And You're Working for No-one but Us

 “And you’re working for no-one but me” is George Harrison’s sign off to the first song on one of the greatest British albums of all time, the Beatles’ Revolver. But compared to what follows it has always struck me as rather a damp squib – lyrically one extended whinge about how Surrey mansion dwellers pay too much in tax. I suppose to be fair to the author, Harrison was very anti-war and he objected to unwillingly paying millions in tax – at the time the top rate stood at 92.6% – so governments could bomb people.

Nonetheless it is quite sad that of all the sentiments the Beatles expressed, “in the end” it was those of Taxman that had the greatest longevity. You need a lot than love, and giving war a chance now seems to be the spirit of the age (alright that was Lennon). But thanks to Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, and the sprouting up of numerous tax havens around the world successful pop stars need no longer fret about governments getting their paws on their money.

But from the perspective of nearly sixty years, to sing “you’re working for no-one but me” with reference to His Majesty’s tax collectors seems faintly ridiculous. We’re definitely working for someone but there are people much further up the queue than HMRC. Perhaps their silhouettes need more light shone on them:

Landlords and Banks

The first thing we all need is somewhere to live. After rising above inflation for years, rents increased by 9% in 2024, the highest surge on record. The average rent now consumes over a third of renters’ income and more than half of it in London.

Though there are only 11 and half million renters in the UK, their numbers are inexorably rising. But they are still below the so-called “owner occupiers”. Except in many cases, while they occupy, they don’t own anything. The ‘owners’ are paying off a debt (which everyone calls a mortgage to avoid calling it a debt) to the actual owner of their property, usually a bank. And since interest rates have ballooned in the last few years – in the context of house prices inflating by 1,000% since the early 1980s – that debt has become much more expensive.

Banks, by the way, are sharing the pain by making record profits – HSBC amassed £24 billion in 2023, an 80% increase. This windfall results from the interest they receive on mortgage payments and loans being so much higher than the interest they pay on their savings accounts. Why this discrepancy should exist is a bit of a mystery. Theoretically, the two should cancel each other out and banks should not be laughing all the way to the bank because interest rates have been hiked. Maybe Sir Kier – who gave HSBC’s chief executive a knighthood in December – can enlighten us.

It’s good to know the people your monthly labours are paying off are having a hard time too.

Utility companies

Next on the identity parade are water and energy companies. In the past, these two public services were nationalized. But in our post-Thatcherite wasteland, sorry landscape, they are the play things of private equity firms who load the owners with debt and expect their captive customers – us in other words – to pay for the privilege of being compelled to use them. I just love the free market.

And when, as with Bulb Energy, these wealth destroyers experience liquidity problems, they can rely on the taxpayer, in the form of the government, to bail them out. Not that we have any say in the matter.

When the direct debits kick in every month, a lot of the damage to your balance is down to these two suspects. Energy bills are about 50% higher than they were pre-Covid. As with rent and mortgage payments, only in a semantic sense is this not taxation. Unless you want to live in a cave somewhere, or on the streets, you need a home and you need heating and water. Contrary to American monetarist proselytiser, Milton Friedman, we are not “free to choose”.

And it’s going to get worse. The average water bill will increase by 36% over the few years.

“If you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat,” Harrison sang in 1966. He meant, “I’ll raise the energy price cap”.

Corporations and things like eating

In common with all living beings, human beings need to consume if they want to continue living. But the cost of consumption keeps going up. If consumer inflation has fallen from its highs of a couple of years ago, that doesn’t mean prices will return to their former levels, just that they will continue to rise at a slower rate (although inflation seems going up again now anyway).

But the ever-increasing cost of essential goods is not solely due to ‘impersonal’ factors like the cost of raw materials. It is also down to the power of the huge corporations that dominate the market to increase costs above the ‘natural’ rate of inflation. For example, in the UK, “price mark ups” – price increases above the production costs to produce profit – rose from 58% in 2002 to 82% in 2020. The profits of the 350 largest companies on the London Stock Exchange have swollen by 73% since 2019.

This price gouging is symbolised by internet providers typically hiking raising annual broadband fees – now essential for doing most things in life, including work – by CPI (inflation) plus 3.9%. Why? Because they can.

What is now hitting home is that, contrary to the advertising, the Thatcherite revolution did not enthrone the consumer as king. Everyone knew that workers would have to suck it up, but the customer was felicitated. But that’s not how things have turned out. All regulators have a duty to protect the consumer but, as evidenced by the failure to compel banks to pay interest on savings in line with hikes in interest rates, this is just honoured in the breach. And with Reeves’s drive for deregulation, such a responsibility is going to become even more threadbare.

 You have to crane your neck to see the real beneficiaries.

Only in the perverse universe we now inhabit, could a privately educated ex-stockbroker who claims to be “keeping the flame of Thatcherism alive” and controls a company masquerading as a political party be the one to take advantage of this situation.

It’s enough to make you gently weep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inflation – what a Hout!

As I write, Britain is bombing a former colony – one of the poorest countries on earth, the scene recently of the “world’s worst humanitarian crisis” according to the UN, which was caused by a war inflicted by the medieval limb-severing Saudi Arabian regime with British weapons. But trying to stop the genocide in Palestine is crime enough to resume the sorties. And they want ordinary people to actively help out with this never-ending war for civilisation!

