I have been very critical of the UK Conservative government
over the years – and with good reason – but just to show my even-handedness, I
thought it worthwhile to reflect on the performance of the opposition Labour
Party following the recent publication of its 2019 election review.
According to the authors of the report, Labour suffered a heavy election defeat
because Jeremy Corbyn was a deeply unpopular leader amongst the wider
electorate and its policy on Brexit was confused. The authors also referenced
deeper seated issues, as the party increasingly lost touch with its core
support – a problem which was masked by the relative outperformance relative to
expectations in 2017 – with the result that “Labour has a mountain to climb to get back into power in the next five
years.”
But cast your mind back five years, and three elections, ago
and Labour had just lost a general election in which they were expected to run
the Conservatives very close, running neck-and-neck in the opinion polls right
up until election day. Although it was anticipated they would win the most
seats, the Tories were expected to fall short of a majority and would be forced
to form another coalition with the Lib Dems. In the event, they won a majority
of 12 seats. Whilst the Tories then unleashed Brexit on an unsuspecting British
public, Labour went into full introspective mode and decided that the key
reasons for their defeat were: (i) the fact that they remained tarnished by the
myth the previous Labour government was responsible for crashing the
economy; (ii) an inability to deal with “issues of connection” like immigration
and benefits and (iii) Ed Miliband was judged to be not as strong a leader as
David Cameron.
Quite how the election of Jeremy Corbyn as leader following
Miliband’s resignation was meant to address any of those issues was lost on me
– and indeed most voters. In the words of The Economist “Mr Corbyn has been the party’s most
disastrous leader ever – not just useless … but positively malign.” That he
was unelectable as prime minister was obvious from day one. In a client note I
put out in September 2015 just after he was elected leader, I wrote “Simply put, Mr Corbyn is an old-fashioned
socialist and is a throwback (at least in British terms) to a political group
which was believed to have become extinct in the 1980s … Mr Corbyn is
unelectable. None of the analysis performed in the wake of the May general
election suggests that Labour failed to win a majority because it was not
sufficiently socialist – indeed, quite the opposite.” I take no pleasure in
being right.
Worse still, Corbyn was one of the facilitators of the breakdown
in current British politics. To quote
The Economist again, “his failure to
throw his party’s weight behind the Remain campaign contributed significantly
to Britain’s decision to leave the EU, which most of the membership opposed.
His refusal to meet Theresa May half-way during the dying days of her
administration killed off any chance of a soft Brexit. His extreme politics and
sanctimonious style drove traditional Labour voters into Boris Johnson’s arms.”
It is hard to disagree with any of this. Indeed, a lot of
the blame for the fact that Boris Johnson’s inept government can theoretically
continue in office for another four years can be laid at Corbyn’s door. But
bygones are bygones and the big question for Labour is whether the party can
recover. For my money, it can. For one thing, the election of Keir Starmer as
party leader has put a centrist politician in charge. I have noted previously
that Labour performs badly when it tacks too far to the left and Starmer will
drag them way from some of the positions supported by Corbyn which were
guaranteed vote losers. For the record, I am a university contemporary of
Starmer and remember him standing as a student politician on a moderate Labour
platform at a time when the party was run by left-wing zealots.
Whilst I maintain no party political affiliation it is
important for the health of democracy that a strong opposition is able to put
pressure on the government to act in the interests of all the people and not
just its supporters. The abject performance of Johnson and his government is a
reminder what happens when the opposition enables a poorly organised government
and fails to hold it to account. But as bad a prime minister as Johnson is
proving to be, few people believe that Corbyn would have been any better. Aside
from having to deal with the Covid-19 crisis, which would try any leader,
Labour’s position on Brexit was extremely muddled and it is far from clear how
they would have handled it. Politicians on all sides are to blame for the
disjointed position in which the UK finds itself. Naturally the government has
to carry the can. But Jeremy Corbyn’s failure to provide leadership when it was
most needed should neither be forgiven nor forgotten.
Monday, 22 June 2020
Wednesday, 17 June 2020
Get a grip
I received a text yesterday from an old friend who was
incensed at the conduct of Boris Johnson’s government over the provision of free
school meals to the children of poor families during the Covid-19 crisis.
