THERE was a poignant political irony in the words chosen by George Osborne, in his Mansion House speech last night, to express where be believes we stand economically.
Some 15 years after New Labour came to power against the optimistic pop background of “Things Can Only Get Better”, the Chancellor, with a straight face, declared that things can only get worse.
Granted, he was referring to the eurozone when he said “things could still get worse before they get better”, but the tone of his remarks to the audience of City grandees implied that the coalition government fears this gloomy prognosis applies not just to Europe but also the UK.
Yet if Mr Osborne struck a downbeat note, that was as nothing compared to the Governor of the Bank of England. Mervyn King painted a bleak picture of the world economy as a much less welcoming environment for the UK’s deficit reduction plans than two years ago. He warned that not only had the eurozone problems escalated to the point where Greece’s exit from the euro was the subject of widespread speculation, but there were ominous signs of a slowing of the economies in China, India and even once-buoyant Brazil.
Given that the Mansion House speech is one of the most important in the political calendar, it was surprising the Chancellor did not offer more than just a doom-laden forecast. Disappointingly, the rest of the speech was largely a repetition of the coalition’s standard defence of its deficit reduction strategy. Why? Perhaps the government simply does not have any new ideas on how to pull the UK economy out of the double-dip recession. For all his defence of the Bank’s low interest rates and quantitative easing, for all his insistence that bringing down the debt has meant the UK has avoided the fate of other countries in being down-graded by ratings agencies, the Chancellor was, in the end, unconvincing.
Here is why. Away from the cossetted gilded finery of the Mansion House people are struggling to cope with the longest economic downturn in living memory. Unemployment is rising, particularly among young people. Businesses are fighting to survive, hoarding cash when they have it rather than investing, laying off staff because of an uncertain future. Workers in the public and private sectors fear for their livelihoods and for their pensions.
It is a matter of grave concern the Chancellor cannot, or will not, recognise this. The evidence his government’s policies are not working are all around him and yet he refuses to consider opposition calls – echoed by many economic experts – to do what other countries, notably America, have done in terms of judicious additional public spending to try to break out of the spiral of depression.
Call it plan B, call it plan Z, the case for a change in policy is overwhelming. Things are bad enough. They cannot be allowed to get any worse.
The bottom line of recycling
In THE “old days”, by which we mean only a few decades ago, nappies were part of what in these modern times might be called a chain of sustainable recycling. Terry nappies were wrapped carefully around babies’ bottoms, removed when the infant had done what infants do, cleaned, washed and used again and again.
Then came the revolution. Clever multinational corporations realised they could end the unpleasant task of, to put it delicately, preparing the Terry nappy for re-use, and the hard labour of the washing and drying. They invented the disposable nappy, every mother and father’s dream. On with the disposable, baby uses it, wheech it off and straight into the bin.
But the mass production of disposables has an unfortunate environmental downside. An inconvenient truth emerged: disposable nappies go in to landfill sites where the plastic does not break down but the, ah, organic material does. They were, it turned out, a threat to the planet.
What should parents concerned about the environment, and governments committed to reducing global warming, do? Going back to Terries was one answer, and some parents have done that. There is, however, now another possibility.
It had long been held that personal hygiene products which used absorbent materials could not be recycled. But there has been a technological development that means disposable nappies can be turned into every-thing from garden benches to roof tiles.
A trial of the scheme is taking place in parts of Scotland, thanks to Zero Waste Scotland. We hope the trials succeed. After all, everyone likes a nappy ending.