But pause for a minute and consider the reason for ‘Operation Prosperity Guardian’. The fear is that any continued obstruction to shipping routes in the Red Sea, which accounts for 15% of global sea trade, will reignite inflation, the bogeyman western governments and central banks have been trying to slay for the past two years or more.

I don’t want to minimise the problem of consumer inflation, to give it its proper name, which given that it causes massive rises in the cost of essentials like food involves real misery. This is exacerbated in an era when collective bargaining has been reduced to a rump of the economy so that wages can’t keep up with the price rises.

However, consumer inflation is not the only kind of inflation. Over many years, western countries have also been subject to asset price inflation – basically huge rises in the prices of shares and houses. In Britain, house prices have risen by about 1,000% since the early 1980s. And despite some ups and downs, the stock market across the western world keeps hitting record highs. In America it has enjoyed some of its best returns since the 1880s.

It is a basic axiom of our Thatcherite political mind-set that, in total contrast to consumer inflation, asset-price inflation is not something to dread. Quite the opposite, it is positively benign.

But, as we are now seeing, this is a travesty of the truth.

The inflation we like

So, unlike consumer inflation, the authorities have not tried to fight asset-price inflation. They have, by contrast, endeavoured to boost it at every turn and, if it seems to be flagging, to rekindle it with blatant forms of state intervention (despite the propaganda we don’t live in a ‘free’ market economy).

House prices in Britain have been deliberately stoked by restricting supply. It is a basic law of economics that if the supply of any good is suppressed, its price will increase.  This happened first through Thatcher’s ‘Right to Buy’ policy and was then reinforced by simply banning local councils from building new council houses. More recently, more direct forms of buttressing house prices have been necessary, for example the government’s ‘Help to Buy’ policy which is a simple subsidy to housebuilders.

The rise in share prices was first underpinned by legalising the process of share buy backs, banned in the aftermath of the Wall Street Crash of 1929. This has led to an internally-generated rise in share prices, caused by companies being pressured by their shareholders to ‘retire’ some of their shares, thus increasing the share price and the dividend payments to existing stock-holders. This practice has now become routine in the corporate world – according to economist Michael Hudson, publicly-listed American companies have, since 1985, retired more stock than they have issued.

Since the 2008 financial crisis, share prices have also been massively boosted by the artificial method of (electronic) money printing known as Quantitative Easing (QE). QE works by creating a huge mass of money, and by reducing the yield on government bonds, ‘incentivising’ investors to place it in the stock market or with other assets such as housing, or financing corporate mergers. According to investment manager, Kate Rogers, at venerable asset manager Cazenove, “Quantitative easing certainly stimulated asset markets. The billions that went from the banks to investors to buy the bonds was soon recycled into more attractively valued equities and property-boosting prices.”

This flagrant state intervention, practiced simultaneously in Britain, America, and Europe, is what lies behind the thriving stock market performance of the last decade or more (15% returns compared to an average of 9%). It is nothing to do with a healthy economy pushing up share prices. GDP growth, as we know, has been consistently poor for many years.

Of course, central banks are now pursuing the opposite policy to Quantitative Easing. ‘Quantitative Tightening’ involves selling assets to reduce liquidity in the financial system. This hasn’t (as yet but more on that later) produced a collapse in share prices. The conventional interpretation is that large companies are finally able to stand on their own two feet. But possibly QE under Covid was so huge – the creation of $834 million per hour – that the subsidy is still having an effect.

This is how it feels

The only way in which this asset-price inflation is commonly seen to have a downside is in terms of housing. The enormous rise in house prices – from an average of £26,000 in 1983 to £280,000 today – is regarded as a boon for the majority of people who already ‘own’ houses (or have mortgages on them). They can sit back and see their asset rise in value without having to do anything. But for young people who want to buy their first house – to ‘get on the housing ladder’ in common parlance – it’s a disaster. They frequently can’t even afford the deposit and are forced into permanent renting which, for those who have experienced it, is a distinctly unpleasant and insecure existence, apart from the fact that it soaks up most of your disposable income.

The last time houses were this unaffordable in Britain Benjamin Disraeli was Prime Minster.

However, with the resumption of consumer inflation and the central banks’ response of raising interest rates, the majority are no longer so content. They are, belatedly, seeing at first hand the malevolent side of asset-price inflation. Because house prices, with official blessing, have risen exponentially for decades, mortgages are a lot more expensive. And when interest rates rise above the minute level they have occupied for years, so do mortgage interest payments. This has resulted in huge increases in mortgage payments for many people. More than anything else, this lies behind the haemorrhaging of Conservative support in Britain. The private renting experience is going viral.

The share-owing oligarchy

What has happened to house prices might have its downsides, a defender of the status quo might argue, but surely there is little to object to in shares rising in value, the other main form of asset-price inflation? In fact there is. Undoubtedly some people benefit but the windfall accrues to a very small minority of share owners, including corporate executives who, these days, are all partially paid in share options. The original Thatcherite promise of a ‘share-owning democracy’ is now just a bad joke.

