One of the mounting concerns over the last four years has
been the extent to which policy is being conducted on the basis of belief
rather than evidence – particularly in the Anglo-Saxon world. The danger was
always that at some point those who ignored the evidence would start to come
unstuck. We appear to be reaching this point. The question is whether voters
are beginning to see through the bluster.
This was exemplified by two items that surfaced on Twitter
yesterday from people who are not known for their adherence to evidence-based
analysis. The first example was provided by the current occupant of the White
House whose TV interview on Covid cases in the US was a car crash of epic
proportions.
Amongst other things, Trump failed to appreciate the importance of normalising
the number of cases and deaths to account for differences in the size of population
and appeared not to understand the argument that the journalist from Axios was
putting to him. As much as anything, it showed up Trump’s inability (or maybe
unwillingness) to engage in intellectual debate. It was far worse than anything
I remember four years ago during the presidential campaign. Having recently
watched the outstanding film Hillary by Nanette Burstein, I could not help wondering why the US public hated Mrs
Clinton so much that they chose a reality TV star in preference to her as president
(if you are interested in recent US politics, the film is a must-see).
The second item was as bad, if not worse in its own way. This series of Tweets by former leader of the Tory party and Brexit hardliner MP Iain Duncan Smith,
explaining why the EU Withdrawal Agreement was such a bad deal for the UK, was incredible.
IDS argues that the EU wants “our money
and they want to stop us being a competitor.” As if that were not enough, the following statement was both wrong and a masterclass in irony: “To avoid their own budget black hole, the EU gets £39billion as a
“divorce payment” from us, reflecting our share of the current EU budget. But
it gets worse. Buried in the fine print, unnoticed by many, is the fact we
remain hooked into the EU’s loan book.”
It is wrong because it fails to differentiate between the
liabilities incurred by the UK which it must meet on its departure and some
kind of exit payment. The UK is not somehow filling in holes in the EU budget. It
agreed to undertake certain projects whilst it was a member of the EU and agreed
that it must pay its share of the liabilities incurred. But the supreme irony
is in the phrase “Buried in the fine
print, unnoticed by many.” It is
the job of MPs to scrutinise legislation. The text of the Agreement was
published in October 2019. It then went through the UK parliament, where bills are
debated three times by the House of Commons before being passed into law precisely
to avoid any hidden items from sneaking through. So what precisely had he and
his colleagues been doing prior to January 2020 when they voted by 330 to 231 to
pass the Withdrawal Bill?
The sheer absurdity of the ultra-Brexiteer position is
difficult to understate. They clearly seek absolute autonomy over every aspect
of the UK’s legal and economic framework without ever once acknowledging that
no country in the world – not even the superpowers – have that kind of control.
This handy little guide gives an overview of all the areas where the Centre for Brexit Policy think
tank believes the UK should simply rip up any agreements with the EU in order
to obtain absolute sovereignty. The people who believe this stuff are simply
zealots who have no regard for how the international economy works. I have been
calling them out for the past seven years but like cockroaches their arguments
just won’t die, irrespective of how much logic you apply to them.
They share with Trump a desire to break down the status quo
without giving any real thought to what might come in its place. Their various
projects run on finding grievances in order to stay relevant by tapping into
the perennially dissatisfied. In a way, the worst thing that could happen to
them is that we give in to their fantasies because then they would become
irrelevant, having nothing to protest against. But that way madness lies, so we
won’t go there.

All this begs the question whether voters think differently
now compared to four years ago? In the US, Trump has had worse net approval
ratings over the last three years than he is polling today but you have to go
all the way back to summer 2017 to find them (chart). It is not a good look
just three months before a presidential election. Nor do the polls find much support for Brexit (at least not in the form proposed by the British government over recent
months). According to the European Social Survey, just 35% of Brits supported
Brexit, with 57% wanting to rejoin the European Union. It is just one survey
and we have learned not to trust the polls but this is consistent with the
message coming from a number of polling sources in recent years. There is no
appetite for the hard Brexit which the UK government says it is prepared to
deliver.
