Martin Vander Weyer

In this season of scant corporate news – a Ryanair rant against the French here, a new BP oilfield there – it’s hard to know what business leaders are thinking about the cold months to come. Until, that is, you read a survey conducted last month for the Institute of Directors. Given that I’m writing from France this month, I’d call it an absolute croissant-dropper. The nub is that 639 UK businesses, large and small, report ‘optimism in prospects for the UK economy’ at -72, lower even than their darkest pandemic sentiment at -69 in April 2020. Export hopes and investment intentions are down, wage expectations are sharply up and, unsurprisingly, headcounts are set to fall.

I must modestly doubt that the Supreme Court justices took account of my 12 July column in their ruling on the issue of hidden car finance commissions. But the effect, limiting compensation claims to the more egregious cases of overcharging, is to do exactly what I hoped: namely to head off ‘a tsunami of claims that could cripple lenders and provoke a mini banking crisis’. Chancellor Rachel Reeves evidently hoped so too; given that up to 90 per cent of new UK car sales are financed by loans offered through car dealerships, a collapse of that market would have put another ding in an already battered economy.

At Stansted on Monday, a currency kiosk offered me €270 for £300. ‘Wrong way round,’ I said, having swiftly figured €300 for £270 would represent an exchange rate of 1.11, close enough to the current market level of 1.14. ‘Nah, mate, airport rate, innit?’ This week’s first lesson is never buy euros at the airport; but the second lesson is that wherever you buy them – especially if you have, say, a Mediterranean superyacht charter in prospect – you’re in for a painfully expensive summer. Back in March you could have had €1.20 for your pound. Since then sentiment towards sterling has been soured by expectations of bad economic news made worse by whatever Rachel Reeves does next, necessitating successive interest rate cuts.

The weekend’s torrential Yorkshire rain amid a hosepipe ban offered a handy metaphor for the chaos that has befallen the privatised UK water industry. Sir Jon Cunliffe’s Independent Water Commission report – aiming for a ‘fundamental reset’ to restore public confidence, clean our waterways and ensure future supply – is welcome for the clarity of its central conclusion: that unfit-for-purpose Ofwat and a jumble of other regulators should be replaced by a single body with more teeth and comprehensive oversight of the sector. So far, so good. Cunliffe – a veteran of the Treasury, the Bank of England and Brussels – can also be applauded for his bureaucratic cunning in tabling no fewer than 88 recommendations, in the hope that perhaps eight of them might actually be adopted.

The nation owes the former Labour leader Neil Kinnock an eternal debt for losing the 1992 general election when he was clear favourite to win it, thereby sparing us whatever socialist folly he might have brought to Downing Street. I salute him again for popping up to propose a 2 per cent wealth tax on fortunes above £10 million that might raise a supposed £11 billion for the hard-pressed Chancellor – thereby bringing into sharp focus the vague threat that several cabinet ministers have studiously refused to rule out. Pressure is building on Rachel Reeves from backbenchers, unions and anti-poverty campaign groups to mount a raid on the rich in her autumn Budget.

Surprisingly big numbers are the theme of this week’s column, several having flashed up to disturb the pleasures of a summer season of parties, music and sport. The first is the 69,000 tally of jobs shed in the UK hospitality industry since the increase in employer’s national insurance contributions in October’s Budget – the most destructive legislative measure for business in recent memory, except perhaps for the Employment Rights Bill that’s expected to receive Royal Assent before parliament’s recess this month. The UKHospitality trade association thinks losses could rise to between 150,000 and 200,000 by the autumn, as 70 per cent of member businesses cut more staff and pub closures (of which 303 were reported in the first quarter) continue apace.

I’m fresh out of advice for those now leaving university and wondering how on earth they’re going to make a living and live their dreams. This week’s bad news (from the job search website Adzuna) was that graduate and other entry-level vacancies have fallen almost a third since the launch of the AI chatbot. Should this unlucky post-Covid cohort stay on at ‘uni’ for another degree? Or does that mean racking up student debt without enhancing employability? I used to urge everyone to go abroad in their twenties before family responsibilities overtake. But where to now? Hong Kong and mainland China are out; it’s the wrong time to go to America or the Middle East; they’ll need work permits for the EU.