We now live in a resolutely two-track economy in which the stock market prospers while the real economy flounders. But given that rich people, who own shares, largely control the manufacture of public opinion, this experience doesn’t truly hit home. Thus the official opposition can come out with ludicrous non sequiturs like “when business profits, we all do” and are taken seriously.

The share price boom also comes at the cost of spiralling inequality. Since 2009, as the stock market has enjoyed nearly unprecedented gains, the wealth of the top billionaires in Britain has grown by 281%. In 2021, as actual economic activity was mothballed but massive amounts of QE ensured asset prices went skywards, the planet’s wealthiest people saw their balance sheets swell by $5 trillion. In Britain, since the pandemic, in the midst of the cost of living crisis, the number of billionaires has risen by a fifth.

Another trusted method of ensuring share prices go on rising – share buy backs – also damages the real economy. Because often the money companies use to buy back their shares (thus decreasing their number and raising their price) comes from funds that could otherwise be spent on business investment, they work to enrich their shareholder owners at the expense of wider economic health. Anaemic investment in production is a problem all over the western world.

The share price boom is not a win-win situation. It’s more like they win, you lose.

The economic trapeze

Central bankers – those who twiddle the dials of the world economy – are in a real quandary because of the actions of the Houthis. They believed they had, through historically moderate interest rates rises, solved the problem of the re-emergence of consumer inflation, as prices were heading downwards. They could then return to their prime function – ensuring that asset prices go on rising.

However, if global trade is impaired because of attacks on shipping in the Middle East, consumer inflation may return with a vengeance. If that happens, central bankers might feel they have no choice but to increase interest rates again, risking pricking the multi-asset bubble they have so carefully cultivated for the last decade or more.

It is a little appreciated fact that the 2008 Global Financial Crisis was sparked after a rise in interest rates. In America, they rose, incrementally, from 1 per cent in 2003 to 5.25% in 2007. Really large rises in interest rates do cause recessions, as evidenced by the experience of Britain and America in the early 1980s when, to prepare the ground for the Thatcher and Reagan ‘revolutions’, rates were increased to 17/18% in full knowledge of the carnage that would – and did – follow.

Given that western economies are much more indebted than they ever were when John Lennon was murdered, much more modest rises could have a catastrophic effect. 

According to economist Radhika Desai, if the Federal Reserve raises interest rates to “required levels, the US can expect a recession that will make that of the 1980s seem like a boom”. The alternative to not doing so is, if the projected effect on world trade comes to pass, the return of chronic (consumer) inflation. “Both paths,” she says “will damage working class incomes and wellbeing”.

Other People's Money – The Degeneration of Thatcherism, part two

 And so we move on to part two of the chronicle of the Conservatives’ remarkably profligate attitude towards other people’s money, despite what Margaret Thatcher may have led you to believe in 1978. Here is part one. 

This revisionism is not solely directed at Conservative hypocrisy – tempting as that may be – it also exposes the barren hulk of the current Labour party, which promises to transport us back to the halcyon days of early David Cameron. Another of Margaret Thatcher’s famous lines was to describe New Labour as her greatest achievement. “We forced our opponents to change their minds,” she said. And we haven’t stopped paying for it since.

Housing

If any part of British society bears the unmistakable imprint of Thatcherism – and almost all do in some way – it is the housing sector. The policy of the ‘Right to Buy’ – allowing council house tenants to buy their homes at discounted rates – undoubtedly came to embody the Thatcherite promise of creating a ‘property-owning democracy’. In awarding her the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the elder George Bush commended Thatcher for putting “private roofs over British heads”. But the policy, because it also involved preventing councils from replacing the stock they had to sell, had one consequence that was the polar opposite of owning your own property – having to rent it.

The number of private renters has more than doubled since the turn of the century and that doesn’t include those renting from housing associations. This change was enabled by classic Thatcher-era legislation, the 1988 Housing Act, a deregulatory bonfire which introduced short-term tenancies, allowed landlords to charge whatever rent they liked, and got rid of any security of tenure for tenants, permitting them to be evicted with only two months’ notice. It presaged a huge change from the post-war social democratic settlement which was characterised by a mix of owner occupation and council housing. “The private landlord, increasingly associated with the rack-renting of slums was nearly eliminated”, wrote historian David Edgerton of that period.

But this brave new (old) world which saw the triumphant return of the private landlord and the phasing out of council housing had consequences: the number of private tenants who couldn’t afford the rent, and thus became reliant on financial assistance from the state, shot up. The amount spent on housing benefit increased from less than £2 billion to £24 billion in 2015/6 and now stands at over £30 billion a year. This is a public subsidy to landlords to make up for the fact that the level of rent they are charging is beyond the capacity of their tenants to pay. True Thatcherite Conservatives like to present the enormous housing benefit bill as indicative of out-of-control welfare spending that needs to be pruned back but, in fact, it is a direct result of their deliberate gutting of the post-war social order.

