Tag Archives: politics

The magic money tree

On Question Time this weekend, Theresa May was confronted by a nurse whose pay has been squeezed under the Coalition and Conservative governments. Her response to the nurse’s complaints was that “there isn’t a magic money tree that we can shake that suddenly provides for everything that people want”. Theresa May is of course right. There is, as far as we know, not a magic money tree. However, I fear that as an explanation for why nurses can’t have a pay rise, her statement is lacking.

That is not to say that there is no link between magic money trees and nurses’ pay. If there were indeed a magic money tree, then its harvest could surely be used to pay nurses more[1]. The absence of such a tree is a necessary condition for it being impossible to pay nurses more – but it is not sufficient. The reason for this is that there are types of money that are not magical and do not grow on trees. In failing to address the availability of this more mundane form of money, Theresa May has, not for the first time, not really answered the question.

A more charitable interpretation of Theresa May’s statement is that she is trying to argue that we can’t afford to increase government spending above current levels. Government spending is financed by taxes or debt, which must be repaid from future taxes, so the ability of a government to afford a given level of spending is dependent on its ability to raise taxes. One reason that some developing countries struggle to fund public services such as health care is that they have weak public institutions and so can’t raise taxes very effectively. The UK and most other rich countries are much better at collecting taxes and have larger public sectors. But their scope for public spending is not unlimited, for two reasons: high taxes and a large public sector might have a distortionary effect on the economy, discouraging economic activity and squeezing out the private sector; or democratic processes might limit the size of the state by voting out governments that raise taxes.

This is all very complicated and hotly disputed, but one way to understand whether the UK could conceivable have higher public spending is to look at how we compare to other countries. The chart below (based on OECD data) compares public spending as a share of GDP with GDP per capita, for all OECD countries where data is available[2].

On both measures, we are roughly in the middle. GDP per capita in the UK is about the same as Japan, France and Finland, higher than Spain and Italy, and a fair bit lower than most other Western European countries. Public spending (as a share of GDP) is lower than in most Western European Countries, but higher than Japan, Australia or the US.

It is also fairly clear that, as far as this dataset goes, there is no relationship between the two variables. Sweden, Austria and Denmark have much higher public spending than the UK, but this doesn’t stop them having much higher economic output. On the other hand, Australia and the US manage higher economic output with lower public spending. It seems that (within the range of this chart) pretty much any combination is possible. Of course, this doesn’t prove that higher taxes wouldn’t be bad for the UK economy. Perhaps our economy is so fragile that it would be crippled by any tax rises. But if you are going to argue this you are going to have to convince me that it is impossible for us to achieve what much of the rest of Western Europe can.

The political question is more difficult to analyse. Yes, other countries have larger public sectors, but they also have different political cultures. Perhaps the British are fundamentally different to our European neighbours and would simply not stand for the tax rises that are required to finance better health care and pay rises for nurses. Perhaps we are and will always remain a low tax country.

I don’t have a strong opinion on the optimal size of government, but I do wish we could have an honest debate about it. When someone says “we can’t afford it”, we need to be clear that this is nonsense. What they are really saying is that they do not think that we should raise the taxes required to pay for it. This is a debate that we need to have, but saying “we can’t afford it” is not the way to go about it.

The phrase “magic money tree” is even worse: it is designed to ridicule the suggestion that public spending should be increased. A nurse asking for a pay rise is as stupid as someone who believes that money grows on magical trees. Repeating this phrase whenever anyone suggests spending public money on something is not only nonsensical but frankly offensive.

 


[1] This statement is not the main point of this post and I don’t want to hear from any macro-economists about the inflationary effects of magic money trees.

[2] Excluding Ireland and Luxembourg, whose results are heavily distorted by their role as tax havens.

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Austerity and Brexit in England

Ever since the UK voted to leave the EU, there has been a steady stream of articles and analysis trying to figure out why. Clearly there is more than one answer: different people voted for Brexit for different reasons. Nonetheless there are some patterns. By analysing the vote share by local authority, the Resolution Foundation found that areas with higher employment rates, larger student populations, more people with degrees and higher social cohesion were more likely to vote remain. Areas with more old people, more homeowners and those that have only recently seen an increase in immigration were more likely to vote leave.

