Monthly Archives: March 2025

Britain, Economic, Financial Markets, Government, Politics

Spring statement 2025: A stage built on myths

BRITAIN

BRITAIN is tightening its belt. The chancellor’s spring statement arrives with the gloomy tone of inevitability. Welfare payments for the sick and disabled will be shrunk, and public services from transport to criminal justice face much leaner times. The language is that of necessity. There is no money. The choices are hard, but unavoidable. So runs the rhetorical script.

The notion that painful cuts are inevitable is political theatre and grandstanding. Either Rachel Reeves knows the constraints are self-imposed – or, more troubling, believes they are real. Last October, she announced £190bn in extra spending, £140bn in additional borrowing, and £35bn more in taxes than previously forecast. The Treasury has expounded upon this by insisting “you can’t pour that amount of money into the state and call it austerity”.

Yes you can. Particularly where tens of billions are siphoned off in debt interest to uphold economic orthodoxy rather than meet social needs. The UK now spends more than £100bn a year on debt interest not because it is financially insolvent, but to a substantial degree because the Bank of England is offloading vast amounts of gilts, bought during quantitative easing, at a loss. The Treasury must cover these losses, while the flood of gilts into financial markets drives up interest rates on new borrowing. This is quantitative tightening (QT), with the state left to foot the bill for soaring interest costs and Bank payouts. Nonetheless, the Office for Budget Responsibility assumes that it will continue, locking in high costs.

This is ideology posing as policy. And it’s far from prudent. No money for free school meals or youth clubs, some parliamentarians warn, yet billions pour into the pockets of bondholders, for the sake of “stability”. Ending QT could redirect that money to public services – a better priority than reassuring markets with symbolic gestures.

If the Bank won’t stop on its own, it must be pushed. Under Gordon Brown, the Central Bank gained its independence in 1998 but included a safeguarding caveat: in “extreme economic circumstances” ministers can override the Bank in the public interest. If £100bn in spending isn’t extreme, what is? QT should be paused. The Bank stands alone among G7 peers in actively selling bonds and demanding Treasury cash to cover paper losses. This is self-defeating in a dangerously volatile world. Gilts could be strategically managed. Before New Labour, Kenneth Clarke often ignored the Bank’s advice – and was often right. But such thinking is now deemed heretical in a political culture that treats Central Bank independence as sacred, even when it deepens and exasperates public hardship.

The deeper irony cannot be lost on anyone. The chancellor refuses to raise taxes on the wealthy, will not relax her fiscal rules, and has ruled out borrowing more. So she claims that there is no alternative to cuts. Yet, these are self-imposed constraints – combined with deference to an unelected monetary authority – that sustain the illusion of necessity. Labour has been here before: Snowden did the same in the 1930s, and very nearly destroyed his party.

The spring statement is a performance. She asks the public to accept a diminished state as the result of external forces, when actually it’s the result of internal dogma. Worse, she may believe the script – failing to recall the economic tools once used to steer interest rates, debt, and public investment. Austerity isn’t the price of prudence, but the cost of forgetting. We have a chancellor of the exchequer who wears the mask of making tough decisions, but on a stage built on myths. The better choice would be to trim the Bank’s power, even if the spotlight has been carefully trained away from its damaging role.

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Arts, Books, Environment, Literature

Climate fiction is extolling the real threats the planet faces

LITERATURE

Intro: A newly created award recognises the power of storytelling to address the biggest issues of our time

PAUL MURRAY, author of the bestselling novel The Bee Sting, told a media audience recently that no novelist should ignore the climate emergency: “It is the unavoidable background for being alive in the 21st century.” In recognition of the essential and vital role of literature in responding to the Anthropocene moment, the inaugural shortlist has just been announced for the Climate Fiction prize.

The five novels include “Orbital” by Samantha Harvey, set during one day on the International Space Station (and the winner of last year’s Booker prize); time-travelling romcom “The Ministry of Time” from debut novelist Kaliane Bradley; eco-thriller “Briefly Very Beautiful” by Roz Dineen; “And So I Roar”, about a young girl in Nigeria, by Abi Daré; and a story of migrants in an abandoned city in Téa Obreht’s “The Morningside”. All the shortlisted authors are women.

Climate fiction is not new. Some of the landmark literary novels to have taken on the crisis include Margaret Atwood’s MaddAddam dystopian trilogy, Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic The Road, Barbara Kingsolver’s Flight Behaviour, and Richard Power’s Pulitzer-prize-winning The Overstory. Science fiction, inevitably, has become the genre of ecological catastrophe, with hits like Kim Stanley Robinson’s “The Ministry for the Future”, with all the inhabitants of a small Indian town perishing in a heatwave.

