On Friday 13 February I had a further meeting with Geoffrey Howe. Alan Walters was also present. The latest forecast for the PSBR was between £13.5 billion and £13.75 billion. The tax increases Geoffrey was proposing would reduce it to something between £11.25 billion and £11.5 billion, but he did not believe it was politically possible to go below £11 billion, and in his view an increase in the basic tax rate had to be ruled out. But Alan argued strongly that the PSBR should be lower still. He told us that a PSBR of, say, £10 billion would be no more deflationary than one of £11 billion because the latter would actually be worse for City expectations and for interest rates. Alan concluded by arguing that we had no alternative but to raise the basic rates of income tax by 1 or 2 per cent.
Alan was the economist. But Geoffrey and I were politicians. Geoffrey rightly observed that introducing what would be represented as a deflationary budget at the time of the deepest recession since the 1930s would be difficult enough; doing so via an increase in the basic rate would make it a political nightmare. I went along with Geoffrey’s judgement about the problems of raising income tax, but I did so without much conviction and as the days went by my unease grew.
When Geoffrey and I had our next budget meeting on 17 February, he said that he too had been having second thoughts. He was now prepared to contemplate a basic rate increase. But his concern was whether it might not be better to raise the basic rate of income tax by 1 per cent and personal allowances by about 10 per cent, thus reducing the burden on people below average earnings. I confirmed that I in turn was prepared to contemplate this, but I also told him that I was coming to the view that it was essential to get the PSBR below £11 billion.
My advisers — Alan Walters, John Hoskyns and David Wolfson — continued to argue for this much lower PSBR with great passion. Keith Joseph also strongly backed this view. Alan, who knew that he could always have access to me more or less when he wished — as in my view any really close adviser should if a prime minister is not to be the prisoner of his (or her) in-tray — came in to my study to have one last attempt to get me to change my mind about the budget. He ran over again the reasons why we could never have lower interest rates — which was what the economy desperately needed — unless we had lower borrowing, which now meant higher taxes. I know today that he went away still believing that I was not persuaded. But the more I wrestled with the problem in my mind, the more accurate his analysis seemed. The budget he was arguing for would be unpopular with the public, mystifying to many of my strongest supporters in the Commons and the country and incomprehensible to those economists still stuck in post-war Keynesian orthodoxy. Its consequences for my administration were unpredictable. Yet I knew in my heart of hearts that there was only one right decision, and that it now had to be made.
Geoffrey Howe and I — without Alan who was engaged on some other business but with Douglas Wass, the Treasury’s Permanent Secretary — met for a further discussion of the budget on the afternoon of Tuesday 24 February. Geoffrey still envisaged a PSBR for 1981–2 of £11.25 billion. I said that I was dismayed by such a figure and that I doubted whether it would be possible to cut interest rates, which we badly needed to do, unless government borrowing was reduced to a figure around £10.5 billion. I said that I was even prepared to accept a penny on the standard rate. In the light of all the taxpayers’ money which had gone to coal and steel there would at least be a clear explanation for this.
Geoffrey argued against a penny on income tax — on which I was not too difficult to persuade for I was horrified at the thought of reversing even some of the progress we had made on bringing down Labour’s tax rates. But he also argued against the need to bring down the PSBR further, and on this last point I was not persuaded at all. We had further inconclusive discussion about alternative ways to raise tax. Time was growing very short. Geoffrey was still prepared to hope for the best as regards the effect of an £11.25 billion PSBR figure on interest rates. But he knew that I just could not accept this. He went away to think further about what should be done.
Early the following morning, Alan came in to see me when I was in the flat packing my hats into boxes for my trip to the United States that afternoon. I told him that I had insisted on the lower PSBR he wanted. But I still did not know quite how Geoffrey would react. Then shortly before I left for America Geoffrey came in to see me. Having consulted his ministerial colleagues in the Treasury that morning he had accepted that we should have a smaller PSBR, below £11 billion. Rather than increase the basic rate of income tax he proposed the less unpopular course of withholding any increase in tax thresholds — though this was still an extraordinarily bold move when inflation remained at 13 per cent. This was the turning point. I was glad that Geoffrey had accepted the argument and I was pleased that he had found a way of increasing tax revenues that did not run counter to our long-term strategy of reversing Labour’s high tax rates. Our budget strategy was now set. And it looked as if we would be able to announce a reduction of 2 per cent in MLR in the budget the following Tuesday.