One peril of a sudden adverse turn of global events is that it provides cover for bad domestic government. If confidence is knocked by fear of war, if inflation blips because the Strait of Hormuz is blocked, if demand for defence spending sends budgets awry, voters may easily be persuaded that Middle East conflict, rather than Labour policy, has put the UK economy flat on its back. But that’s no excuse for proceeding with bad legislation as the world darkens – and one such item is Angela Rayner’s Employment Rights Bill, currently under House of Lords scrutiny, which in brief summary confers fearsome powers on trade unions and creates a ‘Fair Work Agency’ to interfere in business in all sorts of other ways.

Well, would you look at Mark Carney. Just three months ago I described the incoming prime minister of Canada and former governor of the Bank of England as ‘a fish-out-of-water technocrat’ who made little public impact over here and was swiftly forgotten after he left in 2020. When I once came across him hunched and dark-suited in the Pret queue at King’s Cross, midway through his Bank tenure, I actually felt sorry for him. But here he is, beer-swigging in an Ottawa bar with Sir Keir Starmer; cutting Donald Trump short in a press call before the G7 meeting; shedding his eco-credentials to champion Canadian oil and gas; and generally looking the statesman at ease with his people. What happened?

The Chancellor’s promise of £14 billion for the Sizewell C nuclear power station in Suffolk is hardly news. The project has been talked about for 15 years while the existing UK nuclear estate has gradually been shut down and the only other new station, Hinkley Point in Somerset, has stumbled to a decade-long delay and £28 billion of budget overruns. Quite some optimism – verging on Milibandian delusion – is required to embrace the idea that Sizewell will come quicker and cheaper because it will replicate Hinkley Point while avoiding its mistakes. And since Chinese money has been ruled out, it’s still a mystery as to who else will pay for the project beside HMG and the French utility company EDF.

NatWest has returned to full private-sector ownership 17 years after the £46 billion bailout that took it into state hands – and five years after the name swap which reduced the once globally trumpeted Royal Bank of Scotland to a humble north-of-the-border branch network, while promoting its English subsidiary NatWest to become the parent brand. RBS shareholders who were almost wiped out but hung on to what are now NatWest certificates have seen their shares triple in value since 2023, finally surpassing the bailout price. HM Treasury took a £10.5 billion loss on the whole rescue exercise, which required a decade-long series of placements and buybacks to filter the taxpayers’ 84 per cent holding back into the market as the bank’s performance gradually recovered.

An awkward delay in the unveiling of the Mansion House Accord was, we’re told, nothing more than a Downing Street ‘timetabling issue’. It was perhaps a tenterhooks issue too, as Donald Trump’s Sharpie hovered over the UK-US trade deal which was clearly going to make bigger headlines. But the Accord also had to contend with City discord around the issue of ‘mandation’ of pension funds to invest in unlisted equity that might contribute to future UK growth. In July 2023, 11 institutions inked the first Mansion House ‘compact’, committing 5 per cent of ‘defined contribution’ pension monies to private equity by the end of the decade. Now 17 industry leaders have committed to upping the target to 10 per cent, at least half of which will back UK ventures.

There’s nothing new about bringing maverick businesspeople into government to give the bureaucratic blob what an unnamed ‘Trump adviser’ was recently quoted as calling ‘a swift kick in the ass’. After all, it was David Cameron who in 2010 hired the now all but unmentionable retail buccaneer Sir Philip Green to find ways to cut Whitehall waste. But Donald Trump’s conferment of the role of solo global peacemaker on his real-estate buddy Steve Witkoff – who has no known foreign policy or government expertise – takes that idea to a scary new extreme. Take a look on X at a clip of him arriving alone to meet Vladimir Putin and a line-up of Kremlin heavies. When a woman, face unseen, takes the seat next to Witkoff, he turns to her and says: ‘Are you my translator?

Donald Trump’s Soprano-like threat that the ‘termination’ of Federal Reserve chairman Jerome Powell ‘cannot come fast enough’ has been headlined as one of his wildest thrusts to date, but is actually one of his most conventional. Prickly politicians always resent unelected central bankers, though they also see them as useful scapegoats for economic trouble. Liz Truss longed to fire Andrew Bailey from the Bank of England; Gordon Brown gave Eddie George’s Bank its ‘independence’ but took away so much of its power that George nearly resigned; Margaret Thatcher never accepted the most potent modern governor, Gordon Richardson, as ‘one of us’.