Introduction
These days we are plagued by questions that roughly amount to “is Britain broke?”, and closely related inquiries such as “where did all the money go?”, or assertions such as “the government has run out of money.” Often, these statements are intended to frame a debate trying to justify yet more austerity, and are therefore, at a time when public services are creaking, destitution is rising and many are still suffering the effect of the cost of living crisis, very politically charged indeed.
Laying the groundwork
The below is an attempt to address these concerns in a rational, evidence-backed, and moral way.
To be clear, the moral assumption here is just that if we accept the need not to be selfish, meaning respecting the wants and needs of others as equally deserving as our own, provided they return the favour, then we are obliged to organise our society, including our economy, in such a way that whoever then gets to be the worst off is still better off than the worst off would be if we organised ourselves in any other way. After all, as the saying goes, there but for the grace of God, or simple dumb luck, go you.
Now, let’s refine the question. For starters, we should drop the alliteration: we mean the UK, specifically the people of the UK, not Great Britain. But what does “broke” mean?
Being “broke” means not having enough money to buy the things we need. Quantifying “need” is clearly open to debate, and that’s where moral considerations come in: to not be selfish, we have to treat the needs of whoever our social arrangements cause to be worst off more seriously than any other needs.
To become broke we need to run out of money, meaning that we have exhausted any savings, or wealth that can feasibly be converted into money. Therefore, another question arises: not just are we broke right now, but are “eating into” our stores of wealth? In other words, even if we aren’t broke, are we becoming broke?
Finally, money is an easily storable and exchangeable claim on resources: we use it to buy stuff. What matters if we run out of money is really that we then lose access to the resources we need. If we had direct access to all the resources we needed, such as place to live, food, clean water, energy and a capacity to manufacture goods, then we wouldn’t need money, and going broke wouldn’t matter. So the deeper question here isn’t is the UK broke, or going broke, but is the UK running out of resources.
To assess how our capacity to meet our needs is changing, especially as “need” is debatable, it is useful to have a point in time with which to compare. A moment where we are likely to agree that we had, as a society, a capacity to meet our “needs”, if not perfectly, for perfection is ever elusive, but adequately.
We are going to use 2008 as that reference year, because this was just before the Financial Crash, an event that still casts a long shadow over everything, as we shall see. Whatever, it’s faults, 2008, pre that Crash, pre-COVID, pre the war in the Ukraine, can seem like something of a golden age compared to our contemporary perceptions of creeping dystopia.
We will normally use 2023 as the end point of our analysis, simply because at the time of writing, 2025, that’s often the last year for which reliable statistics are currently nearly uniformly available across multiple datasets.
Also note this is a “whole economy” approach. What share of our combined resources we choose, or not, to devote to communal activities, through public spending, is up to us to decide democratically. It is a choice. Therefore the question “has the government run out of money?” is irrelevant: how much resource to use publicly, and administer through our different levels of government, is up to us. Provided we aren’t actually running out of real resources, of course.
Are we running out of resources?
Of course, we won’t be able to efficiently produce all the resources we need here in the UK, so some of the resources we produce here will have to be exchanged with resources produced elsewhere. So, as resources will often be produced for sale, i.e. converted into money, rather than used directly, it is the market value of resources, rather than “use value”, that we will need here. “Use value” is a meaningful and quantifiable concept (see gezwinstanley.wordpress.com/tulips-and-cryptocurrencies-is-speculation-theft for an example of how to quantify use value) and it isn’t the same as market value. For example, many essentials can be accessed freely, such as breathable air, meaning something with a value as great as life itself has zero price. Also, items caught up in asset bubbles can temporarily acquire hyper-inflated market values, as demand for the item is driven by buyers seeking to speculate on the market value of the item increasing still further, driving the price up yet more and feeding the bubble. However, the value of resources when we are extensively trading in resources is, by definition, market value, so we’ll have to stick to that for this analysis, even if market values often reflect the price of something and the real value of nothing.
So how has the market value of the UK’s total resources changed between 2008 and 2023?
First we should consider what’s called our net capital stock: the market value of the total supply of “made” resources, from homes to factories to intellectual property such as software. The “net” means that this figure attempts to allow for depreciation: that things wear out. In 2023 prices this value had increased from £4.8 trillion in 2008 to £5.8 trillion in 2023, so by roughly a trillion and 20.17%.
Secondly, we should consider natural resources, the market value of the total supply of non-made resources, those available just in the environment, which the UK was then able to utilise. This stock can increase because previously unavailable resources become accessible, e.g. we can exploit more renewable energy, or decrease due to resources being used up or as a result of environmental degradation. In 2023 prices, this value had increased from 1.2 £ trillion in 2008 to 1.7 £ trillion in 2023, so by roughly half a trillion and 42.78%. However, these types of “ecosystem services” statistics are still under development, not just methodologically but, to the extent that some of the component figures for 2008 and 2023 were missing, and had to be imputed on the basis that anything missing would form the same proportion of the total as it did in 2022, when complete figures are currently available. Therefore, we should use some caution here.
