Britain, Economic, Government, Politics, Society

How is it ‘socialism’ to say that market failure beckons on a grand scale?

CONSERVATIVE PARTY ETHOS?

Thatcher’s revolution of the 1980s led to politicians of all persuasions putting their faith in a new economic paradigm – a guarantee of prosperity for the majority, which has lasted decades. Today, however, following the ‘Great Contraction’ of 2008-2009, political parties can no longer offer that guarantee with the same level of confidence. Whilst economic growth in Britain has returned following three years of stagnation it is forecast that real wages will not increase until 2015 and will not return to their pre-crash levels until 2023. A fractious and defective energy market, in which just six companies control 98 per cent of supply, has left more than 4.5 million in ‘fuel poverty’. Extortionate rents within the inner cities have forced millions to rely on housing benefit. By any measure, this must amount to market failure on a grand scale.

The crisis in living standards is a challenge for all political parties but no more so than for the Conservatives, the natural defenders of capitalism. After Ed Miliband, the Labour leader, pledged to freeze energy prices until 2017 – and to build 200,000 homes a year by 2020 – the Conservative Party had a chance to offer its own solutions. Alas, as we witnessed from the conference in Manchester, it retreated to its comfort zone. Aided by an ever more right-wing press, speaker after speaker derided Mr Miliband as a ‘socialist’ and ‘Marxist’, as if concern at deteriorating wages were comparable to a belief in world revolution.

The Conservative Party conference failed to recognise that when Margaret Thatcher assailed her left-wing opponents in the 1980s, she did so in the confidence that her free-market policies retained popular support. David Cameron does not enjoy that luxury: polls show that some two-thirds of voters support a 50p top rate of income tax, a mansion tax, stronger workers’ rights, a living wage that is more consummate with actual day living, and the renationalisation of the railways and the privatised utilities. If Mr Miliband is a socialist, so must the public be if these polls are anything to go by.

George Osborne rebuked the Labour leader for suggesting that ‘the cost of living was somehow detached from the performance of the economy’. But this was a remark that betrayed Mr Osborne’s failure to appreciate that the crisis is not merely cyclical (a problem most certainly exasperated through his austerity programme), but structural. It was in 2003, way before the crash, that wages for 11 million earners started to stagnate.

Other than a pledge to freeze fuel duty until 2015, what else did the Tories have to say on the question of living standards? The most important announcements were the earlier than intended introduction of the Help to Buy scheme and Mr Osborne’s commitment to achieve a Budget Surplus by the end of the next parliament, both of which risk further depressing incomes. By inflating demand without addressing the fundamental problem of supply, Help to Buy will make housing less affordable, while the Chancellor’s promise of a balanced Budget is likely to be met by imposing even greater cuts to benefits and services for the poorest in our society. Osborne’s ideological fixation with the public finances, particularly in relation to interest payments on the government’s debt, ignores the greater crisis in people’s finances.

On the fringes of the party, though, there was some positive thinking. The Conservative campaign group Renewal, which aims to broaden the party’s appeal among northern, working-class and ethnic minority voters, published a strategy for the building of a million new homes over the course of the next parliament, a significant increase in the minimum wage, a ‘cost of living test’ for all Acts of Parliament, and for action to be taken against ‘rip-off companies’. Yet, there is little sign that the Conservative leadership is prepared to embrace the kind of reformist, centrist agenda that secured the re-election of Angela Merkel in Germany.

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Arts, Britain, Economic, History, Philosophy, Politics, Scotland, Society

Quantum Leaps: Adam Smith (1723-1790)…

‘UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES OF INTENDED ACTION’

Scottish philosopher of morals, politics and economics, Adam Smith was a contemporary of the Empiricist, David Hume (1711-1776), and is very close to him in outlook and philosophic temperament. His lectures on ethics and logic were published under the title Theory of the Moral Sentiments but he is most famous for his work of political economics, The Wealth of Nations.

Favoured philosopher of Margaret Thatcher and darling of Conservative economists, Smith is famous for his views on private property, the free market economy and the doctrine that ‘unintended consequences of intended action’ will be to the benefit of society at large. The idea behind this most fortunate if true of principles is that in intentionally serving one’s interests one unintentionally serves the interests of society as a whole.

'The Wealth of Nations' is one of the most important and deservedly read works of economic and political philosophy in the history of Western thought.

‘The Wealth of Nations’ is one of the most important and deservedly read works of economic and political philosophy in the history of Western thought.

A simple example will illustrate the essence of Smith’s idea. Suppose that Jones, in seeking his own fortune, decides to set up and run his own business, manufacturing some common item of everyday need. In seeking to provide for his own fortune, Jones’ entrepreneurial enterprise has a number of unintentional benefits to others. First, he provides a livelihood for the people in his employ, thus benefiting them directly. Second, he makes more readily available some common item which previously had been more difficult or more expensive to obtain for his customers, thus easing one, if only minor, aspect of their lives. The forces of market economy ensure that these unintentional benefits occur, for if Jones’ workers could find more profitable employ elsewhere they would either cease to work for him or he would have to raise their salaries in order to secure a workforce. Likewise, if Jones’ product was available more readily or less expensively from some other source, Jones would either go out of business or be forced to lower his prices to a competitive rate. The model assumes the absence of a monopoly, both in the labour and economic markets.