But one possibility has proved controversial: was austerity partly responsible? Chris Dillow thinks it’s possible. Austerity contributed to stagnant incomes, which may have increased resentment towards “elites”, and to a decline in public services which the leave campaign blamed on immigration. Chris’ thesis received a bit of stick on Twitter from Giles Wilkes and Rupert Harrison.

In one sense, they have a point. The Resolution Foundation’s analysis looked at how average incomes in different areas were related to the share of votes for leave. While the level of income was important, recent changes were not, suggesting that the income effect isn’t related to austerity. But in another way Chris might be right. Stagnating incomes may be an indirect effect of austerity, but a rather more direct effect (which is not included in the Resolution Foundation’s analysis) is the deterioration in public services.

Austerity has led to cuts in many public services, but local councils – who take out the bins, run the libraries and provide social care – have been hit particularly hard. Local government spending power[i] in England fell by nearly 15% in real terms between 2011/12 and 2015/16, but the impact wasn’t felt equally in all parts of the country. Areas that collect a lot of council tax relative to their total spending got off lightly – Surrey’s spending power fell by less than 5% in real terms – while those that rely heavily on central government grants have been hammered – Liverpool City Council’s spending power fell by nearly 23%.

Big drops in spending power mean closing libraries, fewer bin collections and cuts to social care. It seems plausible that in areas where public services have deteriorated further, the argument that immigrants are overwhelming these services – as championed by the Faragist wing of the leave campaign – may have more traction.

The chart below shows how changes in spending power in local authorities in England[ii] between 2011/12 and 2015/16 are related to the share of votes cast for leave.

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England

You might look at this and think there is no clear correlation – but the distribution is far from random. It looks to me like there are two things going on: a negative correlation for most areas, plus a cluster at the bottom left that seems to behave differently. There are no prizes for guessing where most of these outliers are located: they are London boroughs.

The next chart shows the same data with inner (blue) and outer (red) London boroughs highlighted. London voted differently to the rest of the country. Inner London (and some “outer London” boroughs such as Newham) saw big cuts in local government spending, but voted overwhelmingly for remain.

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England
Blue dots are inner London boroughs, red dots outer London

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England

Not all London boroughs followed this pattern. Havering had a relatively small drop in local government spending, but voted heavily for leave. This shows the limitations of using “London boroughs” as a sociological grouping. Havering is the most easterly London borough and surrounded on three sides by Essex. It is just a half hour’s drive from Newham, but a very different place.

Just as not all of London followed a “London-like” voting pattern, not all other areas followed an “unLondon” voting pattern. If we exclude London from the chart, there are still a few stray dots hanging around in that bottom left area – areas that, like many parts of London, voted remain despite large council cuts. Again, there are no prizes for guessing where these places are: successful cities like Liverpool, Manchester, Bristol and Brighton.

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England excluding London

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in England excluding London

So it seems that we can divide England up into two groups: “London-like” areas, which include most London boroughs and some other successful cities; and “unLondon”, which is everyone else. Many London-like areas have seen big cuts to local services and still voted remain. But when we look only at unLondon[iii], we see a different pattern: areas with bigger cuts to local services cast a greater proportion of votes for leave.

On the basis of this, it seems quite plausible[iv] that austerity was one of the drivers of the Brexit vote – but this effect was mediated by cuts to local services, rather than stagnating incomes.

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in unLondon

Change in local government spending power (horizontal axis) versus share of votes case for leave, upper-tier local authorities in unLondon


[i] Calculating trends in council funding is tricky, because responsibilities of councils change year-to-year. When responsibilities are added, extra money might be attached to them but this doesn’t ease the pressure on other services. Luckily, the Department for Communities and Local Government publishesspending powerestimates which (for any two adjacent years) try to take account of these changes. By cumulating the year-on-year changes, and adjusting for inflation, we can get a reasonable estimate of the changes over time in funding for local services.

[ii] The data are for upper-tier authorities. For two-tier areas (the shire counties) the spending power of the districts within each county has been included to make the figures comparable with unitary authorities.

[iii] For the purposes of this analysis, only Liverpool, Manchester, Brighton and Bristol have been excluded from unLondon, since they are the most obvious outliers.