Then of course we have people: the total market value of the work that we could do. This has been estimated by taking the working population in 2008 and 2023 and multiplying by the corresponding average wage figures, converted to 2023 prices. The annual figures are £1.3 trillion in 2008 rising to £1.4 trillion in 2023. It would be useful to be able to simply add this figure to net capital and the total for natural resources. Technically, however, this would be difficult to do, as the annual value of our work is not a stock or a “level”, it is a flow or a rate. To calculate the market value of the total stock of labour we would need to derive at least an average figure for the value of work to be generated for the remaining working life of each worker. Then we would need to assert a “discount rate”, to turn future years potential earnings into what is technically called “net present value”. This is because, and with apologies for making this sound like a slave market, anyone “buying” the value of the worker’s work won’t be willing to pay as much for, say, the work 10 years in the future as this year’s work, because of all the uncertainties involved. This all involves so much guesswork that your conclusions will depend on the assumptions you make far more than anything “objective”. So, sorry, there is no complete total of UK resources being stated here, as there is no straightforward way to add the value of the labour force, as a resource, to the values of the stock of made and unmade resources. The trend in the value of the UK’s total labour resources is more meaningful, and this implies a real term growth of 5.57% from 2008 to 2023.
The larger our population then, provided that population is working, the more people we have to create resources. We also, though, have more people to supply, more “mouths to feed”. Therefore, we should look at what these changes in UK resource levels mean on a per capita basis. Economic figures that attempt to assert a population’s well-being on anything other than a per capita basis are at best incomplete and at worst not to be trusted.
From 2008 to 2023 the UK population has increased from 61 823 800 to 68 265 200, or by 10.42%.
That means that when we divide the total market value of labour resource by the population, we actually get a small decrease, of 4.39%. That’s because, from 2008 to 2023, the increase in that value has failed to keep up with the population increase, mainly because we had to use real-term average wage figures to estimate the market value of labour and real-term mean earnings (not median: it’s usually the median that gets quoted) fell by 2.46%, largely due to COVID and high inflation after 2021, but also because the proportion of the population that was of usually non working age (16 or under or 65 and over), or of working age but inactive, increased by 1.99%. Most of the latter increase was due to the ageing population, with the number of over 65s increasing by 30.63% from 2008 to 2023 (from 16.00% to 18.93% of the total UK population), where-as the number of 16 years old or younger increased by 6.56% and the number of people of working age but “inactive” increased by 0.99%, i.e. just under 1%.
The increases in both net capital stock and natural resources, however, more than kept pace with the population increase. In 2008, but in 2023 prices, per person “made stuff” had a value of £78 259. In 2023 the same figure is £85 168, so the per capita value has increased by 8.83%. Similarly, the per capita share of natural resources has increased, in 2023 prices, from £19 686.40 in 2008 to £25 455.50 in 2023, or by 29.30%.
Overall, there is no strong evidence that the “real resources” of the UK have shrunk from 2008 to 2023: on the contrary it is more likely these have increased, though the changing age composition of the population is an emerging challenge to which we should remain alert. We do not seem to be going broke in the sense that we are gradually running down our stock of resources, which is unsurprising given the propensity of “produced items” to accumulate faster than they depreciate, and continuing technological advancement.
However, these “stock of real resource” statistics are still under development, so we will also look at answering these questions in two other, more conventional, ways: how has our nation’s wealth and income changed since 2008?
(For methodology and sources see: Note 1 ).
Are we running out of wealth?
The data source we have used here defines “wealth” as: “Net national wealth is the total value of assets (cash, housing, bonds, equities, etc.) owned by the national economy, minus its debts. The national economy – in the national accounts sense – includes all domestic sectors, i.e. all entities that are resident of a given country (in the sense of their economic activity), whether they belong to the private sector, the corporate sector, the government sector. “. This therefore differs from real resources because it only includes things that are “owned” (ecosystem services are often not owned) and also includes financial assets.
In 2008, in 2023 prices, the net national wealth of the UK was £9.389 trillion, rising to £10.233 trillion in 2023, an increase of 8.98%. However, as we can see, this is lower than population growth, so per capita wealth falls slightly from £151882, in 2023 prices, in 2008, to £149904 in 2023, or by 1.3%.
Again, this fall was largely due to high inflation post COVID and Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine, plus the higher interest used in an attempt to suppress that inflation. That meant the price rises of many assets did not keep pace with inflation and the face value of bonds fell. If, by money, we roughly really mean wealth measured in market value terms, that may be a small part of the explanation for our experience that the wealth has “gone” somewhere.
Of course, these are often “paper” values, which can fluctuate without the underlying “use value” of any “real resources” which those “paper” values represent changing. For example, a “house” doesn’t become less useful when house prices fall because interest rates have risen and choked off demand. There is one crucial exception to this pearl of wisdom, though. The “paper” value of something, it’s market value, is the value for which that item can be sold, with the returns then possibly used to buy real resources. Therefore levels of market value, and often purely financial, wealth have huge implications when it comes to being able to access real resources.
When we look at how the distribution of this wealth changed, though, we can further address the question of “where did the money go?”. From 2008 to 2023, in 2023 prices, the average per capita wealth of the wealthiest 1% of the UK population increased from £3 068 016 to £3 192 955.2, so from roughly 3.1 to 3.2 £ million, or by 4.07%. By contrast, from 2008 to 2023, in 2023 prices, the average per capita wealth of the poorest 50% of the population decreased from £19 137.13 to £14 090.98, or a fall of 26.37%. That means that in 2008 the average member of the top 1% had about 160 times the wealth of the average member of the bottom 1%, but by 2023 that factor had risen to about 227 times.
(For methodology and sources see Note 2)
Are we running out of income?