Speaking of which, the Cameron/Osborne administration did successfully, although temporarily, reduce the size of the housing benefit subsidy. Naturally, this was through eliminating tenants’ entitlement to it – through denying it to under-21 year olds and introducing a benefit cap – rather than reducing the need for it by cutting rents. Curiously though, a little publicised feature of the Conservatives’ 2016 Welfare Reform Act did indicate the financially sensible nature of the latter approach. ‘Social’ Landlords – i.e. local councils and housing associations – were required to reduce rents by 1% a year for four years. According to a House of Commons Research Briefing, “of all the measures implemented to date, the requirement on social landlords to reduce rents …. has achieved the highest level of saving.”

Innocently, you might think therefore that such a policy of rent capping should be applied to the private sector, where rents, the number of renters and the housing benefit subsidy have all mushroomed over the last 30 years. But such an idea doesn’t factor in how the Conservatives are the party of asset owners, whose interests – even if reliant on a huge state subsidy – must be protected at all costs. Rent control, if applied to the private sector, seems to cause an irrationally vituperative reaction among Conservatives. Friedrich Hayek, Margaret Thatcher’s favourite philosopher, described the policy as “deadly”. More recent adepts have condemned it as almost as devastating to a city as bombing it.

At the other end of the scale, the Conservatives have subsidised the deposits and mortgage repayments of first time home (usually flat) buyers through the Help to Buy scheme launched in 2013 which has so far cost £21 billion. Aside from artificially raising house prices, and thus benefiting housebuilders like Taylor Wimpey, the scheme has left recipients high and dry after the huge rise in interest rates, and thus mortgage interest payments, following the Truss debacle. But such is the Conservatives’ obsession with home ownership, seen as such an indelible part of Thatcher’s remodelling of British society, they are prepared to move heaven and earth –  including their own allegedly free market ideology – to massage the optics.

The Economy

The Conservatives did not, it should be said, instigate the huge state bail out of the banks that the British government felt it had no choice but to pay following the 2008 financial crisis. That was the prerogative of the last Labour government. But market fundamentalist Thatcherite ideology – convinced of the inherent wisdom of allowing those at the top of society maximum leeway – was certainly in attendance in spirit.  And the Sunak administration is pursuing the very sensible policy of removing the regulations that Cameron introduced as a sop to the prevailing zeitgeist that something had to be done to prevent 2008 from playing out again. I’m sure it’ll end well.

What can be laid at the door of Thatcher’s children, however, is subsequently using the exclusive money generating power of the state to massively augment the wealth of the richest in society. This was through the capital creating policy of Quantitative Easing (QE). Since 2008, QE has been deployed three times – immediately in response to the financial crisis (Labour), after the Brexit vote (Tory) and then again in the economic panic that ensued post-Covid (Tory) – totalling £895 billion in Britain alone.

QE works by creating a huge mass of money (so-called fiat money), that naturally seeks investment opportunities. The stock market is one of those investment outlets, although the booms engineered are decoupled from traditional market reasoning – the backing of companies because they are thought likely to be successful in the future. The resultant “explosion in billionaire wealth” – the cumulative wealth of the UK’s top 10 billionaires has increased by 281% since 2009 – therefore cannot be explained solely, or even mainly, by the natural workings of the market. During the pandemic for example, economic activity and growth plummeted but the number of UK billionaires rose by a fifth. This huge wealth – a billion is a thousand million – has been given a stupendous boost by positively Stalinist state intervention, carried out by, among others, devoted Thatcherites.

It should also be pointed out that Quantitative Easing directly contradicts one of the core tenets of original Thatcherism, that of monetarism. Developed by the American ‘free market’ economist, Milton Friedman, monetarism held that, to combat inflation, the supply of money should be strictly controlled. Doubtless the theory was honoured in the breach by ’80s Conservatives, but from the 2010s government policy around the world has simply laughed at it. Whether the inflation we are now experiencing has something to do with massive increases in the money supply – á la Friedman – is a moot point. In the last decade, notwithstanding regular doses of QE, the main threat was deflation, not inflation, suggesting that the capital boost of QE had stayed within the financial system. Possibly the last tranche of it – the creation of $834 million dollars an hour worldwide for 18 months – was so huge that some of it, in line with the official narrative, leaked out. Or maybe support for a largely mothballed ‘real’ economy – i.e. increasing the amount of money in circulation but reducing the amount of goods – produced the classic ingredients for inflation. Who knows?

Certainly now, we are seeing the opposite of QE, so-called Quantitative Tightening (QT), on the part of the world’s central banks, along with increases in interest rates. Whether this presages a new financial crisis, which may be unfolding as we speak, is an interesting question. But to even make a dent in the massive inequality caused by the economic intervention of adoring Thatcherites it would have to go on for decades.

Possibly Conservatives would retort that their post-Thatcher predilection for economic intervention does not just help those at the summit of the society but also the many millions at the bottom end. This is through working tax credits which ‘top up’ low or moderate incomes. Tax credits were introduced in America in the 1970s and expanded massively by Bill Clinton. Naturally, this country followed suit, and working tax credits became a core part of New Labour’s welfare philosophy (with emphasis on the working).

Their origin among parties theoretically antithetical to Thatcherism and Reaganism is deceptive, however. In reality, tax credits are another form of state subsidy to vested interests, enabling employers to pay low wages and institute more part-time or zero hours contracts with the assurance that the state will meet the shortfall. They are an essential part of our Thatcherite economic landscape. In 2015, the charity Citizens UK revealed that large retailers, such as Next and Tesco, were costing taxpayers £11 billion annually so that their staff could enjoy “a basic standard of living”. The situation has only become more acute in the interim.

