I hate to admit it, but Liz Truss may be on to something. When the former prime minister began her ill-starred comeback tour she placed the blame for the disaster that befell her policies on resistance from the Very Powerful Economic Establishment. Many have mocked, but in the days since I have had to reflect, the Trusster might have a point.
I now realise that the forces that undermined her obviously flawless economic policies are the same ones which have frustrated a number of my personal goals. For example, the Very Powerful Economic Establishment has stopped me from buying a huge house in Belgravia. I had explained that what I now needed was a mansion that took my status to the next level. It would include an underground swimming pool, a roof terrace overlooking Hyde Park and a garden large enough to invite round all the neighbouring oligarchs. The pool, roof terrace and — oh, did I mention the indoor cinema and gaming rooms? — had won the support of all members of the family.
Yet, even with this unanimous backing, the Very Powerful Economic Establishment refused to recognise my mandate, insisting that I could not afford the house and refusing to grant a mortgage secured against my semi-detached with unparalleled views of a major arterial road. It is doubly frustrating, because – as Truss noted – the Very Powerful Economic Establishment is linked to a wrongheaded Economic Orthodoxy which prioritises its evidence against our opinions.
The VPEE has also blocked my attempts to buy a Lamborghini Aventador, pointing out both that it was too expensive and that I would look like a sad old pillock driving it. When I challenged the VPEE on this latter point, it explained that it has been leveraging its orthodox brand into style advice. Yet it is patently declinist orthodoxy to insist that short, fat, ageing men shouldn’t drive sports cars.
It is not just Liz Truss and me who are feeling the dead hand of the VPEE. Across Britain and, more specifically, in our own household, it prevents people from realising their potential. The girl, for example, has been unable to upgrade her laptop on the grounds of not having the money. She is now left languishing down the leagues of internationally competitive students and embedding productivity issues that come from having to reboot at least once a day. She did offer to pay us back if we lent her the money, but the market for her securities has softened of late in the face of a couple of debt reschedulings.
Faced with this threat to her output and self-image, it was suggested to the girl by the Very Powerful Economic Establishment that she might like to get a holiday job. This insistence on putting in the hard yards may have some long-term validity but it failed to appreciate her desire for action now. Her competitors will not wait for her, especially on Minecraft or The Last of Us. The girl has now penned a 4,000-word missive explaining that we need to respect her mandate and complaining that the VPEE is also delaying the productivity gains of a new pair of Converse sneakers.
The boy too is feeling the straitjacket of fiscal orthodoxy after the VPEE noticed that he was topping up our online grocery order with food he could pre-prepare and take to work, thereby saving the cost of buying himself lunch. At one level we respected his efforts to live within his means, but we were less sure about his commitment to living within ours. Proof that you cannot buck the markets followed when the Very Powerful Economic Establishment changed its Ocado password.
Meanwhile our neighbour had to scrap his plans for a month-long Caribbean cruise, although the VPEE did permit five days skiing in Chamonix over half-term.
The key point is that the Very Powerful Economic Establishment and its sister service, the Forces of Powerful Economic Orthodoxy, are becoming a serious pain in the arse. We must now watch ourselves falling down the league of neighbourhood competitiveness as other households get flash cars, loft extensions and cellar conversions. Not only is the VPEE holding back Britain, it is seriously cramping our style.
Follow Robert on Twitter @robertshrimsley and email him at robert.shrimsley@ft.com
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