Another way we could be going broke is if our income is falling. Here we’ll measure national income in a fairly conventional way, as Gross Domestic Product, which can be interpreted as the sum of the income derived from all domestically produced goods and services in a given year. Note that Gross Domestic Product, unlike wealth or the sum of resources, is therefore a flow or rate, rather than a stock or a level.
UK GDP rose from 2.3 £ trillion in 2008 in 2023 prices to 2.7 £ trillion in 2023, or by 18.85%. In per capita terms that meant a rise from £37 000 a year in 2008 in 2023 prices to £40 000 a year in 2023, or by 7.64%.
Therefore, far from our national income falling, it has increased. Since the Financial Crash that increase has undoubtedly been slower than in previous historical periods, due to austerity, COVID and most recently energy price shocks caused by Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine, with an added dose of Brexit, of being the first nation to impose sanctions on itself. However, an increase, in real, per capita terms, is still an increase: it is not going broke.
We should also ask if, as with wealth, the income figures provide any answers to “where did the money go” style questions. Now GDP is an aggregate figure for a nation as a whole: therefore there are no “GDP” figures for individuals or families. Therefore we will need to look at actual individual income statistics. We will use the same source as we did for wealth, which defines “Pre-tax national income” as “the sum of all pre-tax personal income flows accruing to the owners of the production factors, labour and capital, before taking into account the operation of the tax/transfer system, but after taking into account the operation of pension system .” Working from that source, the average per capita pre-tax income, in 2023 prices, for someone in the top 1% of earners, was £444 512 in 2008, rising to £445 728 in 2023, or increasing by 0.27%. For the bottom 50% of earners the corresponding figures were £12 691 in 2008, rising to £13 678 in 2023, or by 7.78%. This means that in 2008 the average person in the top 1% had an income 35 times that of the average person in the bottom 50%, while in 2023 the corresponding ratio was 32.6, so a slight 7% improvement in income inequality, likely mainly due to the “triple lock” alleviating pensioner poverty.
Looking again at the figures, that means that, on average, those in the top 1% received a rise of just over a thousand pounds from 2008 to 2023, while those in the bottom 50% received a rise of just under a thousand pounds, meaning that, very roughly, the increase in the national income since 2008 was distributed evenly between the two groups, slightly alleviating income inequality in relative terms. On the face of it, income inequality has not increased and there therefore isn’t any kind of answer here as to “where did the money go”. How do we then reconcile this with the very significant increase in wealth inequality? Shouldn’t people getting generally richer correlate with them earning more, both because higher earnings mean they can save more, and more riches generate higher earnings?
Now, as earnings increase the rate at which an individual can accumulate wealth tends to increase disproportionately: if they were able to save, say, 10% of their income before an increase, then, after a raise, and even if they spend much of the increase, they will have more surplus income than before and be able to save, not just 10% of their increased income but, say, 12%, so proportionately more and therefore potentially significantly absolutely more than before. Consequently, high earners can save much more than low earners, who very often can save nothing and are likely to be in debt. For any income inequality ratio the corresponding wealth inequality ratio is therefore likely to be much higher, so what we see here, a top 1% compared with bottom 50% income inequality ratio of 33 in 2023 but a wealth inequality ratio of 227 is unsurprising. However, by these considerations alone, that wealth inequality ratio, though very significant, should at least stay the same. The fact that high earners can save much more doesn’t explain how the wealth inequality ratio could increase from 160 in 2008 to 227 in 2023, unless income inequality was rising in proportional terms, which, as we have seen, it, generally and on average, wasn’t, at least when we compare the top 1% to the bottom 50%.
The likely explanation here is that wealth creates wealth, as most famously analysed by the economist Thomas Piketty, meaning that wealth tends to grow exponentially. There are two ways this can happen. One is pure “asset appreciation” where the “use-value” of owned resource stays constant but there is a “paper” increase in market value. This can happen because assets are in an asset price bubble, or it could happen because there is a fixed or very slowly growing supply of some asset, and shortage is driving up the price, or some mixture of both factors. The obvious example here is housing. Note that wealth can easily beget wealth in such a situation because the richest can hoard the assets, increasing the shortage and therefore further driving up the price to purchase or rent those assets. In this way, the wealthiest can enrich themselves while impoverishing everyone else: hence the claim that “the rich will own your Nan’s house,” made famous in the UK by anti-inequality campaigner Gary Stevenson. The other way wealth can beget wealth is more straight-forward: resources are acquired and invested to create still more resources, for example setting up a factory and increasing production in some way. Repeatedly, the wealth arising from either asset appreciation or expansion of production can be further invested to create still more wealth.
Nevertheless, we still have to ask, if wealth is creating wealth in this way why isn’t it showing up as an increase in proportionate income inequality? The answer is that the wealth created by wealth will tend not to show up as earnings within limited time-frames. If an asset simply increases in value that will not show up as a capital gain unless the asset is sold. If a company makes more profits those will not be paid out as dividends if the profits are re-invested: instead the value of the company will increase and, if it is listed, so normally would its share price. The wealth generated by many investment vehicles, such as private pension funds or stocks and shares ISAs where dividends are re-invested, will not show up as individual income until many years after it was generated.
Therefore, there is no inexplicable contradiction here between roughly flat income inequality over this fifteen year period but increasing wealth inequality, and therefore no reason to doubt that increase in wealth inequality, or that wealth inequality could go some way towards answering questions along the lines of “where did the money go”. Essentially, the average increases in the wealth of the richest currently includes a lot of the “deferred” increased income of the richest.