[iv] There are two important caveats here. First, to believe in this correlation, you have to believe that the London/unLondon split makes sense and isn’t just a convenient choice to generate a spurious correlation. For me, the story works, but you will make up your own mind. Second, this analysis only looks at one variable, so it’s possible that the pattern is actually driven by something else, such as difference in average incomes. The Resolution Foundation’s work deals with this problem by including a wide range of variables – but nothing on cuts to local services. I’d like to see them add this to their analysis.

The problem with professional politicians

Isabel Hardman asks what’s so bad about professional politicians. She concludes that it’s basically a euphemism for “selfish politicians who are out for themselves and will mow down anyone in their way”. I’d offer a different (and perhaps slightly more contrived) answer: the problem with professional politicians is the same as the problem with professional footballers and professional bankers – they have become too good at their jobs.

This is a problem because all three groups are employed to do something that is not quite the same as the purpose that they serve in society. They operate within a set of rules and structures that are supposed to ensure that by striving to do one thing (the direct aim of their job) they also achieve another.

Take footballers for starters. A footballer, or a football manager, is paid to win matches. If they’re good at it, riches and fame are theirs, if not, they end up on the losing side away at Exeter on a rainy Saturday in February. But the purpose of professional footballers is to provide people with entertainment. Usually, the spectacle of two highly-skilled teams putting everything on the line to win is entertaining. But footballers have worked out at least two ways to improve their chances of winning that aren’t.

The first is diving. It is in the interest of footballers to fall over whenever they are touched by an opposition player, especially in the penalty area. It’s very difficult for referees to know whether a person fell over too easily or not, and winning a penalty or getting an opposing player sent off can win you the game. But diving detracts from our entertainment when, rather than try to win by playing good football, Diego Costa or Ashley Young simply flings himself to the ground to try to con the referee. We see a similar thing when Jose Mourinho, a man who knows more than most about winning football matches, parks the bus when playing away against strong opposition. This clearly works, but it is not great to watch.

Investment bankers are employed to make as much money as possible. But their social purpose – and the reason that they are allowed to occupy such privileged positions within our economic system, with such huge potential for rent extraction – is to distribute financial investment efficiently throughout the economy. In principle, the joint disciplines of market forces and financial regulation should ensure that in trying to maximise profit they achieve this aim. But in recent years, bankers have come up with a range of ways to make stacks of money that avoid or even undermine this aim, such as packaging up mortgage debt in securities so complicated that the buyer fails to see the inherent risks. The results of this are plain to see: a massive global financial crisis that is still being felt more than half a decade later.

So what about politicians? The job of a politician is to win elections, but the purpose of politicians as a whole is to effectively manage the public affairs of a country in such a way as to improve the welfare of its citizens. Our democratic system, political institutions and free press are supposed to ensure that in order to win (or at least retain) power, politicians have to run the country fairly competently. But the last two decades have seen this diminish in importance relative to spin and soundbites.

This has reached its zenith with George Osborne, a chancellor whose primary occupation seems to be not running the economy, but trying to make the Labour Party look stupid. This doesn’t make much of a contribution to the welfare of British citizens, but it does seem to work. The Chancellor has managed to convince most voters that he is the one with the reliable economic plan, despite presiding over an economic disaster. George Osborne appears to be very good as his job, but very bad at fulfilling his purpose.

The public is at least loosely aware of this problem and this is part of the reason for Jeremy Corbyn’s popularity among Labour Party members. Here is a politician who seems to be focusing on fulfilling what he sees as the purpose of politics: to deliver his vision of better country. But this is no use if – as many in the Labour Party fear – in doing so he will fail to do his job, which is likely soon to be getting elected as Prime Minister.

If you’re a footballer and someone else wins more penalties than you, you could be stuck on the bench and unable to do anything to make the game more entertaining. If you’re an investment banker who refuses to make a profit at the expense of the rest of society, you might lose your job and become powerless to improve the morality of investment banking. And if Corbyn can’t compromise his ideals to win popularity with the press and the public, he may never be able to act on those ideals as Prime Minister.

In short, it’s not possible for one footballer, banker or politician to unilaterally reject this type of behaviour while the system rewards it. If we want to see changes, we need to fix the systems and incentives under which they operate. It is tempting to say that the answer is better rules and better enforcement, but there are reasons to be pessimistic that this will happen.