Perfunctory, if high profile, attempts to wean on employers off tax credits, such as Osborne’s higher minimum wage, have not worked partly because they have been accompanied by a never-ending war on trade unions, the one force in society capable of making tax credits unnecessary through compelling employers to pay higher wages. Rishi Sunak’s anti-strike legislation, which permits employers to seek damages for the effect of strikes, will hit what’s left of trade union power, already hobbled, as we know, by archetypal Thatcherism. Tax credits in themselves are hostile to trade unions because if wages rise because of trade union influence, the tax credit level will fall as a result. It is no accident that a country such as Norway, which regards trade unions as social partners, not ‘the enemy within’, and which has a system of sectoral collective bargaining to determine wages, has not introduced tax credits. It doesn’t even have a minimum wage because strong trade unions mean it isn’t necessary. Norway, incidentally, also has a much higher standard of living.

It’s clear that the Thatcherites in Britain didn’t vanquish ‘socialism’ as they claimed they had. They merely changed the beneficiary group.

Covid and Corruption

There is something viscerally enraging about the Conservatives’ fiscal incontinence during the Covid pandemic.  It came after years of justifying taking money away from poor people – through policies like the benefit cap, sanctions and reducing the amount received by sickness claimants by £30 a week – on the grounds that it was only fair to the hard-pressed taxpayer.

But the interests of the taxpayer, allegedly so close to Conservative hearts, were strangely downgraded during the Covid lockdown when corruption and the raiding of the public purse by friendly businesses were rife. Virtually no prosecutions concerning the £5.8 million lost through fraud have taken place despite 30,000 allegations of fraud being reported to HMRC. The same is true of Rishi Sunak’s month-long Eat Out to Help Out scheme, which attracted an estimated £21 million in fraudulent claims from the hospitality sector. This dawdling contrasts with the alacrity that the Conservatives look upon alleged fraud in the benefits system. Permanently staffed hot-lines for the public to report fraud, regular tests for sick and disabled people, and the dispensing of thousands of sanctions to claimants for not upholding their “contract with the state”, have been features of this parallel universe in the UK for years.

In total £4.3 billion lost in fraud during Covid has been written off by the Treasury, prompting one minister in the House of the Lords to resign and accuse the government of “having little interest in the consequences of fraud to our society”.

But far from having little interest in it, Conservatives seem positively in favour of subverting free market ethics when it involves their friends. Michelle Mone, accused of secretly receiving some of the profits of a PPE firm that won large government contracts after she recommended it ministers, became a Conservative life peer in 2015. Altogether, nearly £1 billion in Covid contracts were awarded to 15 companies linked to donations to the Conservative party. It certainly pays to network.

The Conservatives’ alleged concern with getting value for money for the taxpayer is for the birds. The overriding aim is that 1) A narrow elite circle benefit and 2) The cash – otherwise known as other people’s money – finds its way through labyrinthine sub-contracting to the “good hands” of the private sector. Dido Harding, appointed as chair of “NHS Test and Trace” in 2020 is an example. Her lack of medical experience was no obstacle. Known as “an accomplished networker” according to The Times, she went to Oxford with David Cameron, married a future Conservative minister, and rose to become the chief executive of a mobile phone company and a Tory peer. Despite being given an astronomical £37 billion in funding, Test and Trace, reliant on sub-contracting by firms like Serco and consultants paid up to £6,000 a day, was a monumental failure, with more than 60% of those with Covid symptoms not being contacted. By contrast, the in-house teams of the doomed Public Health England and local authorities reached nearly 98% of their contacts. Go figure.

Ubi omnes errabis?

As alluded to earlier, this is not about simple hypocrisy. Arguably most political movements are hypocritical in that they don’t do what they say they are going to. The historical reputation of the Britain and America is that they compelled the rest of the world to accept the virtues of free trade, whereas in reality they were arch protectionists, and in Britain’s case, actually destroyed the industries of competitors through imperialism.

But Thatcherism started out with free market intentions. In its early days it preached the tenets of monetarism and controlling the money supply, sold off loss making industries to the private sector, declared war on trade unions as impediments to ‘free’ employment relations and hiked interest rates (causing a huge recession and remaining unmoved while thousands of businesses who couldn’t survive in the new unforgiving environment went to the wall). Only gradually – through for example contracting out essential public services and bailing out ‘too big to fail’ banks – did it morph into something else. Now the Thatcherites, notwithstanding their free market sheen, are presiding contentedly over a system of socialism for the rich.

Partly this is to do with misunderstanding what conservatism is. Friedrich Hayek, the major intellectual influence on the modern Conservative party, succeeded in reconnecting it to its classical liberal, or ‘old Whig’, philosophical inheritance. According to him, this conservative-liberalism, in contrast to idealistic socialism, had a “low” view of human nature. Hayek famously said that everything would turn out well if everyone behaved selfishly. But this selfishness was meant to exist within the law and the rules of the free market.