(For methodology and sources see Note 3)
How are our needs changing?
At this point it seems we are not, as a nation, going broke in any meaningful sense. Our stock of real resources and wealth seems to be reasonably healthy, and our national income has grown in real and per capita terms. If anything, we may start to suspect that the issues we are experiencing are more to do with maldistribution of our resources than any absolute shortage of resources.
However, there is another way in which we could, as a nation, be going broke, which is if our needs have grown so fast that our income hasn’t kept pace.
This begs the question of how to measure our changing “needs” as a nation. Population is part of that, which is why, in assessing all this, measures in per capita terms are essential. Beyond that, though, how are our needs, as a population, changing as the characteristics, and not just the size, of our population changes, and how is the cost of what we need changing? Are we, in short, having to spend more than we have coming in, using up more resources in real market value terms than we are creating?
The review of the stocks above: resources and wealth, would imply that the answer to that question is likely to be “no”, because if the answer was “yes” those would be running down consistently. However, we did identify a small likely per capita fall in the value of our labour resources and in our per capita wealth, though that seems attributable mainly to recent inflation in both cases, so let’s try and assess our needs in more detail to see what the challenges really are in terms of our changing needs.
To do that, we used the Treasury’s high level breakdowns of public spending, for 2008 and 2023, with everything converted to 2023 prices, and also, to get a handle on our private per capita average adult income, took GDP, subtracted the total public spending, and then divided what’s left across the population, in this case across everyone aged 20 or over. We will further assume that in 2008, as asserted when we were laying our groundwork for this analysis, we were roughly adequately meeting our needs. That means we need to assess how our needs have changed since 2008.
In 2008 total public spending was 886.83 £ billion, in 2023 prices, or 38.88% of GDP. When we follow the above methodology, we find that, in 2008, the per capita income left after deducting total public spending from GDP, in 2023 prices, was £29 735.64, rising to £30 356 on average in 2023, so a real terms increase of 2.09%. Also note, that these are the average per capita income figures after we have subtracted public spending, they are free of all taxes, fees and fines, free of everything from direct taxes such as income tax, national insurance or council tax through indirect taxes such as VAT or stamp duty to fees, such as the cost of passport renewal.
Again, then, we see a pattern of low growth, but still very much not, as a society, going broke.
However, the fifteen years after 2008 and the Financial Crisis were years of austerity. We will define “austerity” here meaning not simply real term cuts in public spending, but instead changes to public spending that mean that services can no longer meet needs as effectively as they did before. If needs for a public service are increasing faster than general inflation, say due to changes in the size of a component of the population, or cost pressures rising more than general inflation in this area of activity, then a budget can increase in real terms, but still be an austerity budget, because needs that were previously being addressed are now being left unmet, causing harm to the general public. In the case of what has happened since 2008, various studies link austerity to hundreds of thousands of excess deaths (for example, see this British Medical Journal report: jech.bmj.com/content/76/12/1027).
So we are left with having to assess how needs, quantified in terms of the spending required to meet those needs, has changed from 2008 to 2023. To do this, we again took the Treasury’s high level breakdowns of public spending for 2008, converted to 2023 prices. Then we increased each of the budgets to allow for population growth, except for two particular areas which we increased even more. Those budgets where we applied higher increases are health and social care. For healthcare we applied the average figure for real term increases in NHS spending for the first 70 years after its foundation, which is 3.7% a year, for fifteen years, to the 2008 figure for health spending in 2023 prices. For the social care (personal social services) component of the overall social protection budget we scaled the budget not by general population growth but by the higher growth in the number of people aged 65 or over. For each sector of spending, we then took whichever was the higher figure: the actual figure for 2023 or our projected figure.
This resulted in a projected, non-austere total public spending for 2023 of 1197.16 £ billion, or 44.16% of GDP. For comparison, the actual total of public spending in 2023 was 1114.3 £ billion, or 41.10% of GDP. For more context, according to the OECD, “General government expenditures across the OECD averaged 42.6% of GDP in 2023,” and “On average public spending in OECD countries that are also EU members was at 49.3% of GDP in 2024” (See : https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2025/06/government-at-a-glance-2025_70e14c6c/full-report/general-government-expenditures_395dfea8.html). Neither of these GDP shares is therefore unusually high.
We may ask what are the reasons for the 3.7% annual long-term real term growth figure for health spending. If spending had followed that trend from 2008 to 2023 that would have meant a 72.5% real term increase over 15 years, instead of the actual 42.48% real term increase, and 29.04% real term and per capita increase, that did occur. There are many reasons, though, why it is very likely that underlying need for healthcare increased at rate closer to the long term 3.7%. These include, as well as an increasing population, an ageing population, with higher incidence of co-morbidities, and more expensive drugs. In more recent years, we could add the bed-blocking caused by over-stretched social care, the aftermath of COVID, under-funding of capital investment, and staff shortages leading to expensive back-filling with private resources, such as agency doctors and nurses, and what could be an emerging mental health crisis. Of course, by putatively fixing social care through our hypothetical non-austere public spending, we should have solved the “bed blocking” problem, and the NHS staff recruitment and capital investment issues, but those were only recent factors contributing to long term increases in health spending, which extend back to periods where the social care wasn’t in crisis and the NHS was adequately funded. We also wouldn’t have neglected mental health spending for as long as we actually did. Though those are examples of how austerity is counter-productive, serving in the longer term to increase rather than decrease costs, overall 3.7% is a reasonable figure to use here, in the absence of any other.