The collective cries of rage on both sides of the Atlantic
were hailed in many quarters as the full throated roar of a population willing
to take back control and make their respective countries great again. But after
giving the electorate just four months to consider the immensely complex topic
of Brexit, which was decided by the narrowest of majorities, politicians have
had four years to implement it and now its leading protagonists do not appear
to like what they voted for. In the US, such was Donald Trump’s popularity that
he actually polled far fewer votes than Hillary Clinton. Indeed the vote
deficit was the largest in history of anyone going on to be declared president
(almost 2.9 million). There was no huge majority in favour of the populist
policies on offer. And now that they are proving difficult – if not impossible
– to live up to, maybe the sound you hear is that of the tide turning.
Every now and then I like to go off-piste and look at issues
in the world of football, partly because it interests me but also because it is
an area ripe for economic analysis (bear with me on this, there is some
economics in here). A couple of years ago, I looked at the financial position of Newcastle United, the club I support. I reluctantly concluded
that although the financial model adopted by the owner Mike Ashley was
condemning the club to mediocrity, this was consistent with a strategy in which
the owner had no incentive to spend huge sums of money for no guaranteed reward.
However, this was inconsistent with the demands of fans who want to see the
club spend money in order to challenge for trophies, rather than simply making
up the numbers. Perhaps the relationship between owner and fans can be seen as
a principal-agent problem in which the owners’ actions on behalf of the club impact directly on the fans.
The news earlier this year that a Saudi Arabian consortium
was interested in buying the club was welcomed by fans who hoped that
it would allow Newcastle to challenge for trophies on the domestic, and perhaps
even European, stage. The group included Saudi Arabia's sovereign wealth fund
PIF thus making a direct link to the Saudi government whose record on human
rights is, to say the least, questionable. This posed an ethical dilemma for
me. Obviously I want my club to be successful which would have been enabled by
the funds PIF has at its disposal. Against that I am uncomfortable with the
links to a government deemed by Amnesty International as repressive. As it
happens, the dilemma was resolved yesterday when the consortium withdrew its
bid for the club.
It appears that the Premier League (PL) had dragged its feet
in applying the “fit and proper person” test to the prospective owners and 17
weeks after the bid was submitted, the consortium simply lost patience. Quite
rightly the PL wanted to determine the precise links between the consortium and
the Saudi government. It needed assurances about who would have control (who is
the beneficial owner), where funding would come from and who would appoint the
board. In the absence of clarification, the PL’s rules prevented it from
sanctioning the deal. On the surface, you might think that this was a case of
good governance in action. But the PL – and indeed the English Football League,
which governs lower leagues in England – has a murky record. Consider these
examples:
- In 2003 the PL welcomed Roman Abramovich's takeover
of Chelsea FC with open arms. Not once did they publicly ask how he obtained
his money. Nor did they raise the issue of money laundering, despite the fact
that any business funded by funds of dubious provenance is a classic money
laundering risk.
- In 2005 the PL was quite happy to allow the
Glazers to purchase Man Utd, despite the fact they loaded the club with huge
debts in the process. Those debts are currently valued at £0.5bn – almost 0.8%
of the annual gross value added generated in Manchester.
- The PL welcomed Thaksin Shinawatra as the buyer
of Man City in 2007. Thaksin, being a former PM of Thailand who was deposed in
a coup, is the sort of politically exposed person whom people in finance are
warned to treat carefully in any financial dealings. Thaksin then sold the club
to the Abu Dhabi Investment Group, owned by a member of their royal family. The
club was recently charged with breaching UEFA's financial fair play regulations
(and dubiously acquitted), yet we did not hear anything from the PL on the issue.
- If it is Saudi involvement the PL is concerned
about, there seem to be no worries that Sheffield United are owned by a Saudi
prince who recently won a court ruling that he could purchase a 50% stake in a club reputedly worth £100m for just £5m.