The belief that ‘unintended consequences of intended action’ will be of benefit to society held great imaginative power over the industrial philanthropists of the 18th and 19th Centuries and provided the philosophical groundwork for the later ethical theories of Bentham and Mill. However, criticism is not hard to come by. It is surely a blinkered view, if comforting for the entrepreneurial capitalist, to suppose that pursuing one’s own self-interest constitutes a magnanimous and philanthropic act towards society at large. One has only to review the social history of industrial Britain, to witness the treacherous and exploitative working practices of the industrial age, the extreme poverty and degrading social conditions of the suffering working classes, to realise Smith’s idealistic model has far more serious ‘unintended’ consequences. What has largely brought an end to such conditions in the industrialised West is not a triumphant adherence to Smith’s principles in Western economics, but a shifting of the poverty and exploitative working practices from one part of the world to another. In other words, the living conditions of those in the West has improved to the detriment of other countries just insofar as the labour required to support Smith’s economic philosophy has been removed from Western societies and transferred to those of the Third World.

Related:

Regardless of one’s political views on Smith, The Wealth of Nations is one of the most important and deservedly read works of economic and political philosophy in the history of Western thought. It needs to be read and understood by its detractors as much as it does by its supporters.

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Britain, Business, Government, History, Politics, Society

A Royal Mail sell off makes business sense but there are risks…

ROYAL MAIL PRIVATISATION

In a world that is fundamentally different to that of the 1980s, the announcement by the Government this week that it will proceed with a £3 billion sale of Royal Mail, is the right way forward for the business if it is to survive. Margaret Thatcher baulked at the prospect and was, famously, a privatisation too far. Mrs Thatcher remarked in the Eighties that she was ‘not prepared to have the Queen’s head privatised’. Later, Michael Heseltine, and more recently, Peter Mandelson, had their privatisation plans for Royal Mail scuppered by dissenting MPs in the House of Commons.

Vince Cable, the Business Secretary, however, notified the Stock Exchange this week of the Government’s intention to float the company, which will probably take place in November. The announcement represents a further expression of economic confidence as the economy slowly recovers from a deep and difficult 5-year recession. The privatisations of British Gas and British Airways, some three decades ago, coincided with a rising tide of opportunism. The parallels are noticeable as that is beginning to be felt once more.

The sale of Royal Mail affords something similar, too, to those earlier flotations: the spread of share ownership. More than 15,000 employees are to receive 10 per cent of the shares, with the rest being offered to institutional investors and ordinary members of the public.

While not without risks, the Government’s plan does have much to recommend it. Royal Mail has suffered from both chronic under-investment and deep-rooted inflexibility as the world around it has radically changed. Royal Mail is heavily unionised and has lumbered on, but the effect has been missed opportunities on a vast scale as rivals have been able to compete on the more lucrative parcel-delivery markets, even as the digital revolution and e-mail decimated traditional letter deliveries.

Moya Green, who took over in 2010, has brought Royal Mail back into the black, which was largely helped by the Government’s takeover of its £5 billion pension deficit. Following the flotation and barring unforeseen disasters, the first dividends, totalling £133 million, will be paid in July.

Despite the Government’s plan and opportunity, the Communication Workers Union has responded in time-honoured fashion by threatening to strike. How it envisages industrial action will help its members or Royal Mail is not wholly clear. The CWU will be holding a strike ballot early next month to protest against potential changes in pay and conditions.

Some of the union’s wider concerns will be shared by many, such as the protection of minimal universal services, guaranteeing a six days-a-week service at a uniform and affordable tariff. This has after all been the hallmark of Royal Mail since its inception and is much prized. But the legislation underpinning the privatisation, which passed through Parliament two years ago, protects the universal service and will remain enshrined in law. That guarantee has been reaffirmed by the Government following its announcement to privatise.

The digital and communication revolution has hit Royal Mail hard, with a fall of 10 million in the volume of letters sent daily. That decline has been arrested to some extent because of the huge increase in goods that are ordered online and need to be delivered.

The benefits of privatisation should not be underplayed. A fleeter-footed business, no longer restricted by government investment rules and with access to private capital, will be better placed to undertake the sweeping modernisation and rationalisation the organisation still needs to go through if it is to compete and vie for business successfully. Upon being privatised, Royal Mail would then not have to compete for scarce government funding which it currently does against other government departments and budgets, such as schools, hospitals, and the police.

But there are risks. The most immediate is that the shares are sold too cheaply, repeating the mistakes of previous flotations and leaving taxpayers cheated and resentful. Over the longer term, the challenge will be a regulatory one. Though it is almost certain that the Royal Mail will continue to be bound by the universal service obligation mandating a six-day nationwide postal delivery – bar senior management tinkering with a system that could loosen some of those ties – what is unclear is how such a costly service will be funded in the future. There may be hope that booming business elsewhere, such as through online shopping, will enable cross-subsidy funding. Critics have warned of unaffordable hikes in stamp prices or even state bailouts.

Mrs Thatcher’s unwillingness to sell off Royal Mail was not only a sentimental attachment to tradition, but sprang from a hard-headed assessment of the political pitfalls of tampering with a venerable national institution. While such hazards remain, a flotation of the Royal Mail is the right decision for the Treasury, and arguably the right decision for the organisation.

In predictable style, Labour has denounced the sale – yet, it was the last government that ended the Royal Mail monopoly and opened up the postal market to competition, thereby making the eventual privatisation inevitable.

Royal Mail can be categorised as one of the foundation stones of the modern British state, one that can trace its origins to 1516, when Henry VIII established the office of Master of the Posts. For it to remain an important part of the national story, it now needs to be a commercially viable venture that is ready and willing to compete in a market with far different demands and pressures.

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