Work dominates blogging today, by a wide margin. Hopefully it will be obvious why, later.
In the meantime, these pieces are half-read or waiting for me to have a moment:
A long profile of Paul Krugman; I have not got far enough to understand why it is called “The Deflationist”
Interview with Gordon Brown in the Economist. Nothing about bullying. I must admit my views have been slightly hardened against Brown’s team when I read this piece from Sue Cameron about the McBride/Whelan behaviour in the past:
Back in 2005, Mr McB, who started his civil service career in 1996, was the Treasury’s civil service director of communications. GB, then chancellor, was his boss but Whitehall officials are banned from party politics. Yet when Chris Giles, the FT economics editor, wrote about the Tories accusing the government of fiddling some figures, Mr McB did not hesitate to take sides. He e-mailed Mr Giles saying how dare he quote the Tories in this way. He added that unless there was a change of tune, Mr Giles would have no more briefings from the Treasury.
And one of my more admired politicians, Darling, is clearly repressing a lot of anger on this.
I am a saddo who reads books about th 1976 crisis in bed. I was amazed to see Norman Lamont in there, berating the government for its policies. Here he is questioning their fiscal policies, and the interest rates that result.
David Cameron would have been 10. Now the FT is doing an extended piece on his pre-MP life. I had no idea what a machine politician he was, and how deeply embedded:
He worked against the grain of a relentlessly hostile press and a poor economy. At the Treasury, he witnessed his boss face the shock of departure from the exchange rate mechanism on Black Wednesday in 1992. That evening, as Lord Lamont started his statement after a “difficult and turbulent day”, television footage showed a tanned Mr Cameron ambling past in the background, hand in pocket, seemingly unfazed by his boss – and his party – losing its reputation for economic competence. Due, perhaps, to that permanent air of unflappability, Lord Lamont grew increasingly reliant on his assistant