- Lower down the leagues, the football authorities
claim to have a 'fit and proper' person test. Yet Wigan Athletic was last month
declared bankrupt just four weeks after it was sold to a Hong Kong based
consortium.
- The travails of recently-promoted Leeds Utd can
partly be laid at the PL's door. They raised no eyebrows when in the
early-2000s the owner borrowed against future revenues to load up the club with
debt, predicated on the basis it would regularly qualify for the Champions
League. It didn’t and predictably Leeds went bankrupt. It then went through a
series of owners which culminated in the farce whereby Massimo Cellino took control in 2014 only after winning a challenge to the Football League's
attempt to block him. Cellino was later banned for financial irregularities
before being allowed to return to his post. You almost couldn’t make it up.
I could go on. Fans of football clubs with long pedigrees
such as Blackpool and Portsmouth can tell similar tales of woe in which
unscrupulous owners managed to take over clubs before subsequently ruining
them. On the basis of their past record of "anything goes" there are
calls for the PL to be more open about why they put obstacles in the way of the
Saudi takeover, without ever explicitly saying they failed the ownership test.
Has it discovered a moral conscience, in which case I fully expect that this won't
be the last occasion that club takeovers are blocked? Or is it because the
Saudis have blocked the PL from taking legal action against the broadcaster
beoutQ for illegally streaming matches whilst simultaneously blocking the PL’s
licensed broadcaster in the Middle East?
In effect, football is being run along casino capitalism
lines: The very behaviour which voters condemned banks for undertaking prior to
the Lehman’s bust is alive and well in football. It has been well established
in finance that self-regulation does not work – there is always an incentive
for someone to game the system to their advantage. The same is true in football
club ownership. To the extent the owner is running a business, there needs to
be a systematic set of rules which proscribe what owners can do and penalties
which are consistently applied in the event they are broken. Football’s
regulators could do worse than learn from the financial regulators, which have
been open and transparent about what institutions can and cannot do, and which
crack down hard on miscreants. There should also be a separation of the
financial incentives of the PL and those of the top clubs. Regulators are there
to regulate, not to get rich on the back of those they are meant to oversee.
My favourite quote from the book by Simon Kuper and Stefan
Szymanski Why England Lose … (aka Soccernomics) is “just as oil is part of the oil business, stupidity is part of the football business.”
But it should not be this way. If football people want to be treated as the
professionals they say they are, the sport needs to be regulated properly. Not
run in the capricious manner which benefits the rich owner at the expense of the less well-off fan.
A lot of newsprint has been devoted to the prospect of a
huge rise in public debt in the wake of the Covid-19 recession with the most
frequent question being “who is going to pay?” My answer is always the same: we
are. This is debt incurred in the name of taxpayers, and it is their tax
contributions which will ultimately be required to pay it down. But – and this
is the crucial point – it will not happen anytime soon. Indeed, economies tend
to pay down debt a lot more slowly than it is accumulated because, as I noted in a recent post, governments have an infinitely long life span which allows
them to charge future generations for debt accumulated in the past.
A case in point is the debt accumulated by the UK in the
wake of World War II. It was only in 2006 that Britain repaid the last portion
of the debt it owed to the US and Canada. The US loaned USD4.33bn to Britain in
1945, while Canada loaned USD1.19 bn in 1946. Ultimately the UK paid back
USD7.5bn to the US and USD2 bn to Canada, implying an annual average rate on
the combined debt of almost 1%. In effect, my generation was paying off debt
incurred following a conflict that took place long before I was even born.
Moreover, even with such a low effective interest rate, the UK still repaid an
amount which was almost double the original principal. This should act as a
cautionary tale for those who believe that economies can afford not to worry
about how much they borrow at a time of ultra-low interest rates.