Video technology and retrospective bans for diving could make a huge difference in football. But unfortunately world football is run by a bunch of crooks and Mafioso who do little to improve the game and much to enrich themselves.

Breaking up the big banks so that they can be allowed to fail and the risk is not borne by the rest of society could change the behaviour of bankers, or at least ensure that they feel (to some degree) its consequences. But if a massive global financial crisis isn’t sufficient incentive for governments to do this, then what is?

The issue of politicians is perhaps more difficult, as there is no regulator that has power above that of Parliament. The role of keeping politicians in check and ensuring that they can’t get away with flimsy or misleading statements falls mostly to the press. But, either through partisan cheerleading or a preference for scare stories and embarrassing photos over policy and substance, it does not always do a good job of this.

Political parties are a crucial part of British democracy. Are they accountable enough?

With the Labour leadership contest almost upon us, it is looking ever more likely that Jeremy Corbyn will win. As the odds on a Corbyn leadership shorten, so the howls of anguish from centre-left commentators increase. My Twitter feed is almost unanimous on this: a Corbyn victory would make Labour unelectable and guarantee at least another decade of Tory government.

But why should this be the case? Jeremy Corbyn is, of course, tremendously popular. The latest polls show that 53% of Labour party members are planning to vote for him as their first preference, and that he would easily win a run-off against either Andy Burnham or Yvette Cooper.

The problem may be that Corbyn is too popular with party members. That is, he is giving them what they want – a kind of intra-party populism – rather than trying to sell to them a platform that he thinks can win an election. A successful modern politician, it seems, must make tough choices and compromises, between her ideals (and those of her party members) and what she think the rest of the voting public wants. Populism only works if applied to a sufficiently large number of voters.

In a democracy, compromise is essential. Different sections of the population have different preferences and one group can rarely have everything it wants. But the way in which a democracy is administered determines how and where these compromises are made.

In countries with proportional voting systems, people can (in principle) vote for the party that best represents their beliefs. The parties win seats in parliament according to the number of votes they receive, and will then begin the process of thrashing out a compromise and forming a government. Compromises are reached within the democratic institution of a parliament, through negotiations between elected members who represent the various viewpoints of the population.

In the UK, with our first-past-the-post voting system, it doesn’t usually make sense to vote for the party that is best aligned with your beliefs. Just ask the millions of people who voted for the Greens and UKIP earlier this year, for a return of two seats. Instead, the rational approach is generally to vote for whichever of the two main parties has come up with the best-looking compromise.

However, the compromises that we get to choose between are not formed within our public institutions, but within the political parties. The wider electorate doesn’t get a say in these compromises, except insofar as party members try to second guess their preferences in developing an electable platform. As a result, the major parties are themselves crucial parts of the UK’s democratic machinery – yet they carry out their role outside of the institutions that are supposed to govern our democracy.

Now, I don’t mean to argue that a proportional voting system is necessarily a better way of reaching a compromise. In the UK, voters can choose between manifestos that represent complete programmes for government with ready-made compromises, while under PR voters might have to choose their representatives without knowing what compromises they will ultimately make. But in the UK, the messy compromises that are crucial to a democracy are worked out within the two main political parties, whose memberships comprise less than one percent of eligible voters. It seems reasonable to ask whether that is a sufficient level of engagement and accountability for such a central part of our democratic system.

2043: a demographic end to German hegemony

Throughout the recent Eurozone crisis, it has been taken for granted that Germany calls the shots in Europe. The reason for this is that it has by some distance the largest economy – some 40% larger than the economies of the UK and France, the next biggest countries by GDP.

The German economy is big for two reasons. First, there are a lot of people working in Germany: there are around 49 million people aged 20-64, compared to around 38 million in the UK and 37 million in France. Second, as you may have heard, Germany is pretty efficient. Economic output per person aged 20-64 is around $71,000 per year, compared to just $65,000 in the UK and $66,000 in France. That doesn’t make the Germans the most productive people in Europe – Sweden and the Netherlands both produce over $75,000 per year per working age person, but they are much smaller countries.

GDP per worker in large EU economies

But something is happening in Germany that might fundamentally alter the dynamics of the European Union: the population is shrinking. While all developed countries are seeing a rise in the proportion of older people in their populations as life expectancies rise, Germany also has falling birth rates. As the chart below shows, birth rates in France and the UK are expected to remain fairly flat over the next 35 years. But in Germany, the birth rate is projected to tail off dramatically, meaning that as young people age they are not replaced. The result of this is that the working age population will shrink significantly in absolute terms (while it stays roughly the same size in France and grows in the UK).

