Beware, Boris, Britain is hurtling towards a winter of discontent

Soaring inflation, spiralling public debt and stroppy trade unions have created the perfect storm

The August bank holiday is behind us and summer is all but over. With many schools back tomorrow and Parliament returning next week, September represents new beginnings, a time to consider what lies ahead – for the Government and the UK as a whole.

It strikes me that Britain, both economically and politically, is at a turning point not dissimilar to that of the mid-1970s. Inflation is rising and government debt spiralling, with society becoming more fractious. Shoppers and businesses regularly complain of shortages – a throwback to my early youth.

Workers are demanding higher wages, backed in some cases by increasingly stroppy trade unions, just as we saw in the 1970s. There are geopolitical echoes, too, as Britain recasts relations with Europe after a historic referendum and the US stages a humiliating retreat – this time from Afghanistan rather than Vietnam.

It’s worth remembering, amid these parallels, that Britain’s 1970s malaise, a time of chronic uncertainty, culminated in the 1978/79 “winter of discontent”. A combination of soaring prices, intensifying strike action and a breakdown of vital public services sparked a radical political reset, embodied by Margaret Thatcher.

There are key differences between the second half of the 1970s and now, of course – not least that Labour was then in government, and now, we’ve just endured a global pandemic.

But the similarities are eerie and should serve as a warning to the Prime Minister of just how quickly the economic and political tide can shift and the electorate’s patience can snap.

Back in the 1970s, inflation accelerated to over 20 per cent. This year annual inflation surged from 0.4 per cent in February to 2.5 per cent in June. The latest data shows factory input costs 10 per cent higher than in July 2020, the sharpest rise in a decade, pointing to supply-chain constraints and more inflation to come.

Having downplayed price pressures for months, the Bank of England this month acknowledged inflation could hit an annual rate of 4 per cent by the end of 2021 – also a 10-year high.

And, contrary to what policymakers claim, while recent inflation in part reflects lockdown, as previously shuttered producers struggle to get back up to speed, it is by no means clear that inflation will be “transitory”.

Wages soared no less than 7.4 per cent between April and June, generating prolonged price pressures as companies passed on costs to consumers. In many ways, the labour market situation is less serious than during the 1970s – when trade unions were often militant and counted over half the workforce as members, compared with less than a quarter now.

Yet consider how, during lockdown, increasingly strident teaching and medical unions have pushed to dictate government policy. Some teachers and doctors have, of course, acted heroically. But others haven’t – and union leaders, in particular, have often been unreasonable and politically opportunistic.

During this Covid crisis, the share of face-to-face GP consultations has fallen from over 80 per cent to under half in some regions. Millions of patients have failed to secure inperson appointments, with lifethreatening conditions undiagnosed.

Over the coming months, the full horror of the record five million-plus NHS waiting list will become apparent. This winter, countless doctors could still be stalling on face-to-face consultations, at the same time as teaching unions – hooked on zero-covid zealotry and a desire to shame the Government – are busy up-ending a third successive school year.

“Who Governs Britain?” was Edward Heath’s campaign slogan when he failed to gain re-election in 1974. “I’m all right, Jack” was a common phrase of the same era, describing the selfishness of self-serving union bosses, seemingly oblivious to public suffering.

These days, the most militant union leaders seem to wear white collars rather than blue – and if they overplay their hands over the coming months, they could yet usher in a renewed “winter of discontent”.

And with the UK’S biggest union, Unite, last week electing the preferred choice of Labour’s Trotskyist fringe as general secretary, with Keir Starmer’s more moderate candidate coming third, broader industrial relations could soon become more spiky.

As the nights draw in, there are two big question marks hanging over the UK economy. Headline unemployment is officially just 4.7 per cent, yet that definition requires the jobless to be “actively looking for work”, which hasn’t always been easy to clarify during lockdown. The share of the workforce claiming unemployment-related benefits is closer to 6 per cent – a rather more worrying number.

On top of that, almost two million people – a further 6 per cent of the workforce – remain on furlough, a scheme due to be wound up completely at the end of September. No one knows how many furloughed workers will end up unemployed – but surveys of industry bosses suggest it could be a considerable share. And many of the UK’S job vacancies are in different regions and sectors than those furloughed. Unemployment could therefore yet spike this winter – another 1970s throwback, which could convulse British politics.

Then there’s the even more fundamental question of broader economic stability. The budget deficits this Conservative Government has run during this pandemic make Labour ministers of the 1970s look like paragons of virtue. While lockdown perhaps made such profligacy inevitable, there is almost no sign – at all – that the Prime Minister understands the need to get our public finances under control.

Instead, to an even greater extent than during the 1970s, the majority of Tory ministers, to say nothing of Bank of England officials, seem to have convinced themselves the UK can simply carry on with “quantitative easing” – money-printing in all but name.

I’m a naturally optimistic person. I have huge faith in the entrepreneurial dynamism of the British people. Yet, as the season turns and the shadows lengthen, I have precious little faith in the quality of the UK’S post-lockdown leadership.