrage generated by political opponents and the reaction in parts of the media (this is not a party political point: it is true irrespective of the party in office).
Communication breakdown
As for the framing of the Budget, shambles would be a polite description. Communication ahead of the Budget was characterised by the flotation of various fiscal ideas, as the government released a number of trial balloons, with the Chancellor Rachel Reeves hinting on 4 November that a manifesto-busting hike in income tax rates was on the cards. Just days later, however, the government rolled back on this policy. As the spin doctors got to work to explain the apparent U-turn, we were told that the official forecasts were likely to show a smaller black hole in the fiscal accounts than previously thought and that a rise in income tax rates was unnecessary. Instead a “smorgasbord” of smaller tax increases would be sufficient to ensure that the government could meet its fiscal rules.
But on 28
November, two days after the Budget, the
narrative changed to suggest that in fact the OBR had informed the Chancellor
as early as 31 October that she could still balance the current budget on a
five year horizon, even without major tax hikes. Admittedly the margin was too
small for comfort and some fiscal adjustment was still necessary, but it
appeared to be a far less dramatic problem than we were led to believe.
Not too long ago, the pre-Budget
period was characterised by ‘purdah’, with public officials prevented from
making any comment on its content on pain of sanction. Once upon a time, monetary
policy also used to be conducted in secret in the belief that surprising the
market was the most effective means of policy control. The economic literature
has since come to the conclusion that clarity and predictability are the corner
stones of sound monetary policy. But this is not what we got in the four weeks
prior to the Budget, which was characterised by mixed messaging and confusion,
none of which helped to shore up fiscal credibility and served only to heighten
market volatility. Silence can indeed be golden.
The shambolic communication extended to Budget day itself when the OBR’s main publication was released tothe public before the Chancellor had a chance to inform parliament of her fiscal plans. It is not for me to say whether that was a breach of the law but it was certainly a breach of protocol. Nor do I have any strong views as to what, if any, sanctions should be imposed. But Chris Giles, writing in the FT, noted that: “The OBR’s error is worse than other Budget leaks because the fiscal watchdog exists solely to improve the process and has failed in its main job. The disaster exposes the OBR to future political questions and undermines the case for independent economic institutions … If the OBR cannot organise its document handling, how can we trust it to get the judgment on productivity or the tax richness of GDP forecasts right?”
Giles did not explicitly call for the OBR’s Chair, Richard Hughes, to be sacked
but he certainly hinted that he should be left alone in the study with a
pearl-handled revolver. This seems a little harsh given all the anonymous leaks
to which we have been subject over the last month.
Was the economics any better?
The answer to that question
depends on what we think is the primary objective of the Budget. In my view,
those who believe the Chancellor did not do enough to boost growth are missing
the point. In
the words of the Parliament website, the Budget “is a statement … on the
nation’s finances and the Government’s proposals for changes to taxation.”
Essentially, the Chancellor has two instruments at her disposal – taxation and
spending – to control two quantities (revenues and outlays). Using the tax
instrument to target both revenues and growth is asking for trouble. Indeed,
the Tinbergen rule states that there must be at least as many independent
policy instruments as there are independent policy objectives to achieve them
efficiently.
Focusing on the more narrow fiscal questions, however, a lot of awkward questions remain to be answered. Starting with the fiscal rules, the good news is that the OBR’s forecasts suggest they will be met. The Chancellor has a bigger buffer (£22bn) to accommodate any narrowing of the current surplus by 2029-30 (this was a mere £9.9bn in March). However, the OBR only assigns a 59% probability to the chance this will be achieved: While this is the highest in the post-Covid era, it is far from a ringing endorsement (chart above).
The supplementary target for public sector net
financial liabilities (PSNFL) to be falling in 2029-30 is also met in the
central forecast, but the probability assigned to this target is just 52%. Indeed,
a debt-to-GDP ratio currently close to 90% and set to go higher means that debt
servicing costs are highly vulnerable to swings in bond yields. Around 9% of
revenues are currently used merely to pay debt interest: At a time when there
are so many other competing demands on public finances, this makes debt
reduction an imperative (chart below).
A lot has been said and written about the individual fiscal measures and there is little point in rehashing it here (see the IFS analysis for more detailed insight). But a few things are noteworthy: Rachel Reeves did say a year ago that she would not be coming back for more tax revenue following the rise in employer NICs. But she did, and the largest single measure was the extension of a freeze on income tax thresholds from 2028-29 which is set to generate roughly half of the additional tax revenue predicted by 2030-31. Although Reeves did not raise marginal income tax rates, this freeze implies an increase in average income tax rates as earners are pulled into higher tax bands thanks to inflation, hurting the lower paid. There is also a political dimension: A general election must be held no later than summer 2029. In the absence of any recovery in popularity, the government will be going into an election campaign on a platform of higher effective taxes. It is unlikely to be a vote winner and it is a policy which may not survive contact with political reality.
Trying to put it in context
As my colleagues at NIESR noted in
the wake of the Budget, it “locks in a high-tax, high-debt steady state in a
world of low productivity growth and higher interest rates. Even the
historically large tax share of GDP now planned is only just enough to
stabilise – not reduce – a debt ratio stuck around 100 per cent of GDP for the
foreseeable future … there was a notable lack of economic vision beyond
clearing fiscal hurdles. Reforms to the triple lock, council tax, and VAT were
pushed into the background while the Chancellor focused – justifiably – on
meeting the fiscal rules.”
In other words, the Chancellor – like most of her predecessors – continued to dance around the elephant in the room, goaded on by a rabid commentariat in thrall to the economics of the 1980s. Either voters have to accept that they will have to stump up for the public services they say they want, or they will have to find alternatives. Over the past 40 years, successive governments have told the electorate that consumers are best placed to spend their own money and that they want to put more money back into their pockets.
This is a laudable objective, but what governments failed to point out
is that a smaller state means that voters will have to pay more out of their
own money for certain services. More money in voters pockets means less goes
to the NHS so if consumers want the same quality of service, they will have to
pay more for private health cover. Implicitly, Reeves did drop hints in this direction
in her Budget speech. But it is an unpopular message and if a government with a
148 seat majority in parliament is unable or unwilling to make the case, we should
not hold our breath that we will be able to have an adult conversation about
fiscal trade-offs any time soon.



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