For those not following the story, the Man United footballer Marcus Rashford issued a plea to the government to continue the practice during the summer but the
government announced on Monday that it would not do so. Following a host of
bad publicity on social media, the government yesterday reversed its stance. In
the words of my buddy, “The PM, no. 10
and the whole government have been made to look useless by a 22 year old
footballer.” He went on to make the point that the government’s inability
to make decisions on key policy matters is increasingly harming the electorate
be it health, the economy or Brexit.
He speaks for many. Indeed, the United Kingdom could not be a less appropriately named country at the present time. For one thing the fact that the monarch is a woman makes it a Queendom, but perhaps more importantly it is far from united. It is fighting what appears to be a culture war in which the respective factions see only the righteousness of their arguments whilst dismissing those of their opponents. What passes for public debate takes place in an echo chamber in which the volume is being cranked ever higher (viz. the demonstrations in the streets last weekend) and matters have come to a stage where people appear to identify more with what they oppose than what they support. As an economist who still believes in rational evidence-based policy, this is all very disheartening.
The origins of (culture) war
Like many wars, the origins of the present conflict lie deep in the past and people may differ as to the proximate causes. For my money, a key turning point occurred around 1979-80 with the election of neo-liberal governments in the US and UK which subsequently gave primacy to the markets over the state and heralded the breakup of the post-1945 consensus. It unleashed a conflict between traditionalists and progressives, conservatives and liberals, hawks and doves etc. The shared values which had characterised the reconstruction of the post-war global economic order began to fray, particularly following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
This was particularly apparent on the right of the US political spectrum, the lessons of which were absorbed by many in the UK. Remember the efforts by US Leader of the House Newt Gingrich to shut down Congress in 1995-96 purely for political reasons? Or the attempts to impeach President Clinton in 1998-99 as the political right became desperate to deliver a political knockout? This was followed by the rise of the Tea Party movement which subverted the Republican Party and propelled Donald Trump into the White House.
On this side of the Atlantic, the culture war has been fought less aggressively but it has been bubbling away nonetheless with some of the tricks from the US playbook having been adopted in the UK. The rise of the Tea Party is mirrored in the emergence of UKIP and the Brexit Party whilst the politically motivated Congressional shutdowns found expression in Boris Johnson’s attempt to prorogue parliament. The leitmotif of the UK culture war was Euroscepticism. Many Conservatives who never quite got over the deposition of Margaret Thatcher in 1990 rallied behind this cause, culminating in the Brexit referendum of 2016 and lighting the touchpaper of division which had been simmering for some time. For many on the right, Brexit represents the Trumpian equivalent of draining the swamp: It was the culture war writ large as Brexiteers made out that this was an opportunity for the politically disenfranchised to take back control. This was hogwash in 2016 and as the events of the past four years have shown, it still is.
Far from resolving anything, the divisions sown by Brexit have widened. The referendum was won by a narrow majority and the government has done nothing to assuage the concerns of those who voted Remain. And whilst it is true that in the December general election the party which promised to “get Brexit done” won the biggest parliamentary majority since 2001, much of the evidence suggests this was less due to the fact that people had a favourable image of the Conservatives than they had a negative view of the Labour Party under Jeremy Corbyn.
Boris Johnson’s problems are piling up
Whatever else we may think of Boris Johnson he is a brilliant political salesman – he is, in short, a populist. He is also a product of the culture war in which his set of political values is rooted in a vision of a glorious imperial past. But this is where he may run into difficulty. The tectonic plates of the culture war have shifted – maybe temporarily but perhaps sufficiently to cause more permanent damage. This finds expression in the current strength of the Black Lives Matter movement, which runs contrary to the Johnson view of the UK’s imperial past and threatens to heap more trouble on a government which is now feeling the pressure (for German speakers interested in a Swiss perspective, I liked this article in the NZZ).
His government’s handling of the Covid-19 crisis has been less than sure-footed and it has scored a number of own goals, most notably by failing to sanction Dominic Cummings, Johnson’s chief adviser, for breaking lockdown rules. It is also hard to imagine that the electorate will easily forgive the highest number of Covid deaths in Europe. We are only six months into what is scheduled to be a five year term for Johnson’s government. But the weaknesses inherent in his character mean that he has got off to a rocky start. As a populist, Johnson wants to keep as many people happy as he can but this is inconsistent with the credo of good governance which requires setting out a number of objectives and working out a plan how to achieve them.