But nobody, besides intellectuals, believes in the sanctity of the free market. Many wealthy people will go where they can make even more money and the state, which rakes in and distributes hundreds of billions of pounds, offers that opportunity. The corruption around Covid illustrates the temptations and modern privatisation more broadly relies on the existence of a well-endowed state which can re-distribute taxpayer funds to the private sector. The Conservatives have, for years, been resolutely unforgiving about a ‘something for nothing’ attitude on the part of the multitude. Benefit sanctions, already at an all-time high, are being multiplied still further by Jeremy Hunt. But for the rich this sternness melts like ice left out in the sun. This is because the Conservatives are, and always were, a class-based party and exponents of class solidarity. When Tony Blair declared in 1999 that the class war was over, only one side was listening.

But the degeneration of Thatcherism has deeper causes than just the class bias of the Conservative party. Thatcher tapped into a profound conviction among Conservatives that if burdensome regulations and socialistic rates of taxation were lifted, the result would be prosperity for all and runaway economic growth. This certitude can be traced back to Adam Smith who thought the “natural effort of every individual to better his condition” was so powerful a principle it would carry society to “wealth and prosperity” and surmount ignorant obstacles placed in the way by “the folly of human laws”.

Coincidentally, the UK did – in common with the rest of the world – experience an economic boom in the mid-1980s. Naturally, Thatcherites took this as confirmation of the economic wisdom of their policies, which despite the temporary pain involved, had to be persevered with (actually the pain was probably connected to the ensuing boom, capitalism had always relied on a shake-down of capital value to lay the ground for subsequent growth). In fact, the economic boom of the mid-1980s became lodged in the public mind as the consequence of tough Thatcherite medicine and has endured despite the boom being revealed as a unique event.  Economic growth has declined in every decade since the 1980s, culminating in the present torpor. Real wages are not predicted to return to their 2008 level until 2026 and are experiencing a 3.9% annual decline, productivity is terrible when compared to before the Financial Crisis (0.5% compared to 2.3%), and business investment is anaemic.

But rather than face up to these issues, Thatcher’s children are umbilically attached to the idea that the only solution is more deregulation and tax reductions for the investors. These policies – known as supply-side reforms because they concentrate on those ‘supplying’ investment and employment (or not) – are religiously propagated by many conservatives despite the fact that they have already been implemented, with the results we see before us, for nigh on four decades (the corporation tax rate was 52% in 1981, it is now 19%). Liz Truss, for example, convinced herself that a bias towards redistribution over economic growth lay at the root of poor economic performance despite the evidence pointing in exactly the opposite direction.

One very obvious reason why these questions are not honestly examined, is that it would move into the crosshairs numerous Thatcherite shibboleths, most notably the idée fixe that underperforming economic growth can be palliated by reducing tax rates and irksome regulations on the wealthy. This ‘fix’ seems to be impervious to empirical evidence, though the Sunak administration is finally increasing corporation tax after decades of reductions, hoping no-one will notice that this contradicts a basic tenet of conservative economic philosophy.

As the South Korean economist Ha-Joon Chang pointed out a few years ago, the level of regulation is not a disincentive if there is a prospect of profit to be made. “…. strange as it may seem to most people without business experience,” he wrote in 2010  “businesspeople will get 299 permits … if there is enough money to be made at the end of the process. “In contrast, if there is little money to be made at the end of the process, even 29 permits may look too onerous.”

Why there is in the UK “little money to be made” – with the notable exception of finance and property – is not a question many are eager to ask, especially if it indicts their whole economic strategy which supposedly rests upon the inherent virtue of making money.

Herein lays the explanation as to why Thatcherism has degenerated into a system of socialism for the rich. It’s quite possible – indeed common – to remain ideologically blinkered in the face of evidence showing the hollowness of your ideology. It’s even possible to implement policies, such as corporate tax cuts, that do not have the beneficial effect you say they will. But it’s not possible to ignore the real world consequences of the failure of your economic philosophy. That is why free market Thatcherism has degraded into a swirl of subsidies, bail-outs, phoney privatisations, landlord patronage and plain corruption. They’ve been necessary because the free market hasn’t been able to prosper under its own devices and if you, as a party, represent the interests of asset-holders at the end of the day, they aren’t especially difficult choices to make. And in those circumstances, delving into the ready pile of “other people’s money” becomes irresistibly tempting.

But the remains – what lies at the root of economic failure?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Trouble with Wealth

Living in a World with too much capital

Inequality is usually pictured as the obscene contrast between grinding poverty and unmerited opulence, between mile-long queues at food banks and corporate CEOs buying gold wrapped steaks with their £5 million annual salaries. Hunger in the midst of unbelievable plenty.

Or, in economic terms, through the irrationality of a system that blocks the flow of money to the mass of people, thus creating a demand problem as the poor – or not wealthy – are far more likely to spend their income than the rich.

There is nothing wrong with viewing inequality in these ways but in my opinion they leave something important out. What they overlook is that great wealth is a problem in itself, not just in relation to poverty. This is because wealth is invariably transmuted into capital – money invested in order to make money which is then reinvested again in a never-ending process. And capital which is not directed to a palpable collective need, inevitably distorts society and makes solving urgent problems such as climate change all but impossible.