The ageing population is especially notable. Any glance at projections of how the composition of our population will change will create the impression that we will have to cope with an ever increasing proportion of older people indefinitely. However, it is vital to understand that the proportion of older people in a population tends to change for two main reasons: increasing life expectancy and the ageing of a higher birth cohort who were actually born decades ago. In the former case, provided we triage provision of healthcare more to quality of life rather than basic life extension, increasing life expectancy should also mean an increasing “healthspan”. In this situation, we can sustain a larger older population by retiring later, while still enjoying as many years of actual and active retirement as previous generations, or perhaps even more years, if we retain the duration of retirement as a proportion of life. The second case, where an ageing population is due to births over a certain period being higher than later equivalent periods, and then those people simply growing older, is more difficult, as there is no reason to believe that those elderly people will be any healthier than previous cohorts of the elderly, as there is when life expectancies increase. However, this challenge, which is obviously the one we face with the “Baby Boomer” generation born in the couple of decades after the end of the Second World War, can be temporary. The simplest, and most responsible, way to deal with this is to accept the need for higher spending and higher taxes while the “Baby Boomer” generation passes through its old age.
Now, this is back-of-the-envelope, but having roughly factored out austerity we end up, after we have subtracted these increased, non-austere, totals for public spending from GDP, with a per capita, for everyone aged 20 or over, after tax income in 2023, in 2023 prices, of £28 781.
Note that this is slightly lower than the equivalent 2008 figure of £29 736, a decrease of 3.21%, but in exchange for fixed public services, including a fully functional NHS, social care and social housing being provided at 2008 levels, continuing NHS dentistry and fewer potholes. As public spending provides most of us with benefits in kind, or “transfer payments” in the jargon, it is possible that would, for most people, more than compensate for the implied £955 annual loss even in pure cash terms. Moreover, without austerity public services are likely to have been provided more cost-effectively: for example, better healthcare means lower benefit payments to cover long-term sickness and more people able to work and pay taxes. Therefore, it is more likely than not that the non-austerity picture being painted here is over-pessimistic, and without austerity we could have both preserved public services and still had the same or more disposable income left-over than in 2008. As we have seen, austerity is usually penny-wise but pound foolish. In terms of public services, and the economy as a whole, it is like trying to save money by avoiding regular car maintenance, only to have the car then explode.
Also, of course, the extra public spending would, in and of itself, directly add to GDP. However, resources are finite, so unless the public spending is tapping into resources that are currently under-utilised, such as people who are under-employed, or workless, or relatively unproductive due to under-investment, resources would end up used by the public sector that would otherwise have been used by the private sector. So the public spending would net add to GDP where it mobilises otherwise under-used resources, or where it ultimately uses those resources to produce more market value than the private sector. Again we’re talking market value here: as the public sector tends to supply the most essential services, it is likely that a given amount of public sector investment would produce more use value than the same amount of private sector spending, on average. The public sector responds to needs that are expressed democratically, with the requirements of every voter, in theory at least, meant to be given equal weight, where-as the demands that are best served by the market are those of the customers with the greatest ability to pay. However, GDP, for good or ill, isn’t measured in use value, so for now use value isn’t relevant.
The usual assumption is that the public sector will use any resources it acquires less efficiently than the private sector, in terms of market value output for market value input, because private sector activity is honed by competition. This isn’t, however, necessarily the case. The private sector has to competitively work for a profit, and continually seek to maximise that profit. That means not only that there’s an extra margin to pay for any services provided on a profit-making basis, but that businesses have to compete ruthlessly, to grow or die. That makes enterprises focus relentlessly on the just mentioned efficiency, but it also means that they are amoral, and will exploit customers, workers and suppliers if given the chance. Private enterprise has to prioritise its own short term concerns: co-operation and long term planning, or inadvertently conferring advantages to competitors, have to be avoided as impediments to the unforgiving necessity of continuously having to outgrow rivals. So whether to go for public or private spending depends on the context. If the market value to be generated by some spending is of a general benefit that cannot easily be monopolised and there-by monetised, and a public good such as street-lighting is the example often given here, or form an intervention that is part of a wider or longer-term plan coordinating different aspects of the economy, or utilise resources than the private sector would otherwise ignore, such as employing the workless and so bootstrapping an economy out of a slump, then public spending can be more efficient, in terms of bang for the buck in increased GDP, than private sector spending.
A telling example here is the development and deployment of the COVID vaccines. As knowledge is very difficult to monopolise and therefore monetise, and as Big Pharma did not want to waste its resources on preparing for a pandemic that might never happen, all the basic research here was done with public and charitable funding. When the pandemic hit, governments allowed various pharmaceutical companies to use that research to manufacture and distribute specific vaccines at pace, which they did efficiently and effectively, saving at least an estimated 20 million lives (according to an Imperial College London study cited here: www.covidvaccineresearch.org/news/covid-19-vaccines-prevented-20-million-deaths-worldwide-first-year-estimates-imperial). As part of the deal, though, the pharmaceutical companies were allowed exclusive patents on the vaccines. As it did not suit Big Pharma’s profits to allow poorer countries to manufacture their own versions of these vaccines, the pharmaceutical companies lobbied their governments to reject calls for a waiver of their patent rights. As a consequence millions more died unnecessarily (see for example www.globaljustice.org.uk/news/over-10000-people-die-every-day-the-uk-blocks-covid-vaccine-patent-waiver , which arrives at a rough estimate of 3.7 million). The private sector can be very effective at commercial production, but completely ineffective at managing any form of public good or addressing the needs of those who are unable to pay.