These problems will be compounded by the fact the government will have to cope with the deepest recession in living memory. To turn things around from here requires discipline and hard work, neither of which the prime minister is noted for. I am reminded of the Conservative government of 1992-97 which was faced with an economic crisis early in its term (expulsion from the ERM) and which spent almost five years trying to get ahead of the agenda. It failed and was eventually swept aside by a Labour Party led by a moderate leader in the form of Tony Blair which condemned the Tories to 13 years in opposition.
This is not to say that we will necessarily see a rerun of the 1990s. But aside from getting Brexit done, it is not at all clear what Johnson’s government stands for. This makes it incredibly important that it gets Brexit right, by which we mean not compounding the economic damage. Failure to deliver on the signature policy at a time of mounting economic difficulties and the shifting sands of cultural change would end the career of most politicians. Boris Johnson is no ordinary politician but he has a lot of work to do to pull things around. Demonstrating leadership and running government to manage the country, rather than operating permanently in campaign mode, would be a good start.
He speaks for many. Indeed, the United Kingdom could not be a less appropriately named country at the present time. For one thing the fact that the monarch is a woman makes it a Queendom, but perhaps more importantly it is far from united. It is fighting what appears to be a culture war in which the respective factions see only the righteousness of their arguments whilst dismissing those of their opponents. What passes for public debate takes place in an echo chamber in which the volume is being cranked ever higher (viz. the demonstrations in the streets last weekend) and matters have come to a stage where people appear to identify more with what they oppose than what they support. As an economist who still believes in rational evidence-based policy, this is all very disheartening.
The origins of (culture) war
Like many wars, the origins of the present conflict lie deep in the past and people may differ as to the proximate causes. For my money, a key turning point occurred around 1979-80 with the election of neo-liberal governments in the US and UK which subsequently gave primacy to the markets over the state and heralded the breakup of the post-1945 consensus. It unleashed a conflict between traditionalists and progressives, conservatives and liberals, hawks and doves etc. The shared values which had characterised the reconstruction of the post-war global economic order began to fray, particularly following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
This was particularly apparent on the right of the US political spectrum, the lessons of which were absorbed by many in the UK. Remember the efforts by US Leader of the House Newt Gingrich to shut down Congress in 1995-96 purely for political reasons? Or the attempts to impeach President Clinton in 1998-99 as the political right became desperate to deliver a political knockout? This was followed by the rise of the Tea Party movement which subverted the Republican Party and propelled Donald Trump into the White House.
On this side of the Atlantic, the culture war has been fought less aggressively but it has been bubbling away nonetheless with some of the tricks from the US playbook having been adopted in the UK. The rise of the Tea Party is mirrored in the emergence of UKIP and the Brexit Party whilst the politically motivated Congressional shutdowns found expression in Boris Johnson’s attempt to prorogue parliament. The leitmotif of the UK culture war was Euroscepticism. Many Conservatives who never quite got over the deposition of Margaret Thatcher in 1990 rallied behind this cause, culminating in the Brexit referendum of 2016 and lighting the touchpaper of division which had been simmering for some time. For many on the right, Brexit represents the Trumpian equivalent of draining the swamp: It was the culture war writ large as Brexiteers made out that this was an opportunity for the politically disenfranchised to take back control. This was hogwash in 2016 and as the events of the past four years have shown, it still is.
Far from resolving anything, the divisions sown by Brexit have widened. The referendum was won by a narrow majority and the government has done nothing to assuage the concerns of those who voted Remain. And whilst it is true that in the December general election the party which promised to “get Brexit done” won the biggest parliamentary majority since 2001, much of the evidence suggests this was less due to the fact that people had a favourable image of the Conservatives than they had a negative view of the Labour Party under Jeremy Corbyn.
Boris Johnson’s problems are piling up
Whatever else we may think of Boris Johnson he is a brilliant political salesman – he is, in short, a populist. He is also a product of the culture war in which his set of political values is rooted in a vision of a glorious imperial past. But this is where he may run into difficulty. The tectonic plates of the culture war have shifted – maybe temporarily but perhaps sufficiently to cause more permanent damage. This finds expression in the current strength of the Black Lives Matter movement, which runs contrary to the Johnson view of the UK’s imperial past and threatens to heap more trouble on a government which is now feeling the pressure (for German speakers interested in a Swiss perspective, I liked this article in the NZZ).