A Tale of Two Factors

Economists often refer to capital and labour as “factors” in production, i.e. inputs that enable goods or services to be produced and turn a profit. As shown by heterodox economist Harry Shutt, western economies hit a benign equilibrium during the post-war boom (1950-73) in that there was strong demand for both factors – capital and labour. The result was extremely low unemployment (around 3% in Britain) and buoyant growth in fixed investment (capital investment in physical assets such as factories, buildings, equipment, vehicles etc.) that actually exceeded GDP growth.

However, after stagnation set in the mid-70s, the rate of fixed investment fell below GDP and unemployment began to rise. The decline in fixed investment has continued over the ensuing decades, dropping from 20% of GDP in France, Germany, Britain, Japan and the US in 1980 to 14% in 2015. Unemployment spiked in the 1980s and ‘90s. Its subsequent official decline has much to do with compelling individuals to take any available work – Germany introduced ‘mini-jobs’, for example, and on-demand labour and self-employment have mushroomed everywhere. In Britain, if you work for one hour a week, you’re counted as employed. And in order to “make work pay” it is subsidised by the state in the form of tax credits.

In essence, intensified by technological advancement, the demand for both factors of production – capital and labour – waned significantly. However, the way they were treated could not have been more different. Labour, if organised, was denigrated as a pariah and a self-interested impediment to the production of goods and wealth. Unions were ensnared by legal restrictions and the unemployed compelled to retrain and make themselves attractive to employers.

Capital, by contrast, – despite facing, in Shutt’s words, “a demand-supply imbalance comparable to that of labour” – was fêted as the essential ingredient of wealth creation. Entrepreneurs were lauded, profitability seen as a desideratum that benefited all, and the rate of return demanded on capital was intensified. In addition, the “wall of money” at the top of society was augmented by an influx of pension funds into financial markets which naturally demanded a healthy return in order to pay their beneficiaries.

The result has been an immense surplus of capital which cannot be sated by purely physical innovation but is nonetheless perpetually in search of profitable opportunities. This state of affairs distorts society in multiple ways. One way has been a turn to debt-based speculation entirely unrelated to material assets. This path caused the 2008 financial crisis. But there are many other examples.

Gimme Shelter

The environment is one. Oil companies have responded to looming climate catastrophe by transforming their rhetoric but little else. They proclaim a commitment to a ‘green transition’ but still try to “optimise” their oil and gas portfolios and prioritise new exploration. Investment in renewable energy is so low it doesn’t warrant a distinct category in their accounts. Many institutional investors, such as pension funds, charities, and universities, under pressure from climate activists, are committed to divesting from such companies and investing in renewables. However, hedge funds – pooled investment funds patronised by extremely rich individuals that aim to beat average market returns – have stepped into the breach. They are buying large stakes in oil companies, pushing up their share price. “People don’t understand how much money you can make in things that people hate,” commented one manager.

Thus the surplus of capital is ensuring that any progress made on climate change is, under this economic system, instantly reversed.

The financialisation of housing is another way capital is perverting a basic social need. In countless cities around the world, rents have shot up after investors – invariably an unholy combination of hedge funds, private equity funds, and Real Estate Investment Funds (REITS) – have bought up whole blocks of rental properties, viewing them as lucrative income streams. Alternatively, housing is demolished to make way for luxury apartments. Berlin presents an extreme case. €42 billion was spent on large-scale real estate investment between 2007 and 2020.  According to one analyst, after the 2008 financial crisis, investors were looking for a place to put their money and set their sights on Berlin. In a city where 85% of the residents are renters, rents have increased by 70% in nine years. Despite the existence of a strong cooperative sector and state-owned housing companies, over four in 10 rental properties in the German capital are owned by either financial market investors or big, private landlords.

Unsurprisingly, given the city’s culture, there is resistance. In September, a referendum in favour of expropriating Berlin’s largest corporate landlords, who collectively own 11% of apartments in the city, was passed. Whether the result will be carried through, however, remains doubtful.

One way of looking at the frenzy for privatisation which has taken hold throughout the world since the 1980s is not just in terms of corporate capture or ideological monomania, but as an outlet for an ever-growing mass of surplus capital. Privatisation is a longing that can never be quenched. In the first stage of privatisation state-owned industries were hived off to the market in one-off sales. But that was just the appetizer. Now private capital is guaranteed an income stream by running, on a contract basis, public services funded by taxation. In Britain, railways and buses, even spy planes, are operated in this fashion, while the state-funded National Health Service is gradually being hollowed out by private provision. In 2010, the NHS spent £4.1 billion on private sector contracts. Nine years later, this figure had more than doubled.

‘Exiled’ former Labour party leader Jeremy Corbyn posed a genuine threat to these vested interests – through for example a pledge to “renationalise” the NHS. He jeopardised an extremely fruitful, and necessary, income stream and thus had to be destroyed.