There was one other change announced in the budget, apparently technical but of great significance: the change to planning public expenditure in cash rather than what were called ‘volume’ terms. Each minister would be given a cash budget within which to keep his expenditure. Since the spring of 1980 we had been considering how this should be done and I discussed it with Geoffrey Howe and others in the Treasury over lunch there on 28 January 1981. It would have seemed distinctly odd to any company finance director, or housewife for that matter, how the government in those days used to work out its annual expenditure. The Chancellor would make his assessment of government revenue in cash, but spending decisions were made in terms of the volume of services it was desired to deliver, and denominated in what commentators used to call ‘funny money’ — neither the prices at the time of the spending decision, nor those when the money was actually spent. The result was that the Treasury never knew until far too late in the day the cash consequences of decisions on spending. Cash limits on some government spending had already been introduced, but paradoxically, this increased the confusion as spending which had been planned in volume ran up against them. From now on everything was to be planned in cash — though, of course, departments would still have to estimate the volume of services which their cash limits would enable them to afford. This imposed the sort of financial discipline on government departments with which the private sector had to deal. The ‘cash limits’ approach had the valuable consequence of bearing down on real public expenditure. It also gave departments a much stronger interest in seeking out the most efficient way of delivering the services expected of them.
Unsurprisingly, however, it was not the adoption of cash planning which grabbed the budget headlines, but rather the severity of the tax increases. The budget was very unpopular. But some of the leader columns were more favourable than the headlines and no one could doubt that this was a coherent budget which had required a good deal of courage to introduce. In the eyes of our critics, of course, the strategy was fundamentally wrong. If you believed, as they did, that increased government borrowing was the way to get out of recession, then our approach was inexplicable. If, on the other hand, you thought, as we did, that the way to get industry moving again was above all to get down interest rates, then you had to reduce government borrowing. Far from being deflationary, our budget would have the reverse effect: by cutting government borrowing and over time easing the monetary squeeze, it would allow interest rates and the exchange rate to fall, both of which had created severe difficulties for industry. I doubt that there has ever been a clearer test of two fundamentally different approaches to economic management.
The economists themselves realized that this was so. At the end of March 1981 no fewer than 364 leading members of the profession published a statement taking issue with our policy. Samuel Brittan of the Financial Times defended us, and so did Professor Patrick Minford from Liverpool University, who wrote to The Times answe
ring the 364; I in turn wrote to congratulate him on his brilliant defence of the Government’s approach. We had made our decision: the task now was to hold the political line and, where possible, to win the political argument while waiting for the strategy to work. I was confident that it would.
The dissenters in the Cabinet, meanwhile, had been stunned by the budget when they learnt its contents at the traditional morning Cabinet on budget day. The press was soon full of leaks expressing their fury and frustration. They knew that the budget gave them a political opportunity. Because it departed so radically from post-war economic orthodoxy, even some of our supporters would not wholly believe in the strategy until it started to yield results. That might not be for some time. So it was clear that the Party in the country must be mobilized in support of what we were doing. The forthcoming Central Council of the Conservative Party in Bournemouth provided an opportunity for me to do this. I had decided some time before that I would try not to go to every Central Council because the number of party political occasions I was under pressure to address each year was enormous: there were separate conferences of the English, Scottish and Welsh parties, the Women’s Conference, Local Government Conference and Conferences of Young Conservatives, Conservative Students and Conservative Trade Unionists. However, I soon learnt that Central Council provided an opportunity which I could never afford to miss. Certainly that was true on this occasion. John Hoskyns and I worked late on Friday night and early into Saturday morning on my speech, which I delivered later that day. In it I threw down the challenge:
In the past our people have made sacrifices, only to find at the eleventh hour their government had lost its nerve and the sacrifice had been in vain. It shall not be in vain this time. This Conservative Government, not yet two years in office, will hold fast until the future of our country is assured. I do not greatly care what people say about me: I do greatly care what people think about our country. Let us, then, keep calm and strong, and let us preserve that mutual friendship in which patriotism consists. This is the road I am resolved to follow. This is the path I must go. I ask all who have the spirit — the bold, the steadfast and the young in heart — to stand and join with me as we go forward. For there is no other company in which I would travel.
I got a good reception. For the moment at least, the Party faithful were prepared to take the heat and to back the Government. But that determination might erode over the summer unless the Government stuck together.
THE COAL STRIKE WHICH NEVER WAS
Thankfully, strikes occupied far less of our time during 1981 than they had in 1980, and the number of working days lost due to strike action was only a third of that in the previous year. But two disputes — one in the coal industry, which did not in the end result in a strike, and another in the civil service, which did[33] — were of great importance, both to budget decisions and to the overall political climate.
A foreigner unaware of the extraordinary legacy of state socialism in Britain would probably have found the threatened miners’ strike in January 1981 quite incomprehensible: £2.5 billion of taxpayers’ money had been invested in the coal industry since 1974; productivity at some of the new pits was high, and a slimmed-down and competitive coal industry could have provided employees with good, well-paid jobs. But this was possible only if uneconomic pits were closed, which the National Coal Board (NCB) wished to do. Moreover, the pits which the NCB was intent on closing in a programme it put forward in early 1981 were not just uneconomic but more or less exhausted. On 27 January the Energy Secretary, David Howell, told me about the closure plans. The following afternoon Sir Derek Ezra, NCB Chairman, visited Downing Street and briefed me in person. I agreed with him that with coal stocks piling up and the recession continuing there was no alternative to speeding up the closure of uneconomic pits. I had long regretted that past governments had made such an enormous commitment to coal: if we had spent more on nuclear power, as the French had done, our electricity would have been cheaper — and, indeed, our supplies more secure.