His government’s handling of the Covid-19 crisis has been less than sure-footed and it has scored a number of own goals, most notably by failing to sanction Dominic Cummings, Johnson’s chief adviser, for breaking lockdown rules. It is also hard to imagine that the electorate will easily forgive the highest number of Covid deaths in Europe. We are only six months into what is scheduled to be a five year term for Johnson’s government. But the weaknesses inherent in his character mean that he has got off to a rocky start. As a populist, Johnson wants to keep as many people happy as he can but this is inconsistent with the credo of good governance which requires setting out a number of objectives and working out a plan how to achieve them.
These problems will be compounded by the fact the government will have to cope with the deepest recession in living memory. To turn things around from here requires discipline and hard work, neither of which the prime minister is noted for. I am reminded of the Conservative government of 1992-97 which was faced with an economic crisis early in its term (expulsion from the ERM) and which spent almost five years trying to get ahead of the agenda. It failed and was eventually swept aside by a Labour Party led by a moderate leader in the form of Tony Blair which condemned the Tories to 13 years in opposition.
This is not to say that we will necessarily see a rerun of the 1990s. But aside from getting Brexit done, it is not at all clear what Johnson’s government stands for. This makes it incredibly important that it gets Brexit right, by which we mean not compounding the economic damage. Failure to deliver on the signature policy at a time of mounting economic difficulties and the shifting sands of cultural change would end the career of most politicians. Boris Johnson is no ordinary politician but he has a lot of work to do to pull things around. Demonstrating leadership and running government to manage the country, rather than operating permanently in campaign mode, would be a good start.
Thursday, 11 June 2020
Who needs experts?
During the Brexit referendum campaign, Michael Gove, who at
the time went by the Orwellian job title of Secretary of State for Justice,
said in a TV interview with Sky News that “I
think the people in this country have had enough of experts.” When quizzed
on this, he went further and suggested that “these people are the same ones who got consistently wrong what was
happening.” It was a somewhat off the cuff remark but it instantly caught
the mood of the times. Recall the summer of 2016 was the time when British
politicians exaggerated the benefits of Brexit. It was also the first time that
the world became aware of just how little regard Donald Trump has for the truth
– those inconvenient pieces of evidence that suggest that one’s prejudices may
not always be right. But this attitude has had a hugely damaging effect on the
quality of policy debate, and nowhere is this more important than in the debate
over Covid-19.
As an economist who does not always get every forecast
right, this argument is sometimes thrown in my direction. After all, what use
are experts if they are not infallible? I have explained on numerous occasions
that economics is not a predictive discipline – economists cannot foretell the
future – but in the public mind that is what we do. When it comes to matters
scientific, the public holds the view that there is a single body of evidence
which represents the truth and anything that is not inside this envelope of
perceived wisdom must be false. But just as with economics, the public
perception of science is not wholly true. Scientific conclusions on issues such
as epidemiology depend on a host of input assumptions, which if changed can
result in very different outcomes.
There has been much debate in recent weeks about the size of
the R (or reproductive) number associated with Covid-19. As we are all now
aware, an R number in excess of one implies the rate of infection is rising. It
is extremely difficult to measure R in real time and estimates for the UK in
the range 0.7 to 0.9 imply a margin for error that puts it dangerously close to
one. It also varies by geography so if it is higher than one in some places,
this runs the risk of a second wave of Covid-19 cases. The R value is
calculated using data such as hospital admissions, intensive care unit
admissions and deaths. However if the cause of death is wrongly attributed,
this will impact on estimates of R. Since age is also a factor in deaths from
Covid-19, the overall R value may be biased upwards if we do not take
sufficient account of this.
Those responsible for making these calculations are
acknowledged experts in their field, and are aware that their estimates are
subject to a margin of uncertainty. The problem then becomes one of deciding
whether the estimates form a sufficiently strong basis for the decisions made
by policymakers, who ultimately have to carry the can. Or to put it another
way, is the science sufficiently robust to support some of the recent policy actions?
With the UK having suffered the second highest recorded
death rate from Covid-19, questions are increasingly being asked of the
policies adopted over recent months. Quite how an island has significantly more
deaths than other European countries which share land borders suggests that
there have been policy mistakes. The government has consistently stated that it
is “following the science,” therefore either the advice was flawed or the
policy implementation was.
The most obvious question is why the UK did not
impose some form of border controls – after all, they were employed by nearly
all other European countries? As it happens, the minutes of the Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies (SAGE) for 23 March suggested that “closing borders would have a negligible impact on spread.” Yet on
Monday the UK introduced a quarantine regime in which people entering from
overseas are now expected to self-isolate for 14 days. This appears to be
somewhat self-defeating since the rates of infection are now lower in other
European countries than the UK, and it would have made more sense to implement
these restrictions in March. Nor is it clear how the policy is enforceable
since there is no guarantee that the address people give on the form which they
are legally required to fill in is necessarily where they intend to stay.