Demographics in large EU economies

This means that even if Germany retains its productivity advantage over Britain and France, the size of their economies will converge. In fact, if relative productivity remains constant, the UK economy will be larger than the German economy sometime in the early 2040s and France (probably) sometime in the 2050s.

GDP projections for large EU economies

It’s difficult to project what will happen in Europe over the next year, let alone the next 30 years. But, assuming the European Union survives in something like its present form – and assuming the UK remains intact and a part of it – the balance of power in the EU may well shift towards our side of the channel. Something to bear in mind for the upcoming referendum: stay in the EU, wait for 30 years, then we (or our children) will be running the show. What could possibly go wrong?

The aftermath of the UK election might look a bit Canadian

David Cameron’s intention to declare victory tomorrow even if he can’t command a majority of the house, forcing Labour to join forces with the SNP to bring him down, takes us into uncharted territory as far as UK politics goes. But there is a recent international precedent for this situation with some striking similarities.

Canada’s political system is similar to the UK’s in many ways – in fact, it’s modelled on it. They have a House of Commons with 308 members, each representing one electoral district and each elected on a first-past-the-post basis. But in some ways it seems like they are further down the line in terms of the evolution of this system. While the SNP looks set to dominate elections in Scotland for the first time, the Bloc Québécois has been doing it for years in Quebec. And while the UK may be looking ahead to years of minority governments and coalitions, the Canadians have been there for a while now. So it seems that Canada might offer a glimpse of the UK’s future.

And the 2008–09 Canadian parliamentary dispute might offer a glimpse of the UK’s immediate future. Following elections in October 2008, the Conservatives formed a minority government. But when the government tried to table its budget six weeks later, a left-leaning coalition led by the Liberal Party, backed by the Bloc Québécois and the New Democratic Party, signalled its intention to hold a vote of no-confidence and bring down the government.

The coalition commanded a majority in the house and the Conservatives would certainly have lost this vote, so they were keen to avoid it. The Prime Minister approached the Governor General – the Queen’s representative in Canada – to grant a prorogation of parliament. This means shutting down parliament for a period of time without dissolving it (which would trigger new elections), and in this situation it would allow the government to temporarily avoid a vote of no-confidence while they tried to find a way to hold onto power more permanently.

According to Wikipedia, the Governor General granted the request amid concern that if she didn’t, and instead allowed vote of no-confidence to go ahead, then:

the Conservative Party would launch a public campaign painting the new government and, by extension, the actions of the Governor General as illegitimate, creating “a crisis of confidence in Canada’s political system.”

Sound familiar? It gets better. After the prorogation was granted, the Conservative Prime Minister went on TV to address the nation and

outlined the steps the government had taken to address the economic crisis and attacked the Liberals for forming a coalition with the Bloc Québécois. [Prime Minister] Harper said: “at a time of global economic instability, Canada’s government must stand unequivocally for keeping the country together. At a time like this, a coalition with the separatists cannot help Canada. And the opposition does not have the democratic right to impose a coalition with the separatists they promised voters would never happen

Did I hear someone say con trick? I have to say I am finding this a bit spooky, almost like the Tories are modelling their approach on what happened in Canada. And why not? In the end the Liberal Party had a change of leadership during the prorogation and agreed to support the Conservative budget, in exchange for some concessions.

Could a hung parliament in the UK pan out like this? There are a number of differences that suggest it might not be an exact parallel.

First, the Canadian dispute arose six weeks after the election when the Conservatives had already been allowed to form a government and take power. I imagine that the dispute in the UK would be more immediate.

Second, while I am not an expert on these matters, I am not sure that the Queen herself would grant a prorogation in the UK case*. According to the Parliament website:

Queen Victoria prorogued Parliament in person regularly between 1837 and 1854, after which she ceased to attend, allegedly because she disliked the ceremony.

This was the last occasion on which the Sovereign prorogued Parliament or gave the Royal Assent in person, and was also the last time the Speaker made a speech at prorogation.

