Gold

We are where we are, clinging to the life raft of cliché

My column calling Brexit campaigners ‘hooligans’ and ending ‘Reader, I voted Remain’, caused quite a stir — coinciding as it did with The Spectator’s eloquent call for Leave. ‘Pathetic,’ spat a famous columnist encountered in the street. ‘Your words and Farage’s poster resonated so much that I (reluctantly) voted Remain,’ emailed a broadcaster who had previously given me a talking-to on the virtues of freedom. ‘I quite like being a hooligan,’ declared a Leaver on Facebook, alongside a selfie with the Boris-bus emblazoned ‘We send the EU £50 million a day.’ ‘Did someone else write your last paragraph?’ growled a veteran politico a day before the poll. ‘We thought you

Stately Spanish galleons with gold moidores

As every schoolboy knows, ‘the empire on which the sun never set’ was British, and ‘blue-blooded’ was a phrase applied to the nobility who ruled it for most of its history. And every schoolboy is wrong. The phrase was coined to describe the dominions of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (or Charles I of Spain), which were the first to span the requisite number of time zones; and ‘blue blood’ — sangre azul — referred to his Visigothic ancestors who reconquered Spain from the Moors, who had held it since 711 AD. These northern warlords would apparently show the purity of their ancestry by revealing the visible veins in

The lure of fool’s gold

In 2008, the price of gold lofted above $1,000 an ounce for the first time in history, inspiring a rush of small-scale panners to head for the diggings with hope in their hearts. As the price of the metal fell and rose again — it nearly touched $2,000 an ounce in 2011 — journalist Steve Boggan contracted a touch of gold fever himself. He set off for California to find out who these chancers were. And to find some gold. I’ve taken Route 49 through inland California — Coloma to Sonora. The largely empty highway, which slices through heartbreaking landscape, is named of course after the fabled ‘Forty-niners’, and you

I miss the days when French rugby was great. Thierry Dusautoir must, too

It used to be such a treat of a winter weekend, sitting down to watch France against Wales in Paris in the Six Nations. And not just because of the anthems. There would be the prospect of seeing players like Sella, Serge Blanco, the Williamses, JJ and JPR, Philippe Saint-André, Scott Gibbs, Rives, Jenkins — an almost endless list of exquisite, fluid runners, the essence of rugby genius. Now less so. It’s Mathieu Bastareaud and Jamie Roberts, a fifth of a ton of gristle and bone, banging into each other. The main question now is quite how poor Les Bleus will be. You can see it all in the resigned

The idiot economy – behind the ‘dark web’ cyber-crime busts

Spectator Money is out, with ideas on how to make it, spend it and even how to be seen spending it. Freddy Gray looks at the ‘social economy’ – think tax loopholes for financiers of politically favoured endeavours; while Camilla Swift peruses credit cards such as Kanye West’s ‘African American Express’ and the Dubai First Royale, ‘studded with diamonds. Bring it on, Sheikh Sugardaddy.’ Spare a thought, though, for the inconspicuous consumers – or at least, the wannabes. This segment took a hit last week in a joint operation dubbed ‘Onymous’, in which the FBI, Europol and friends arrested 17 alleged web-administrators and vendors and shuttered dozens of sites peddling child pornography, weapons, fake Danish passports, hacking services and so on. ‘Cash, drugs, gold and silver

The bull market is five years old. Does that mean it’s nearly over?

There were no fireworks, and not much champagne. Indeed, it wasn’t an anniversary that many people noticed. But on 9 March, the bull market in equities was five years old. It was on that day back in 2009 that the Dow Jones Industrial Average, the key global benchmark for stocks, edged down another 80 points to close at 6,547, its lowest level since 1997. Although no one knew at the time, that was the bottom, and it was to go no lower. From then onwards, the recovery was under way. In London, our own low point came three days earlier, on 6 March 2009, when the FTSE100 index touched 3,530.

Martin Vander Weyer: Bad news for pawnbrokers. Is that good news for the rest of us?

While attention has focused on the sudden ubiquity and alleged iniquity of payday lenders, boom and impending bust has infected another part of the short-term credit sector. For the very reason that the global economy is recovering, Britain’s pawnbrokers are in trouble. Pawnbroking traces its history to the Medicis, but owes its traditional image in this country to Charles Dickens: ‘Of the numerous receptacles for misery and distress with which the streets of London unhappily abound,’ he wrote in 1835, ‘there are, perhaps, none which present such striking scenes as the pawnbrokers’ shops.’ Today’s UK market leader H&T, formerly Harvey & Thompson, opened for business on Vauxhall Bridge Road in

Investment special: The case for gold

Few assets are more misunderstood than gold. I might even refine that statement — if you’ll pardon the pun — and say that few assets are more misunderstood than money. Gold happens to be both. Technically, of course, we are constrained by government edict to use pounds sterling for the payment of our taxes and debts. My take on this dismal state of affairs, but also my optimism, can best be summarised in the title of Nathan Lewis’s recent book, Gold: The Once and Future Money. Economists give money three attributes. It should be a unit of account (we can price things in it). It should be a medium of

An upside to the gold rout

Unless you bet your life savings on gold some time in the past three years — after its price had passed on the way up the level to which it has now fallen back — there’s no need to be distressed by headlines about a ‘gold rout’, nor even the prospect of a ‘bear embrace’. The impulses behind this sudden downward lurch are positive for expectations of economic revival. Gold is the timeless safe haven for those who distrust governments and fear inflation, so a stampede of sellers — on Monday there seemed to be virtually no buyers — indicates an ebb tide in those sentiments. In the US in

Euro crisis enters a new phase

It was a problem that would be fixed with a snap of the Commissioners’ manicured fingers, but now fresh euro-storms are louring in the near distance. As predicted over the weekend, the markets reacted to the European Banking Authority’s deeply flawed stress tests with fevered concern and a clear note of contempt. The FTSE shed 90 points yesterday, with banks among the day’s biggest losers. The performance in Frankfurt and Paris was equally baleful, as investors fled for safe commodity stocks. As Fraser has noted, Allister Heath argues that the Eurozone crisis is responsible for the booming price of gold. The markets have recovered slightly this morning; but that does

Shaking our faith in money

Addictive though the hacking inquiry is, the average Brit is probably more worried about the slow decimation of his spending power at a time when salaries are flat. Against this backdrop, the price of gold today has broken $1,600 an ounce.  With inflation and the Fed’s printing presses whirring, faith in paper money is taking a knock – and this is reflected in the price of gold.  Fears of a debt crisis in Europe add to it too, with a disaster scenario all too easy to imagine. Over the last decade, the West blew a bubble fuelled by low interest rates and debt-financed consumption. The bubble burst. Solution: even lower

Going for gold

There’s gold out there. The search for lost masterpieces beguiles many a theatrical impresario but with it comes the danger that the thrill of the chase may convert a spirit of honest exploration into an obtuse reverence for the quarry. There’s gold out there. The search for lost masterpieces beguiles many a theatrical impresario but with it comes the danger that the thrill of the chase may convert a spirit of honest exploration into an obtuse reverence for the quarry. The huntsman starts to believe that neglect proves excellence. Sturdy Beggars, an independent troupe who accept no public subsidy, are mounting a season of ‘forgotten gems’ from Eastern Europe. The