The policy on schools closure has been similarly muddled.
The SAGE view on 16 March was that “school closures constitutes one
of the less effective single measure to reduce the epidemic peak.” Two days later,
“SAGE reviewed available evidence and
modelling on the potential impact of school closures. The evidence indicates
that school closures, combined with other measures, could help to bring the R0
number below 1.” On the basis that the government believed the epidemic to
be under control, it announced that primary school pupils would return to
school at the start of June. But many local authorities, and indeed parents,
questioned whether the policy was safe and many children simply did not show up
at school. With attendance rates last week running at just 7% the government
this week conceded that its plan was not workable and backtracked on its school
reopening policy.
Then there is the vexed question of the lockdown. On 18 March, SAGE concluded that there was a case for a lockdown in London but “measures such as restricting public transport … would have minimal
impact.” Five days later, there was
a stronger case for “reducing contact
with friends and family outside the household, and contact in shops and other
areas.” One of the attendees at this meeting was the epidemiologist
Professor Neil Ferguson, who yesterday told a committee of MPs that “had we introduced lockdown measures a week
earlier, we would have reduced the final death toll by at least a half.” Yet
the SAGE minutes do not suggest that
the scientific consensus was pushing for an earlier lockdown. Nor is there much
evidence during the early stages of the debate that they paid much attention to
the problem of shielding the older, more vulnerable members of society despite
the fact that some estimates suggest “more than half of England’s coronavirus-related deaths will be people from care homes.”
It is easy to be critical of a government which has presided
over the highest number of Covid-19 deaths in Europe, and its communication
strategy has been muddled and inconsistent (viz. the Dominic Cummings affair).
However, its claim to be following the science does appear to stand up to
scrutiny – at least to some degree – as a cursory glance of the SAGE minutes suggests.
The government has made errors and will ultimately be held accountable for them
(we hope). But the scientific advice has also flip-flopped. This is not to say
that the SAGE committee was wrong – it was acting on the best information
available at the time, and like all good scientists members changed their views
in the face of new evidence.
Whilst the experts may not get everything right, they do get
more right than they do wrong. Deductive failures do not mean that we can do without
experts – Michael Gove was wrong about that. But next time you hear the media calls suggesting that economists’ forecasts are always wrong remember that the so-called hard science disciplines do not always get it right
either
Wednesday, 3 June 2020
Trust me. I'm a politician!
The importance of trust
One of the qualities which a politician in a democratic society must possess in abundance is trust. Without it, it is almost impossible to repeatedly go back to the electorate in order to ask voters for their support. There does not appear to be much trust around at the present time however. Trust in the British government has recently fallen sharply as dissatisfaction with its handling of the Covid-19 crisis has mounted. But this is more than about Covid, as evidenced by the recent riots on the streets of the US.
Trust is the basis of our economic system. It is the foundation upon which contracts are drawn and on which trade takes place. To put it even more simply, in the absence of trust many value-generating transactions would simply not take place. The basis of trust in western democracies is rooted in governments: They draw up the legal framework upon which our economies operate and it is therefore important that we continue to have confidence in them. The basis of that trust began to fray in the wake of the 2008 financial crash when governments assured their electorate that a return to normality would occur sooner rather than later. When that did not occur, populist voices began to make themselves heard in countries as disparate as Greece, Italy, the Philippines, UK and the United States. Voters stopped believing that the system was helping them and the perception became entrenched that it was biased in favour of others, be it the rich, foreigners or those from a different ethnic background. As a result, the US elected Donald Trump as President and the UK voted in favour of Brexit as these were solutions which it was promised would look after the interests of voters.
... And how to lose it
But the roots of populism do not run deep. Neither the Johnson government nor the Trump Administration have a coherent plan of what they want to do, other than deliver on the populist platforms on which they were elected. Trump’s America First strategy has resulted in conflict with China and undermined the institutional framework which has supported the global economy for the past 70 years. In the UK, the Johnson government continues to believe it has a duty to deliver a full departure from the EU by the end of this year, irrespective of the fact that the landscape has changed since the December election, and irrespective of the economic costs that the current policy orientation is likely to inflict.