Let’s do a thought experiment. Conventional wisdom would have it that before we can, say, turn someone into an additional nurse, we have to grow the rest of the economy first, to generate the taxes needed to pay for the nurse. So, for example, a government, through the creation of the right incentives, including often tax cuts and deregulation, could encourage a stationary supply company in Slough to increase its paper-clips sales. That company would then perhaps hire more workers, or pay them more, thus allowing the government to receive more tax from those workers, or from the profits of the company itself, and through the VAT paid by customers when they buy the paper clips. Then, and only then, can the extra taxes pay for the additional nurse.
This is, of course, nonsense, that gaslights us into thinking of a whole range of public services as just “overheads” supported by a real, market economy, rather than as essential services and vital “economic goods” in their own right. The government should just go right ahead and pay for the nurse. It doesn’t even need to wait for tax receipts first, as logically governments have to create money before anyone can pay that money back to governments as taxes.
But is training the person in question to be a nurse a less efficient use of resources than, say, them becoming a manager at our stationary supply company? That seems very unlikely indeed. Clearly, in terms of improving our health, the nurse has considerable use value, but what about market value? Here we should note that the nurse helps to produce a succession of fixed patients, many of whom can return to being economically productive in their right.
On balance, it is very likely that less austerity would therefore have meant a higher GDP, allowing both increased tax returns and more disposable income, making our figures above pessimistic. Nevertheless, even making those very pessimistic assumptions, we would still be able to reverse austerity and meet our needs roughly as well as in 2008. It’s tight, and some economic growth, of the right kind, would be welcome to make it less of a squeeze, and to shield us against future shocks, but our needs have not rocketed away from our means.
Despite this we have chosen not even to meet our most basic needs, as we shall see next.
(For methodology and sources see Note 4)
Rising destitution.
Remember that when setting out the groundwork for this analysis we made the moral assumption that we need to avoid being selfish, meaning that we are obliged to respect the wants and needs of others as equally deserving as our own, provided they return the favour.
The upshot is that, at any time, we must prioritise the needs of the worst off. This moral assumption compels us to strive for equality by levelling up, because we have to regard everyone’s needs as equally deserving as our own.
Through this lens, our austere economy has failed miserably, because, since 2008, the worst off have become considerably worse off. This effect, though, isn’t immediately obvious if you look at the long term standard statistics on poverty, such as the percentage of households with absolutely low income or relatively low income, measured as people living in households with income below 60% of median income. In the absolute case, the median income used for comparison is from a base year, currently 2010/11, while the relative poverty figures use each year’s median income. In both cases, though, all figures are adjusted for inflation using the Consumer Price Index.
To be specific, in 2008/9 18% of individuals were receiving relatively low income, and 17% receiving absolutely low income, as compared to 17% and 15% respectively in 2023/4. ( www.gov.uk/government/statistics/households-below-average-income-for-financial-years-ending-1995-to-2024 ). On the face of it, that means poverty is improving, and that is consistent with what the income figures we cited above showed for the poorer half of the population too.
How then do we then explain that, according to the Trussell Trust, the number of emergency food parcels they distribute has gone from mere thousands in 2008 (barely showing up in this graph in section 2.2 of the House of Commons report here: researchbriefings.files.parliament.uk/documents/CBP-9209/CBP-9209.pdf) to 3.1 million in 2023/4, consistent with the general impression that food banks were barely “a thing” back then, but are now commonplace? Similarly, there has been a dramatic rise in homelessness over the same period, with the number of households in temporary accommodation increasing from 67 480 in Q4 2008 to 112 620 in Q4 2023 (according to the UK government homelessness figures here: assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/StatHomeless_202503) , a rise of 66.89%, or still a rise of 51.15% even after we remove underlying population growth?
This is the issue of increasing destitution, which has now drawn sufficient attention that attempts are being made to define and measure it more generally. For example, the charity the Joseph Rowntree Foundation now assesses “destitution” regularly, which it defines as “Destitution denotes the most severe form of material hardship. People are considered destitute if they have not been able to meet their most basic physical needs to stay warm, dry, clean and fed.” The charity estimates that “over the five years between 2017 and 2022, the number of households facing destitution more than doubled, with even higher increases for people overall and for children.”
These statistics on destitution do not extend back to 2008: hence our use of food parcel and homelessness figures above. It means, despite all the data above that we are not worse off as a nation than in 2008, and overall very likely slightly better off, our economy is doing a worse job in 2023 than in 2008 in terms of ensuring everyone’s basic needs are met, such as shelter and food. Our awareness of this issue is another reason why we often wonder “where did all the money go”? So how can we reconcile this with the apparent improvements in the low income statistics above?
The answer is that the inflation experienced by the poorest is different. During the post COVID and invasion of the Ukraine period, that has been very obviously the case with heating and food inflation usually outstripping most other items. In terms of another essential, which is rental costs, this has been a trend for far longer. As these are all necessities for survival, and the spending of the poorest has to be focussed primarily on necessities, the poorest are affected by high inflation in the “basics” more than anyone else.
The poorest almost always have to rent their own homes. So how did rental costs change between 2008 and 2023? The ONS Price Index of Private Rents only extends back to 2015, but the increase from Jan 2015 to December 2023 implies an average annual increase at a rate of 3.18%, or a total increase over fifteen years of 160.03%.