It is fascinating to look back over more than 200 years of
public debt data in the IMF’s Historical Public Debt database to see how countries’ debt profiles have changed. Indeed many countries have
registered debt-to-GDP ratios above 200% at some point with the UK the
stand-out example, posting a ratio close to 270% in 1946. But even the now fiscally rigorous Dutch
recorded a debt ratio of almost 250% in the 1830s and got close to these levels
again in the late-1940s. France, which ended World War I with a debt
ratio close to 240% was able to reduce it to 15% by the mid-1960s. These
examples demonstrate that it is possible to eliminate high debt burdens without
triggering domestic inflation, as Germany did in the 1920s, or default as many
Latin American countries have tried over the past 40 years. As chart 1 illustrates, across a sample of industrialised countries debt levels are quite some way below their historical peaks, suggesting there may a bit of fiscal space to take on more debt. At the very least, it is likely that they can live with high debt levels for some time without having to take the axe to the public sector.

The key to long-term debt reduction – as I have noted on numerous previous occasions –
is the fiscal solvency condition which suggests that so long as nominal (real)
GDP growth exceeds the nominal (real) interest rate on debt, the debt ratio can
be reduced whilst still running a primary deficit. As Nick Crafts points out in
this nice blog post the UK was able to reduce the debt ratio from over 250% of GDP in 1948 to just
over 60% within 25 years despite running a primary deficit averaging 2.3% of
GDP which resulted from the expansion of the welfare state. As Crafts points out, “low interest rates, low unemployment, rapid
economic growth and tolerance for higher taxation all played a role” in
driving down the debt ratio. The idea that society was tolerant of higher taxes
is an interesting one and with many suggestions as to how the government can
find new ways to raise taxes, it is a theme I plan to return to in the near
future.
The notion of higher tax tolerance runs contrary to the
economic model of the last 40 years in which governments have sold the idea of
a low tax economy as the best way to allow the private sector to make resource
allocation decisions. It has also allowed the state to take a back seat in some
key areas of public service provision (e.g. rail and electricity networks). But
what the proponents of low tax fail to point out is that this model may not
be the best at delivering optimal social outcomes. There is, for example, a clear
negative correlation between tax receipts as a share of GDP and rates of child
poverty (chart 2).

As governments begin to grapple with high debt levels, it is
evident that they will have to think more creatively about revenue raising measures
that do not necessarily rely on taxing the same old areas as before. When large
numbers of people were in employment and governments were keen to promote investment,
it made sense to tax incomes and allow tax breaks for capital. It is less clear
that this holds today. And as I have noted previously, societies will have to
determine what their priorities are. Scandinavian-style welfare provision is incompatible
with US-style taxes. If the Covid crisis has taught us anything, it is that it
may be time for an economic reset. Whether we are ready to confront the fiscal
implications is another matter entirely.
A year ago I posed the question “if Johnson is the answer, what is the question?” Twelve months on, the question still stands.
It has been a remarkably turbulent year, what with last year’s constitutional shenanigans;
a general election; Brexit and the outbreak of Covid-19. On the basis of this BBC Fact Check Johnson's record is at best checkered. He failed in his primary objective to leave the EU on 31 October ("no ifs or buts"); his position on the Irish border has been less than honest and his much-vaunted social care plan has yet to see the light of day. Being generous,
Johnson’s programme has been derailed by the worst recession in 300 years. But
as I noted around the time of last year’s election it is still not clear what
Johnson believes in, apart from delivering Brexit – and even then, he has
cynically used this cause celebre as a platform for his ambition rather than
being a hardline supporter of the policy.