Indeed, based on his past performance Boris Johnson is the least trustworthy occupant of the Prime Minister’s office in modern history (it is one of history’s great ironies that the British electorate trusted Jeremy Corbyn, his opponent in the 2019 general election, even less). Johnson was a brilliant cheerleader for Brexit but never once has he stopped to consider its economic consequences. The Covid-19 crisis has called his judgement further into question. Although Johnson gained considerable personal sympathy following his brush with the coronavirus, and for a time his polling ratings surged, the fact that Britain has the highest death rate in Europe has raised a lot of questions about the government’s handling of the crisis.
We should reserve judgement until such times as a deeper investigation of the crisis is conducted but we can draw conclusions from the government’s handling of the Dominic Cummings affair. The overwhelming consensus of opinion is that Cummings, who is Johnson’s most trusted adviser, broke the lockdown rules. One of the more unedifying aspects of the whole affair was the way in which the Attorney General risked the independence of her office by aligning with the government. As Murray Hunt from the Bingham Centre for the Rule of Law put it the most important aspect of this issue “is what the episode reveals in general about the mutual dependency of the rule of law and public trust.”
Impossible to trust the UK government on Brexit
Anybody who was already concerned about the government’s position on Brexit will not be assuaged by recent events. I have never been convinced that Brexit is about improving the wellbeing of the British people – there is, after all, no evidence to support this position. Efforts by the Johnson government to go so far as proroguing parliament to drive it through should wake people up to the lengths it is prepared to go to make this ideological project a reality. If the electorate increasingly distrusts its own government, it should come as no surprise that EU negotiators are not prepared to take the Johnson government at its word. The recent spat between the UK’s Sherpa David Frost and Michel Barnier makes clear that the two sides remain far apart as we move closer to the point at which the UK will have to make a decision on whether to extend the transition period.
There is some substance to the UK’s criticism that the EU is treating the UK differently to other parties seeking to do a trade deal, but it is disingenuous to claim that the proposals represent anything other than those outlined in the Political Declaration signed last October (as Barnier hinted without saying so explicitly). We thus find ourselves returning to the vexed issue of trust. There is an increasing sense in Brussels (and indeed elsewhere) that the UK has no intention of reaching a trade agreement with the EU by the end of this year, despite the fact that the Political Declaration suggests “the Parties envisage having an ambitious trading relationship on goods on the basis of a Free Trade Agreement, with a view to facilitating the ease of legitimate trade.” Nor is it prepared to seek an extension of the Transition Period, which implies that the UK will fall back to trading on WTO rules at the start of 2021.
As the tide of globalisation ebbs, there can have been no worse time in the post-1945 period to embark on a trade policy based on WTO rules. Many economists (including me) have made the point that failure to reach a trade agreement will impose significant economic costs on the UK. But what has changed in the interim is that the global economy now faces its deepest recession of modern times. A rational government would immediately have declared force majeure and asked for an extension. But the Johnson government has long since adopted an economically irrational approach to Brexit and I cannot determine whether its stance represents a crazy bargaining ploy in a bid to force more concessions from the EU or whether it means what it says about a no-deal Brexit.
You do not have to be as cynical as this jaded economist to believe that the government is prepared to hide the costs of a no-deal Brexit behind the smokescreen of a Covid-induced recession. After all, they say you should never let a good crisis go to waste. But the actions of this government over recent months with regard to fudging the rules (the Cummings case) and blurring the evidence (the selective use of data in reporting the UK Covid-19 outbreak) are consistent with the Albert Einstein view that “whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.”
One of the qualities which a politician in a democratic society must possess in abundance is trust. Without it, it is almost impossible to repeatedly go back to the electorate in order to ask voters for their support. There does not appear to be much trust around at the present time however. Trust in the British government has recently fallen sharply as dissatisfaction with its handling of the Covid-19 crisis has mounted. But this is more than about Covid, as evidenced by the recent riots on the streets of the US.
Trust is the basis of our economic system. It is the foundation upon which contracts are drawn and on which trade takes place. To put it even more simply, in the absence of trust many value-generating transactions would simply not take place. The basis of trust in western democracies is rooted in governments: They draw up the legal framework upon which our economies operate and it is therefore important that we continue to have confidence in them. The basis of that trust began to fray in the wake of the 2008 financial crash when governments assured their electorate that a return to normality would occur sooner rather than later. When that did not occur, populist voices began to make themselves heard in countries as disparate as Greece, Italy, the Philippines, UK and the United States. Voters stopped believing that the system was helping them and the perception became entrenched that it was biased in favour of others, be it the rich, foreigners or those from a different ethnic background. As a result, the US elected Donald Trump as President and the UK voted in favour of Brexit as these were solutions which it was promised would look after the interests of voters.