Similarly, the ONS collates statistics for household cost indices by income decile, and the “all items” index for the poorest tenth of the UK population, by income, shows costs increasing by 162.18% from April 2008 to April 2023. For comparison, general inflation in the economy from the financial year 2008/9 to 2023/4 was 143.14%.
The poorest are clearly experiencing much higher inflation. To illustrate what that means, taking the UK official government earning figures for households with below average income, to derive an annual income for the poorest tenth, this income, in terms of those poorest households’ actual purchasing power, in 2023 prices, fell from £13668.75 in 2008 to £12220.00 in 2023. That is a decrease of 10.60% and easily explains why people, already struggling to keep a roof over their heads and who may be falling ever deeper into debt, are being driven to food banks and into homelessness.
Above we discovered that, for someone in the top 1% of earners, in 2023 prices, average income rose from £444 512 in 2008 to £445 728 in 2023. That is with 2023 prices adjusted for general inflation across the economy. As the richest have been much less affected by the price increases in life’s basics, and instead often see the flip side of that, such as receiving rather than paying those higher rents, we have likely seen a situation where, in terms of effective purchasing power, the rich have got richer and the poorest, those most in need, who should morally be society’s priority, have got poorer.
Despite the fact that there is no evidence the UK is, in any sense, going broke, with us, instead, having had the capacity, as a society as a whole, to end austerity at any point, we were less willing to feed and shelter the entirety of our population in 2023 than in 2008. This was clearly not a matter of economic necessity, but a political choice. Not only is there a strong economic case for ending austerity, but the moral case for ending austerity measures such as the housing benefit freeze and the two child benefit cap, seems overwhelming.
(For methodology and sources see Note 5)
Could we go broke in the longer term?
So, in terms of public spending, our society clearly has critical unmet needs. In practice, we were never, as a society as a whole, broke and could have resolved that problem with some combination of money creation, increased public borrowing to invest and higher, and more progressive, taxes. As austerity is self-defeating, our economy would then, almost certainly, have been healthier as a result, plus we would have properly functioning public services and much less desperation.
We have seen, though, that our needs are likely to grow faster than our population for the foreseeable future, because of our ageing population and the increasing costs of healthcare. Some per capita growth is therefore required if we want to avoid continually increasing public spending as a share of GDP, including addressing the concern that such a trend is not sustainable indefinitely. However, it has to be the right kind of growth. We need growth directly targetted to meet real human needs and that lowers the carbon intensity of our society. The simple answer to the growth or “de-growth to save a habitable planet” argument is that it depends on exactly what is growing..
What pace of growth are we talking about here? As just stated, let’s assume that we want to keep public spending as a constant proportion of the economy. In practice some temporary growth in proportional terms may be justifiable as the Baby Boom birth cohort passes through old age, but let’s keep this constraint as described, at least for the purposes of illustration. Then let’s calculate the average economic growth needed to match the growth in public spending from 2008, in 2023 prices, to 2023, but not to actual public spending in 2023, which was highly deficient, but to our projected, and arguably pessimistically high, non-austere public spending. This means our GDP would need to grow by 2% a year to keep pace with our needs. We should remove population growth from that figure, as otherwise we could cheat and “grow” our economy just by importing more people. When we do that, we find we would need to grow our per capita GDP by 1.35% a year. That is not historically very high, but it is nearly three times the actual average annual growth in per capita GDP over this fifteen years, which is 0.49%.
So how can we grow our economy? It would overwhelm this article to even attempt to make detailed plans here, but a few points should be obvious.
Economic growth is about using existing resources as efficiently as possible to create new resources. Though this means focussing on what is termed the supply side of the economy, use and misuse of resources often happens because of issues of demand. The right level and pattern of demand can stimulate resources to be used in a way that is broadly beneficial across the population, Both austerity and inequality, two phenomena currently so causally inter-related it is sometimes difficult to prise them apart, damage demand in ways that discourages an efficient use of resources. A concentration in spending power among the very richest can stifle demand and result in under-utilisation of resources, as the richest save a much larger proportion of their income than the poorest, and often do so off-shore or in safe havens such as gold, or in speculation on the stock markets, rather than as genuine investment in the domestic economy. The spending the richest actually do can also cause a misallocation of resources, perhaps directing productive capacity towards luxuries rather than essentials or meaning that critical resources, such as housing, get hoarded. Similarly, austerity can mean that investing in essential “public goods”, such as the health of the population, gets neglected, or that coordination problems, such as mobilising resources in such a way to grow the economy as a whole, don’t get solved.
So reversing austerity, and reducing inequality by levelling up, starting with the poorest, in itself will promote economic growth, and most likely growth of a more responsible kind that better meets general needs. Everyone would feel the benefits of such growth, and not just the richest.
The main solution was half-accidentally already arrived at in the mid 20th Century, with the New Deal in the USA and especially with the subsequent war economies, which ended the long stagnation of the Great Depression and gradually initiated a long period of economic boom. We need an “industrial strategy” and the stimulus of public investment targetted to achieve that strategy.
That “industrial strategy” should concentrate on addressing fundamental resource bottlenecks, and do so with direct public investment rather than tinkering with incentives and deregulation or re-regulation in the hope we can cross our fingers and let markets pick up the slack. Very often we are talking here about coordination problems and public goods issues that markets can never address.