The late Ursula K le Guin wrote that the task of sci-fi was “to extrapolate imaginatively from current trends and events to a near-future that’s half prediction, half satire”. The purpose of the realist novel is to reflect the world in which we live. For a long time, the possibilities of environmental breakdown were largely considered too wild and extreme for the realism. As a consequence, climate fiction hasn’t been taken seriously enough. In “The Great Derangement” in 2016, Amitav Gosh argued that the failure of so many novelists, including himself, to address the most urgent issue of the age was part of a broader cultural failure at the heart of the climate crisis itself.

Freakish and abnormal weather events are no longer the essence of speculative fiction – “global weirding” is upon us. What was once dubbed “cli-fi” is simply contemporary fiction. Ecological anxiety is as much a part of the fictional worlds of a young generation of novelists like Sally Rooney as the internet and mobile phones.

The novels on the Climate Fiction prize shortlist do not conform to dystopian stereotypes. Some aren’t even explicitly about the crisis. Some are hopeful. Far from being a portrait of a world ravaged by disasters, Orbital, for example, is a hymn to the awe-inspiring beauty of our planet.

It could be argued that having a Booker prize winner on the shortlist suggests there is no need for a specific award, which might marginalise climate fiction as a niche genre. There is no shortage of literary gongs. “The Wainwright prize”, set up in 2014 to celebrate the best nature books, now includes an award for writing on global conservation.

Yet awards amplify the message and reach of books that might otherwise be overlooked. Scientists have been cautioning about global warming’s dire consequences for decades. Governments and industry haven’t listened. Now novelists are taking up the challenge. Stories can create an impact far greater than data alone. They can inspire change. In a world where reality has become stranger than fiction, this new accolade is necessary and important. There can be no bigger story.

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Britain, Government, Health, NHS, Politics

The abolition of NHS England

HEALTH

Intro: The Labour Government’s shake-up of the NHS in England aims to cut waste and shift resources, but the looming funding gap raises doubts about its impact

THE UK Government’s decision to abolish NHS England – the world’s largest quango – was cast as a bold strike against bureaucracy. The move is designed to cut waste, “shift money to the frontline”, and by placing the NHS in England under direct democratic control. It is a declaration of intent from Sir Keir Starmer who wants Labour not to be the party of bigger government but the party of smarter government. That’s the theory, at least. The reality, as with most things in government, is more complicated.

The announcement happens to be less of a grand health reform and more a strategic positioning exercise. Wes Streeting, the Health Secretary, and the architect of this plan, is engaged in a delicate balancing act: convincing the Treasury that the NHS can stay within budget, while simultaneously lobbying for more money that he knows the health service will inevitably require. The cull of NHS England is a useful and headline-grabbing moment. It is one that will allow Mr Streeting to claim that he is shifting cash from managers to patient care, a necessary concession when preparing to argue for more Treasury investment.

The problem is that the numbers don’t add up. The savings from axing NHS England will be modest. The organisation’s cost to the Treasury is £2bn, a tiny fraction of the NHS’s £183bn budget for 2025/26. Of this, about £400m is spent on staff who work directly with local NHS bodies, and these roles will probably continue in some form. The savings come nowhere near enough to fill next year’s estimated £6.6bn funding gap. At best, it frees up a few hundred million pounds. At worst, it shifts costs elsewhere while causing months of upheaval in an already overstretched system.

The NHS faces mounting pressure to cut costs, with the Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, insisting that it must live within its means. Hospital trusts will need to tighten their belts even further. It does not take a health economist to recognise that when resources are cut, patient demand does not magically disappear – it simply resurfaces elsewhere. If community services shut-down to balance the books, then the pressure on GPs and A&E departments will only intensify. If the health service is told to do more with less, the risk is that it simply ends up doing less with less.

Sir Keir’s embrace of Mr Streeting’s reform agenda is a calculated gamble. The PM is backing an NHS overhaul that may not deliver as promised. His endorsement, however, bolsters Mr Streeting’s standing with the Treasury, which faces a looming fiscal shortfall. With tax rises off the table, and Ms Reeves’ fiscal straitjacket firmly in place, spending cuts after 2025/26 seem an inevitability.

The NHS may have won big in the last budget, but as the Darzi report warned, it remains in “serious trouble”. Years of under-investment and overcrowded hospitals, with no relief from an overstretched social care system, have left it desperately struggling. Without greater funding, it cannot meet the rising demand of an ageing population, let alone expand its workforce. The Health Secretary must keep pressing the Treasury for the resources he needs, cloaking each plea for cash in the fashionable language of “modernising reform”.

Such rhetorical agility is a skill that Westminster normally rewards. Consider, for example, how Universal Credit came into being. But whether he delivers on his three big shifts – moving care out of hospitals, prioritising prevention, and digitising the NHS – remains to be seen. If the health service deteriorates further, the government will soon find that it has not only failed to fix the NHS in England but has taken ownership of its decline.

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