As in the cases of BSC and BL, it was the management which had to implement the agreed approach and, inevitably, the Government found itself dragged into a crisis we had neither sought nor predicted. The press was soon full of NCB plans to close 50 pits and a bitter conflict was predicted. The National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) was pledged to fight closures and although Joe Gormley, its President, was a moderate, the powerful left-wing faction of the union was bound to exploit the situation and it was well known that Arthur Scargill, the hard-left leader, was likely to succeed Mr Gormley as President in the near future.
At a meeting with the NUM on 11 February the NCB Board resisted pressure to publish a list of pits which it was proposing to close and denied the figure of 50. However, the Board failed to mention the idea of improved redundancy terms, which was already being discussed by the Government, and instead undertook to join the NUM in an approach to us seeking a lower level of coal imports, the maintenance of a high level of public investment and subsidies comparable to those allegedly being paid by other governments to coal industries abroad. Far from acting as management might be expected to do, the NCB Board was behaving as if it entirely shared the interests of the union representing its employees. The situation quickly deteriorated further. I was lucky to have a private, independent and knowledgeable source of advice in my press secretary, Bernard Ingham who, before working for me in Downing Street, had spent some years in the Department of Energy and was convinced from the start that the department was far too complacent about the threat posed by a strike.
On Monday 16 February I had a meeting with David Howell and others. Their tone had entirely changed. The department had suddenly been forced to look over the abyss and had recoiled. The objective had now become to avoid an all-out national strike at the minimum cost in concessions. David Howell would have to agree to a tripartite meeting with the NUM and the NCB to achieve this. The tone of the NCB Chairman had also changed in short order. I was appalled to find that we had inadvertently entered into a battle which we could not win. There had been no forward thinking in the Department of Energy about what would happen in the case of a strike. The coal stocks piled at the pit heads were largely irrelevant to the question of whether the country could endure a strike: it was the stocks at the power stations which were important, and these were simply not sufficient. I had by now even less confidence in the NCB management. It became very clear that all we could do was to cut our losses and live to fight another day, when — with adequate preparation — we might be in a position to win. When my attitude became clear one official could not prevent himself expressing disappointment and surprise. My reply was simple: there is no point in embarking on a battle unless you are reasonably confident you can win. Defeat in a coal strike would have been disastrous.
The tripartite meeting was due to take place on 23 February. In the interim, we were hoping that the NCB would be able to make a more effective presentation of their case and to prevent the NUM continuing to make all the running. Indeed, we were advised that unless we held the tripartite meeting earlier than planned the NUM Executive might vote for a strike ballot. On the morning of 18 February I met hurriedly with David Howell to agree on the concessions which would have to be offered to stave off a strike. There was still considerable confusion as to what the facts really were. Whereas the NCB had been reported to be seeking 50 or 60 pit closures, it now appeared that they were talking about 23. But the tripartite meeting achieved its immediate objective: the strike was averted. The Government undertook to reduce imports of coal to the irreducible minimum, with David Howell indicating that we were prepared to discuss the financial implications with an open mind. Sir Derek Ezra said that in the light of this undertaking to review the financial constraints under which the NCB was operating, the Board would withdraw its closure proposals and re-examine the position in consultation with the unions.
The following day David Howell made a statement to the Commons to explain the outcome o
f the meeting. The press reaction was that the miners had won a major victory at the expense of the Government, but that we had probably been right to surrender. This was not, however, the end of our difficulties. We agreed to improve the redundancy terms for coal miners, to finance a scheme for conversion from oil to coal in industry and to look again at NCB finances. As is always the case once corporatism takes a grip, it became extremely difficult to bring the tripartite discussions to an end without provoking a crisis and equally difficult to ensure that the whole question of government finance for the NCB did not come onto the agenda. It had already emerged at the tripartite meeting on 25 February that the NCB was in far deeper financial trouble than we had known. They were likely to overrun their external financing limit (EFL), which had already been set at some £800 million, by between £450 and £500 million and were expecting to make a loss of £350 million. We would need to challenge these figures and examine them in detail, but we could not do this — as the NCB Board undoubtedly realized — when the NUM knew almost as much about the NCB’s financial position as we did. Therefore, our aim must be to draw a ring fence around the coal industry by arguing that coal was a special case rather than a precedent. We must seek to avoid any commitment for the years beyond 1981–2. Above all, we must prepare contingency plans in case the NUM sought a confrontation in the next pay round.
We confirmed these decisions at a meeting of ministers on 5 March. David Howell skilfully handled the next tripartite meeting on 11 March, at which it was understood that we would not need another tripartite meeting until the NCB’s financial position had been resolved. Meanwhile, he had been instructed to prepare a memorandum on contingency plans and circulate it by Easter.
The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 Page 18