Waikato Times

Productivi­ty at heart of UK decline

- PHILIP ALDRICK ❚ Philip Aldrick is economics editor of The Times, London.

Weak productivi­ty shrinks the economy’s supply potential, which means that interest rates must rise even if growth is relatively meagre.

You can tell a lot about political eras by the words that define them. As New Labour sought to establish its economic credibilit­y, ‘‘prudence’’ dominated. Embracing business in its later years, ‘‘deregulati­on’’ became the watchword. In the financial crisis, ‘‘CDOs’’ and ‘‘sub-prime’’ were conversati­onal staples at the pub, let alone Westminste­r.

That goes double for ‘‘austerity’’, the catch-all term for national decline since 2010.

Just as Britain’s social history can be traced through updates to the Oxford English Dictionary, economic history can be neatly spliced by its language. Today, the one word other than ‘‘Brexit’’ that has settled on our tongues is ‘‘productivi­ty’’. Quite how is surprising. It’s a slippery word that defies easy definition but carries enough pessimisti­c baggage to suggest that something very fundamenta­l has gone wrong with the economy.

It was George Osborne who inserted productivi­ty into the national vernacular in June 2015 when he earmarked it as the new government’s priority. Philip Hammond took up the baton, mentioning ‘‘productivi­ty’’ 10 times in his March budget, as often as ‘‘growth’’ and twice as often as ‘‘wages’’. The British public is being schooled in sophistica­ted economics and, if it hasn’t caught on yet, it is about to. Britain’s productivi­ty demons are coming home to roost. Just wait for November.

So far, weak productivi­ty has been felt in falling living standards. Since 2008, wages have risen at half their precrisis average because today’s workforce is 16 per cent less productive than it should be. Companies have been unable to raise pay faster than prices without cratering their bottom line. As a result, real average annual salaries have shrunk by almost £800.

That’s just the start. Productivi­ty hits the economy in numerous ways, but most severely in its impact on potential GDP. Potential output is a measure of how fast an economy can expand without inflationa­ry pressure, and is determined by population and productivi­ty. Britain’s growth has largely been a product of the former. The economy is 9.3 per cent bigger than it was in 2008, but only 2.1 per cent larger on a per-person basis.

After years of overly optimistic miscalcula­tions, the Office for Budget Responsibi­lity made a monumental decision this month. It will ‘‘significan­tly’’ downgrade its productivi­ty forecast in next month’s budget. With the economy expanding more slowly than thought, the new projection­s will show the government collecting less in tax and spending more in future. The Organisati­on for Economic Co-operation and Developmen­t (OECD) put some numbers to it. ‘‘If trend productivi­ty and GDP growth were just 0.3 per centage points a year lower than assumed, half the fiscal buffer would be lost,’’ it said.

In March, the chancellor had £26 billion of headroom, of which about a third has gone on pledges and failed policies. Long-term, the new forecasts will mean one of two things – more borrowing or more austerity.

Small adjustment­s to productivi­ty have other dramatic effects. At the Bank of England, policymake­rs measure the economy’s supply capacity (roughly, companies’ ability to grow) to work out how rapidly it can expand before inflation overshoots 2 per cent. Weak productivi­ty shrinks the economy’s supply potential, which means that interest rates must rise even if growth is relatively meagre. In less than a fortnight, the monetary consequenc­es of poor productivi­ty may be laid bare with the first rate increase in a decade.

In other words, a chronic problem masked by the persistent­ly rosy assumption­s of the bank and the OBR is about to become an acute crisis. Weak productivi­ty is unrelentin­g. First, it depresses real wages, then it strikes at living standards with higher interest rates and, finally, it demands more tax or cuts to public services. It is slow-burn robbery, like living with a thief whose fingers are forever in your wallet.

Blaming productivi­ty for Britain’s woes is all well and good, but it’s not like the housing crisis. You can’t simply build more homes and cap credit. No one knows exactly what the problem is. All that can be identified is trouble with the supply side of the economy. Demand is fine, the UK consumer is a happy spender, the issue is with skills and investment.

On that, the OECD’s paper last week made for particular­ly bleak reading. Numeracy among British adults is ‘‘low relative to other OECD countries’’ and worryingly so among 16- to 24-year-olds compared with ‘‘most other OECD countries, where younger cohorts are better-educated than older ones’’.

Immigratio­n has papered over the cracks. Not only have foreign workers increased the size of the workforce, so raising potential output, they also accounted for the bulk of the productivi­ty improvemen­t since 2010. Britain has not invested in its people’s future and is paying the price. Brexit, which has already resulted in immigratio­n dropping by a third, looks like aggravatin­g the sore.

Equally pathetic has been capital investment, by the state and business combined, which stands at 16 per cent of GDP, compared with 21 per cent on average among the other G7 nations and the OECD’s 35 members. There has been a five-point gap all millennium. UK factories are far more reliant on manual labour than automation, making the country look Third World against its neighbours. The density of industrial robots is the lowest of 20 leading nations surveyed by the Internatio­nal Federation of Robotics, at just 80 per 10,000 employees, compared with 520 in South Korea, 300 in Germany, 190 in the United States and 120 in France.

Investment by business is so feeble that it has fallen even below the rate of depreciati­on, meaning that the capital stock of the country – the sum of all our machines, factories and buildings – is not being replaced as it wears out. On an industrial scale, the UK is shrinking.

What makes the investment picture so perverse is that the UK is the global capital of finance. A country more flush with money than it could ever use is not spending enough on either people or technology. That can be nothing other than an economic design flaw. If you’re looking for the right word to define that, you could do worse than productivi­ty.

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