... And how to lose it
But the roots of populism do not run deep. Neither the Johnson government nor the Trump Administration have a coherent plan of what they want to do, other than deliver on the populist platforms on which they were elected. Trump’s America First strategy has resulted in conflict with China and undermined the institutional framework which has supported the global economy for the past 70 years. In the UK, the Johnson government continues to believe it has a duty to deliver a full departure from the EU by the end of this year, irrespective of the fact that the landscape has changed since the December election, and irrespective of the economic costs that the current policy orientation is likely to inflict.
Indeed, based on his past performance Boris Johnson is the least trustworthy occupant of the Prime Minister’s office in modern history (it is one of history’s great ironies that the British electorate trusted Jeremy Corbyn, his opponent in the 2019 general election, even less). Johnson was a brilliant cheerleader for Brexit but never once has he stopped to consider its economic consequences. The Covid-19 crisis has called his judgement further into question. Although Johnson gained considerable personal sympathy following his brush with the coronavirus, and for a time his polling ratings surged, the fact that Britain has the highest death rate in Europe has raised a lot of questions about the government’s handling of the crisis.
We should reserve judgement until such times as a deeper investigation of the crisis is conducted but we can draw conclusions from the government’s handling of the Dominic Cummings affair. The overwhelming consensus of opinion is that Cummings, who is Johnson’s most trusted adviser, broke the lockdown rules. One of the more unedifying aspects of the whole affair was the way in which the Attorney General risked the independence of her office by aligning with the government. As Murray Hunt from the Bingham Centre for the Rule of Law put it the most important aspect of this issue “is what the episode reveals in general about the mutual dependency of the rule of law and public trust.”
Impossible to trust the UK government on Brexit
Anybody who was already concerned about the government’s position on Brexit will not be assuaged by recent events. I have never been convinced that Brexit is about improving the wellbeing of the British people – there is, after all, no evidence to support this position. Efforts by the Johnson government to go so far as proroguing parliament to drive it through should wake people up to the lengths it is prepared to go to make this ideological project a reality. If the electorate increasingly distrusts its own government, it should come as no surprise that EU negotiators are not prepared to take the Johnson government at its word. The recent spat between the UK’s Sherpa David Frost and Michel Barnier makes clear that the two sides remain far apart as we move closer to the point at which the UK will have to make a decision on whether to extend the transition period.
There is some substance to the UK’s criticism that the EU is treating the UK differently to other parties seeking to do a trade deal, but it is disingenuous to claim that the proposals represent anything other than those outlined in the Political Declaration signed last October (as Barnier hinted without saying so explicitly). We thus find ourselves returning to the vexed issue of trust. There is an increasing sense in Brussels (and indeed elsewhere) that the UK has no intention of reaching a trade agreement with the EU by the end of this year, despite the fact that the Political Declaration suggests “the Parties envisage having an ambitious trading relationship on goods on the basis of a Free Trade Agreement, with a view to facilitating the ease of legitimate trade.” Nor is it prepared to seek an extension of the Transition Period, which implies that the UK will fall back to trading on WTO rules at the start of 2021.
As the tide of globalisation ebbs, there can have been no worse time in the post-1945 period to embark on a trade policy based on WTO rules. Many economists (including me) have made the point that failure to reach a trade agreement will impose significant economic costs on the UK. But what has changed in the interim is that the global economy now faces its deepest recession of modern times. A rational government would immediately have declared force majeure and asked for an extension. But the Johnson government has long since adopted an economically irrational approach to Brexit and I cannot determine whether its stance represents a crazy bargaining ploy in a bid to force more concessions from the EU or whether it means what it says about a no-deal Brexit.
You do not have to be as cynical as this jaded economist to believe that the government is prepared to hide the costs of a no-deal Brexit behind the smokescreen of a Covid-induced recession. After all, they say you should never let a good crisis go to waste. But the actions of this government over recent months with regard to fudging the rules (the Cummings case) and blurring the evidence (the selective use of data in reporting the UK Covid-19 outbreak) are consistent with the Albert Einstein view that “whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.”
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