And third, the Canadian situation was resolved when the main opposition changed its leader and agreed to work with the minority government, which in turn agreed significant concessions in its budget. I find it hard to imagine Labour voting for a Tory budget or the Tories making significant concessions to Labour. But then again, we are heading into uncharted territory.

An afterthought

One final extract from Wikipedia gives us an idea of what Canadians thought about all this. A poll just after the prorogation was granted found that

40% of respondents agreed with the statement “The Conservative party does not deserve to continue in government,” while 35% agreed with “The Conservative party deserves to continue in government,” and 25% were “not sure.” On the question “Should the opposition parties get together and topple the Conservative minority government headed by Stephen Harper?”, 41% responded No, 36% Yes, and 23% not sure. If the government was defeated in a no-confidence vote, 37% of respondents would support a coalition of opposition parties taking power, 32% favoured holding a new election, 7% favoured an accord rather than a coalition among opposition parties, and 24% were not sure.

So Canadians thought (by a slim majority) that the Conservatives shouldn’t be in power, but also thought (by a slim majority) that no one should do anything about it. Although if they did do something about it, they should be allowed to take power without another election. So that’s clear then.


* Although today’s Times takes a different line.

Why lefties shouldn’t vote Green

Chris Dillow is voting for the Green Party and he gives some good reasons for doing do. As he points out:

The Greens are opposed to fiscal austerity. Labour’s promise to “cut the deficit every year” unconditional on the state of the economy is a capitulation to mediamacro deficit obsession. Granted, they might well be insincere in this – but there’s a danger that lies become the truth.

Fair enough. Labour has caved into the nonsense that the government talks on public finances and this alone makes it reasonable to prefer the Greens, even if, as Chris says, some of their policies are questionable and their leader has failed to inspire.

That said, Chris, and I imagine many other people who are planning to vote Green, prefers Labour to the Tories and “very much wants Ed Miliband to be our next PM”. But since he lives in a safe Tory seat his vote won’t affect the number of MPs each party has, so he assumes it won’t affect Miliband’s chance of being PM and he is free to use it to “express [his] disdain for how Labour has kowtowed too much to economic illiteracy and reactionary prejudice”.

But with David Cameron announcing that his intention to  declare victory if he gets the most votes and/or seats – even if he can’t command a majority in the House of Commons – this assumptions looks a little shaky. Cameron’s plan is presumably to force Labour to team up with the SNP to bring him down, then spend the next five years denouncing the Labour government as illegitimate, lacking a mandate and stooges of the Scottish nationalists. Even better, this prospect may be so terrifying to Labour that they bottle it and decide to endure a Tory minority government.

This is a novel strategy to say the least, and sounds almost like an admission of defeat. But while political insiders recognise that this strategy has no constitutional or legal basis, a majority of the public seems to think otherwise. If Cameron (and Tory-supporting sections of the press) can create a strong enough case that he is the only legitimate winner, then Miliband taking office might be an unpopular move.*

This strategy is unlikely to work, though, unless the Tories get both more seats and more votes than Labour. If Labour can respond to Tory claims of legitimacy on the basis of having the most MPs by pointing to their larger share of the popular vote, then the Tory case begins to look weak. And every vote cast for the Greens instead of Labour increases the chances of the Tories getting the largest vote share. Even if this doesn’t affect Miliband’s chances of entering number 10, it could weaken his position once he gets there.

It’s not ideal that we have a voting system in which it is so often rational to vote tactically, rather than for the party you prefer. But given the system we have, lefties like Chris should vote for Labour on Thursday, even if they live in a safe seat.**


* What we are seeing here is the gap between how our voting system actually works and how most people think it works beginning to impinge on reality. We have been brought up on a diet of two-party politics where there is a winner and a loser, and the winner becomes Prime Minister. This time, in part because of the nationalist bias in our electoral system, there will not be a winner – but the public is still looking for one. This allows politicians to play off public opinion against legal and constitutional facts. A system that relies on these sorts of games is one without clear and objective rules, leaving voters confused and disenfranchised. If hung parliaments are going to become the norm in future elections then either our voting system, public opinion or both need to change.

** It goes without saying that potential UKIP voters who prefer Cameron to Miliband should take the same advice and vote Tory, even if they live in a safe seat.


UPDATE: while Cameron’s strategy might be novel to Brits, it is old hat in Canada.