Britain, Economic, Government, International trade, Politics, United States

US tariffs: a show of coercive control

INTERNATIONAL TRADE

Intro: President Trump is wielding tariffs not as a policy tool but as an instrument of political pressure – rewarding loyalty and punishing defiance

THERE is a growing consensus that Donald Trump is embodying the French philosophy of Michel Foucault in that “politics is the continuation of war by other means”. Nowhere is this more apparent than his penchant for tariffs. He presents taxing foreign imports as a way to rebuild the American economy in favour of those workers left behind by free trade and globalisation. Quite clearly, he thinks that politics is not about truth or justice. It is about leverage and supremacy.

The UK is learning first-hand that Mr Trump, with his way of dealing and taste for spectacle, is an accidental Foucauldian – using tariffs as tools of loyalty and dominance, even against allies. If the U.S. follows through on Mr Trump’s threat to impose a 20% tariff on all imports, UK growth will suffer. The effect depends on the response. If the UK decided to do nothing that would mean GDP being 0.4% lower this year and 0.6% next. A global trade war would push that to 0.6% and 1%. Either outcome would wipe out the government’s fiscal headroom. The shrinking margins of the UK’s fiscal rules is making policymakers nervous. Trump sees no need to cloak power in objectivity.

His rationale and logic for imposing tariffs is confused. But two things are discernible. One is his self-styled image as the ultimate dealmaker; the man who can turn any situation to his advantage. The other is his view of politics as a means of structuring society to favour one group over another – not just economically, but in terms of legitimacy and who defines reality. Tariffs will probably be lifted if nations accede to Mr Trump’s wishes and, in doing so, reward politically useful constituencies, big tech allies, or his wealthy donors.

All three of these are visible in a paper-thin UK-US “economic deal”, likely to result in the lifting of Trump’s tariffs – if the US signs it. And, if so, that would further open British markets to US agribusiness; end the digital services tax, which applies to companies such as Amazon and Google; and make it difficult to hold AI companies, like those owned by Mr Trump’s ally Elon Musk, liable for harm. The danger is that whenever there’s a grievance, Mr Trump threatens tariffs – then offers to lift them if you do what he wants.

It’s even more blatant with the EU, which is expected to fine Apple and Meta under its digital competition rules. Regulation looks certain to become another front in the trade war. And that is troubling Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg.

What makes Mr Trump’s “Liberation Day” so dangerous is its scale. In 2024, the US ran a $1.2tn trade goods deficit. Just two months into his White House return, Mr Trump has imposed tariffs on goods from Canada, Mexico, China, all steel and aluminium imports, and foreign cars and auto parts. Asia will be next, including Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, India, and Vietnam.

What emerges is less of a trade policy than performance politics – where coercion, loyalty, and theatre converge. This is Foucault philosophy in action: power exercised not through rules, but through disruption and dealmaking that rewards fealty and punishes defiance. Like many others around the world, Britain is navigating a battlefield. Trump is no student of Foucault but he seems to grasp the lesson. For him, war isn’t the alternative to politics. It is politics.

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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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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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