Globally, a kindred process has occurred. Where public services have not been gutted, the state serves as a convenient shield behind which public funds are directed into private hands. Under the guise of attaining universal health coverage, the Kenyan government has subsidised access to private care, given private providers higher reimbursement rates and formed public-private partnerships with international companies at great expense. All this has been done at the behest of international agencies such as the World Bank and billionaire charities like the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

“More and more people have been priced out of health care because of their socioeconomic situation and inability to access private care either because of the expenses involved or because the type of help they are looking for is not available, because it's not profitable”, says an author of a report on the subject.

There are numerous other instances of the pernicious effects of surplus capital scouring the globe to meet its unquenchable appetites. A partial list must include the warping of democracy and the media, the money laundering role of football, and the targeting of children by consumer giants. The problem of inequality – and thus contemporary capitalism – is apparent not just in too little money at the bottom of society, but too much at the top.

Check Your Privilege

But curiously one could argue this is contrary to the original purpose of capitalism. Defenders of the system are fond of pointing out its modernizing character in contrast to atavistic socialism. However, the myriad anti-social effects of surplus capital serve to illustrate how we in the 21^st century are living according to the dictates of a 19^th century system. Modern capitalism and its attendant institutions were born at the height of the Victorian age. Stock markets and joint-stock companies (later known as corporations) were created to facilitate outside investment – capital – in economic enterprises and limited liability laws introduced to protect investors by ensuring that if their chosen enterprise failed, they would lose nothing more than the original sum they ventured. Shutt calls “the privilege of limited liability”– which still exists – “the bedrock of capitalism”.

In the description of Canadian law professor Joel Bakan, “the modern corporation was invented in the mid-nineteenth century to help create pools in investment capital needed to finance new and growing industrial ventures, like railways, steamship lines, and factories.” Corporate law, he says, was “designed to incentivize and thereby produce the fuel, capital, that the system needs to operate.” Without it, “the whole system, not just the corporation but capitalism itself, would grind to a halt.”

Arguably, at the time, incentivizing the “fuel” did produce immense dynamism and social benefit in the form of railways, steamship lines etc. Even Karl Marx was impressed, paying tribute to the “colossal productive forces” unleashed by the bourgeoisie. But now this “fuel” is primarily engaged in a compulsive and blind search for profit, no matter whether this adds to social welfare, or more likely, degrades it. To stretch Bakan’s metaphor, the van is now full but the pump is still spewing out more petrol which is spilling all over the station forecourt and running down the street.

The capital imperative is now not merely anachronistic and anti-social but positively deadly. We now know that order to stand some chance of staying within the limit of no more than 1.5 degrees of global warming by 2050 – and thus potentially dodging catastrophic climate tipping points – the vast majority of fossil fuel reserves must remain in the ground. However, such a philosophy of abstention is utterly alien to the nature of capital which is myopically impelled to exploit short-term profit. And in a world of boundless surplus capital – with each fragment on an eternal search for profitable opportunities – such an endeavour is doomed from the start.

In 2014, geographer David Harvey estimated that capital had to find profitable opportunities worth $2 trillion in order to satisfy the requisite ‘return on investment’. By 2030, he gauges, that need will have increased to around $3 trillion. “Thereafter the numbers become astronomical,” he writes. “Imagined physically, the enormous expansions in physical infrastructures, in urbanisation, in workforces, in consumption and in production capacities that have occurred since the 1970s until now will have to be dwarfed into insignificance over the coming generation if the compound rate of capital accumulation is to be maintained.”

And we also have to imagine what non-physical – i.e. speculative – investment will do to the world in the coming years.

Bending the Knee

But, perversely, rather than face up to this literally unsustainable situation, the world’s governments have chosen to artificially turbo-charge capital creation. Through the central bank policy of Quantitative Easing, the quantity of money in the financial system has been massively expanded – by an estimated $13.9 million a minute since 2020. As a result, developed economies have largely weathered the Covid outbreak but at the cost of hugely increased inequality. The combined wealth of US billionaires has risen by 70% since the start of the pandemic, a period of a little more than 18 months. In Britain, the number of billionaires has jumped by a quarter while globally billionaire fortunes have increased by 27% in the context of an expected rise in extreme poverty for the first time this century. For reference a billion is a thousand million.

But those are merely the personal effects. QE has also instituted fake stock market booms, facilitated the lucrative practice of companies taking over their rivals (to no-one’s benefit bar senior executives and bankers), produced skyrocketing property prices in the UK, and swelled the resolutely short-termist venture capital industry. In short, rather than – heaven forbid – standing up to the immensely powerful vested interests around capital enrichment, governments have chosen to bend the knee and grant their every wish. Contrast this with the way defenceless benefit claimants are treated and you have an insight into the mentality of most politicians.

There is a current in left-wing thought that is indifferent to wealth inequality, viewing it as far less pernicious than income inequality despite the fact that it is more extreme. Before the pandemic, wealth inequality was rising in 49 countries. Its enormous increase in the brief time since Covid struck has prompted calls for a tax on wealth. But if wealth inequality has spiralled in such a short period, what will happen in the years to come when many of its causes will likely remain untouched? A wealth tax will be a mere drop in the ocean.

Great wealth is profoundly undemocratic, concentrating economic decision-making in fewer and fewer hands. But it also ensures that capital enrichment, a process which profoundly hurts and perverts society, is set in stone and will intensify year by year. The time is coming when we will find what it does intolerable.