Exciting times

What is it about right wing politics that so many politicians feel drawn to the conservative, and increasingly ultra-conservative view? Are we all possessed of a natural small ‘c’ conservatism which tends towards big ‘C’ conservatism? A sub-conscious ‘better the devil you know’ reserve? Tony Blair once told the Parliamentary Labour Party (c.2005) that to beat the Tories we have to stand on their territory (or words to that effect), which I didn’t interpret as meaning we’ll park our tanks on their lawn, more like let’s assimilate ourselves amongst them in a form of gradualism so that over time we merge into one harmonious entity.
 
Small ‘c’ conservatism springs from wanting to manage our own affairs without outside interference, especially when it comes to money. This seems reasonable, indeed it has a ring of Christian reasonableness about it, as in ‘Pay unto Caesar what is Caesar’s . . . (i.e. as little as possible). So in politics we demand that our taxes should be well spent, on the things we want, and people who aren’t wealth creators should go and live in their own leper colonies to be shunned (and certainly not rewarded) by society. They can be catered for by charity.  Liz Truss knows a thing or two about this. Talking in the Daily Telegraph today about cutting the top rate of income tax from 45p to 40p: “This is a tax that raises literally no money,” she says indignantly, “because people who are wealthy leave the country or don’t work as hard because the tax rate is too high.” Patriotism comes at a price it seems, or alternatively one should punish the economy by ceasing to be a ‘hard working wealth generator.’ Money and country are related—the nation is a projection of oneself, since it is there to protect what you’ve got from feckless foreigners, after you’ve done your individual bit to protect what you’ve got from your own feckless government. Of the former, there is a direct line from Thatcher’s EU rebate to Brexit. Of the influence of the latter, there is a direct line through Gordon Brown’s ‘prudence,’ ConDem austerity, Ed Balls’ ‘austerity lite’ to now Rachel Reeves’ ‘fiscal discipline.’ The trend always seems to be rightward with no other narrative permissible, i.e. anything ‘not grown up.’ Or as the Tory election posters strap line in 1997 had it ‘there’s no gain without pain.’ Gordon Brown agreed: he stuck with Tory spending plans for another two years.
 
The conservative anti-borrowing mantra came a bit unstuck with the anomaly that was Liz Truss. Her billions of tax cuts were to be funded by borrowing, on the premise that the borrowing would over time be discounted by growth. All those hard working wealth generators would not only double their efforts, if we were lucky they’d also choose to stay in the country. We’d be like America. The fatal weakness in her position was that there is no evidence to support the idea that tax cuts produce more (and sustainable) growth than does direct public investment. £70 billion spent on public goods like health and education would be far more productive than more yachts and private jets. But there is one thing we should agree on with Truss—it’s worth borrowing to achieve a goal. Most people do it to buy a house and who has a problem with that?
 
Well, it seems Labour does with its downgraded ambitions for fiscal freedom. It is a great irony that now Reeves and Co. can point a finger at Truss as the profligate one, a reputation Labour has struggled to escape. But we live in a Manichean world, where liminal differences of tonality are all that matters. Never mind what’s best, let’s just portray politics as a competition between you and your image in the mirror.