Only a writer with a taste for the macabre like Robert Louis Stevenson could
do justice to this dark tale of a fellow Scot with a split personality. Here
is related the Strange Case of Dr Gordon and Mr Brown.
Good Dr Gordon cares for the sick in Africa. His brow is furrowed with concern
for the unemployed and poor of Britain. And when he can’t do good himself he
urges goodness on others. Not a day passes without his pleading with a rich
Old Lady in Threadneedle Street to lower the interest rates at which she
lends money to impoverished debtors. Either that or he is perpetually
ringing up wealthy foreigners to bail us (and him) out.
Within the same figure there lurks a different personality. As Mr Brown he
suddenly becomes secretive, cruel and remote. A few months ago he stole the
10p income tax band from the working poor and sneered at their cries of
distress. This Brown never apologises, never explains and is relentlessly
partisan. Last Wednesday, as the killing of Baby P was raised at prime
minister’s questions, the Jekyll and Hyde transformation was plain for all
to see.
As the session began, benevolent Dr Gordon had been basking in the praise of
Labour backbenchers for his efforts to jump-start the West out of recession.
These days his smiles are no longer forced; he even looks happy having his
picture taken in tails and white tie for City banquets. He has claimed a
leading role in coordinating the recapitalisation of the banks and worldwide
cuts in interest rates which stabilised the financial system. Now he hopes
that the “emerging consensus” of economists for the short, sharp shock of a
tax giveaway will leave David Cameron and George Osborne, the shadow
chancellor, trailing nowhere. His ratings and those of the government in the
opinion polls improve daily.
So the Conservative leader was gritting his teeth when he asked his first
question about the social services’ failure to save Baby P in Haringey,
north London. It was meant to be a prelude to a series of questions on
economic matters – unemployment was up again – although Cameron had
signalled his intentions in advance by writing an article about the tragic
case for the London Evening Standard. The subject is close to his heart: he
has campaigned hard on the theme of the broken society and from his personal
circumstances we know of his deep concern for the plight of vulnerable
children.
Cameron asked about the independence of Haringey’s case review of Baby P. Exit
Dr Gordon and enter Mr Brown, who wouldn’t answer directly and read a
bureaucratic note. Pressed once more, he robotically read the note again and
accused the Tory leader of playing party politics. In a rage Cameron pointed
out, he hadn’t even named the party that runs Haringey (Labour). Cameron
demanded an apology. He got none.
Cameron finished by almost begging the prime minister: “Please just withdraw
that I was playing party politics. You know I wasn’t.” Mr Brown’s stony
reply, “We are doing the right things to get the right answer”, was belied
by an announcement just four hours later from his ally Ed Balls, the
children’s secretary, of an independent inquiry into Haringey social
services.
Cameron’s fury was perhaps excessive but it showed him at his most dangerous.
In one moment he had highlighted his ability to empathise with the outrage
so many feel about this issue. This left the prime minister floundering.
Tony Blair would have risen to the occasion and said something dignified
that met the public mood, without stooping to insult the leader of the
opposition. The prime minister should, in any case, have been primed by an
alert Downing Street machine.
Given the salience of Baby P and Cameron’s obvious interest, why was the PM
not properly briefed? Why was Balls not sitting next to him in the chamber
to whisper advice, instead of having to shout it to Jacqui Smith, the home
secretary, to pass it on? One of his supporters shrugs about the PM’s
“failure to emote”. Wrong, wrong. It is failure to empathise. He reached
rock bottom in the polls in the summer for precisely this sort of emotional
unintelligence.
The Tories, of course, go further. They charge that Dr Gordon and Mr Brown are
equally malign in their purposes. No 10 is making a cynical political gamble
with our economic future, the opposition alleges. Tax cuts can’t be afforded
in these bad times because the PM has spent all our money in the good times.
If bribing the voters with their own money buys Labour the election, then it
is mission accomplished. If a state giveaway fails to work and the Tories
win, they will be left the nasty job of hiking taxes to the skies.
That’s politics for you. “Good luck, old cock,” said the Tory chancellor
Reginald Maudling to his Labour successor, James Callaghan, as he left 11
Downing Street in October 1964. “Sorry to leave it in such a mess.” Eighteen
months before the election, Maudling had cut taxes by £260m as part of his
“dash for growth”. The voters spent his giveaway on foreign imports. Sounds
familiar?
According to Bentley’s second law of economics – nobody knows his first one –
the only thing more dangerous than an economist is an amateur economist. So
I merely point out that, despite talk of “consensus”, disagreements about
the effects of a fiscal stimulus are legion. Some economists believe tax
cuts will be greeted with incredulity by the money markets. Sterling had
already tanked before Osborne accused the prime minister in The Times
yesterday of risking a run on the pound. Without a credible promise that
either taxes will eventually rise or there will be large public spending
cuts, foreigners may indeed be reluctant to buy our IOUs.
Others think any stimulus below a value of 1% or even 2% of GDP (£15 billion
or £30 billion) won’t have much effect anyway. More still believe we should
cut interest rates to American levels (1%) before the state arrives at the
expedient of throwing cash out of helicopters at the people below.
Alistair Darling will unveil his prebudget report in eight days’ time. The
merits and size of a temporary giveaway to the working poor (who are
presumed to spend the money quickly instead of saving it) are still being
hotly debated. Increased tax credits, immediate cuts in Vat or lifting
900,000 of the low-paid out of tax altogether are some of the choices before
him. The debate between the Treasury and No 10 over the size of a stimulus
package will be interesting. The cautious chancellor is growing in
confidence. His boss is becoming a bit too confident. Both fear the success
of any stimulus depends on foreign countries following suit. Otherwise
British taxpayers may spend the windfall on foreign goods while foreigners
have no cash to buy ours.
The prime minister points out that Britain has a lower level of state debt
than Germany, France or Japan. Alas, those figures ignore our liabilities
for state pensions and other multi-billion-pound debts craftily kept off the
books. They also ignore the soaring trend in growth of the deficit before
the down-turn even kicked in. All the same, looking for leadership rather
than empathy in recession, the voters are turning back to Labour.
Cameron, like Blair before him, instinctively gets moments of national
tragedy, but he and Osborne need to display greater confidence in the
handling of the economy. The Tory duo hope their gamble on stern fiscal
conservatism will plug this credibility gap. It may lose them short-term
popularity but over the long haul they hope to win the voters’ trust for a
consistency and prudence that Brown has abandoned. A big gamble. A critical
right wing press, however, will demand more explicit promises of big cuts in
public spending.
It will be a remarkable transformation for the usually sunny Cameron and
Osborne to turn to unbending rectitude. As remarkable, perhaps, as the
strange case of Dr Gordon and Mr Brown.