There have over recent months been many claims in certain
areas of the media that the Johnson government is engaged in shifting the
political centre of gravity to the right and it is prepared to ride roughshod over
the niceties of the British constitution in pursuit of its aims. Reasonable
people can agree to disagree on this point but it certainly looks as though his
government has taken the old Facebook maxim to heart: “Move fast and break
things.” Johnson’s actions over the last 12 months are more
authoritarian than anything we have experienced in British politics in living
memory. Take for example, the attempt to suspend parliament last year in a bid to deliver Brexit – subsequently overturned by the courts – and the suspension of 21 MPs from the Conservative Party for defying the government. Whatever you might think of the action, and regular
readers will know I was not a fan, it was at least designed to break the
parliamentary deadlock over Brexit which had paralysed the government over the
preceding three years.
But the recent decision to withdraw the whip from Julian
Lewis for having the temerity to run against, and beat, the government’s preferred candidate to chair the Intelligence and Security Committee (ISC) was worrying on a number of levels and it highlights many of the
weaknesses at the heart of the Johnson government. First, it appears from the
outside that the government was prepared to appoint a lackey to oversee the
release of the highly sensitive report into Russian influence on British public life. Filling parliamentary committees with “yes” men (and women) erodes the
ability of parliament to hold the government to account on matters of national
importance. Second, the government’s preferred candidate, Chris Grayling, does
not have a strong track record of delivering. As The Economist noted last week,
there is a dearth of talent in government because MPs are subject to “a Brexit
purity test” which acts as a barrier to many competent people. Third, the fact
that the government managed to lose a rigged election to the ISC calls into
question its general competence to deliver on some of the bigger issues it will
have to face (notably Brexit). Finally, the fact that the ISC report found
that the government had not even bothered to investigate allegations of Russian
involvement – whether true or not – points to remarkable complacency on matters
of national importance.
In a week when the UK and EU warned that little progress has been made towards signing a trade deal by year-end and there is no prospect of a trade deal with the US,
the risks to the UK economy are mounting. As it happens, I still believe that
the UK and EU will sign some form of trade agreement before 31 December for to
do otherwise would be a major policy failure that the government cannot afford.
But in terms of international economic relations, the government appears to
have a dwindling circle of friends following its decision to cut Huawei out of the 5G network and this week’s spat with Russia. When the government claimed that Brexit would
allow the UK to forge its own path, nobody imagined it would be quite this
alone on the world stage.
During his tenure as London Mayor Johnson was noted for
being a hands-off leader, preferring to delegate the hard thinking to a group
of trusted advisers. At the heart of Johnson’s administration is his chief adviser
Dominic Cummings who is a man in a hurry to get things done. Cummings appears indispensable
to the Johnson project – after all, his clear breach of the Covid-19 lockdown guidelines
would in most circumstances have seen him removed from office. For anyone
interested in understanding Cummings, his views and modus operandi, I heartily
recommend this BBC documentary (Youtube link here).
I am uncomfortable with the media attention Cummings generates, and the picture
that is painted of a guy who controls the heart of government (a view I hope is
untrue). My impression is that Cummings is an iconoclast who wants to make
radical changes to the way in which Britain is governed. Whilst he is clearly persuasive
and articulate, I do not get the sense that he has thought through the longer-term
implications of his ideas. In short, he is a campaigner rather than a man who
follows through.
I can see why this appeals to Johnson, who is a fantastic campaigner
in his own right and always looking for the next idea to sell. But this is not
how the hard work of governance is conducted. If politics is the art of the possible,
a sensible strategy is to adopt a small number of ambitious but achievable
goals rather than trying to do too many things at once. Arguably it is this
rush to do too much that has forced the government to crack down on those who
get in the way of it achieving its goals. However it creates the impression of
unstable government in which a small, unchanging, group of people are driving the
agenda.
Johnson won a handsome majority at the December election on
the promise of getting Brexit done and creating opportunities for those voters outside
the London bubble who perceive they have been left behind. The UK may have left
the EU but Brexit is far from done, and the government has its work cut out to deliver
on its promises now that Covid-19 has turned the economic landscape upside
down. Johnson has had a difficult year, and not all the problems are of his own
making. But too many are, and if he fancies another term as Prime Minister, he
will have to change his approach to government.