Firstly, we should reduce our crippling energy costs. Breaking the link of energy prices with gas prices is an obvious first step. Then we need to expand our energy generating capacity. Not wasting the second highest tidal range in the world by building a tidal reef across the Bristol Channel is something that is long overdue. Some of the energy generated could then be used to supply the nearby steelworks of south Wales with cheap, green hydrogen, allowing a renaissance of British steel making in a sustainable, carbon neutral, form. Expanding wind power: the cheapest form of energy generation in the UK, is equally obvious. We should also consider more geothermal energy, including newly emerging possibilities for deep geothermal.
Then we should get on with building new homes. Here we should consider using new approaches to make efficiency improvements in construction, including automated 3D printing and, as we did after World War Two, greater use of prefabrication. There is no reason to carry on building homes like we did in the Middle Ages, so there is considerable scope for improvements in productivity and efficiency. The new homes should also be cheaper to run, with better insulation and built in energy generation such as solar or heat pumps, and rainwater capture to reduce water charges. We could also ensure that these new homes are better adapted for multi-generation use, allowing people to stay in their homes longer and so reduce demands on social care, for example by specifying that all staircases should be designed in such a way as to allow cheap retro-fitting with stair-lifts as and when needed.
Similarly, we need to get food inflation under control by modernising food production and better ensuring food security. Livestock farming uses considerable amounts of land and water, and is carbon intensive, so we could, for example, encourage more precision fermented, factory-produced, food by mandating that all public sector catering contracts have to replace meat with these products, giving this sector of our economy a huge boost, while livestock farmers could be financially incentivised to shift their land over to use for carbon sequestration, recreation and nature restoration.
We should resolve our multiple public health crises investing more in the NHS and taking other steps too. We would train more medical staff, and restore NHS capital investment, equipping the NHS with technologies best able to drive its efficiency, such as AI to assist with patient monitoring and diagnostics and more digitally-enabled services that could be accessed from home. We should also create a publicly owned pharmaceutical and biomedical treatments company. That can do multiple things for us: boost still further our already world-leading biotech industry, reduce our reliance on often US based Big Pharma, make cheaper drugs and treatments available to the NHS and concentrate efforts on finding cures and extending “healthspan”, rather than simple lifespan, something that Big Pharma will tend never to prioritise, as creating long-term dependency on their products is much more profitable. Such an enterprise should also dramatically improve our defences against the next pandemic and antibiotic resistant infection, other areas Big Pharma inevitably neglects.
We should create a National Care Service, ending bed-blocking in the NHS and saving multiple local authorities from bankruptcy. This should be cheaper to run than the current almost entirely privatised system, because of economies of scale and the elimination of profit taking, plus reduced property related costs, as well as improving standards of care.
We would restore community recreational facilities and per capita funding for youth services and mental health, while, with an actual vision of a liveable future backed with real investment, perhaps, with some hope restored, the mental health of all us can improve, reducing long term sickness, welfare costs and pressure on the NHS.
All of this requires the right skill gaps to be plugged, which brings us onto another economic fundamental: to create new services providing vocational training, both to young people and adults seeking retaining. This would increase the value of one of our most key resources: ourselves.
What we should not do: continue with austerity, scapegoat migrants, abandon our climate change commitments or attempt to deal with the temporary problem of heightened elder-care by having more babies.
After 15 years it is totally obvious that austerity hasn’t worked: in fact it has crippled our public services and scarred our economy.
We could blame migrants, except for the fact that, according to the experts in the field such as the Oxford Migration Observatory, the overall long term fiscal impact of migration is most likely roughly zero (migrationobservatory.ox.ac.uk/resources/briefings/the-fiscal-impact-of-immigration-in-the-uk). Whenever we increase the population we increase the demand for everything our economy provides, from houses to medical services, but it’s often forgotten, or deliberately overlooked, that we also increase supply: the number of workers, say builders and doctors, and the number of tax-payers. Given that migrants tend to be young adults, in the short term, before they have their own kids and themselves grow old, their economic impact is likely to be positive. If we are to reconstruct our economy, migration, along with retraining those of us already here, it will also be essential to quickly plug skill gaps.
We could abandon all efforts to decarbonise our economy. There are a few issues with that one. Firstly, it may not save any money: for example with wind power now the cheapest way to generate energy in the UK. Secondly, we fail to build the industries of the future, so becoming uncompetitive on the global stage in the longer term. Thirdly, we betray the rest of humanity and make civilisation destroying climate catastrophe much more likely. However small our emissions are now compared to, say, China’s, as the first nation to industrialise we have used up, relative to the size of our population, a disproportionate amount of humanity’s carbon budget. We are also still, despite our difficulties, one of the richer nations on Earth. If we fail to keep our carbon commitments, why should the rest of the world even attempt to do so? If everyone does the same, and “defects” (we are back to coordination problems here) then we are quite simply doomed. The problems we are already experiencing, storm damaged buildings, floods, wildfires, heatwaves and water-shortages, then compound with massive movements of people, as some regions of the planet become uninhabitable, with harvest failures, lethal heat-waves and mega-droughts, leading to global unrest and escalating warfare that sooner or later turns nuclear. All of which would be rather apocalyptic for economic growth, as well as everything else.
We could have more babies, to improve the ratio of younger people to older people. Again there are issues here, not least of which is who it is who actually has to have the babies?Then there’s the environmental cost of more humans in a relatively high consuming country. Finally, as a “solution” this actually adds to our “needs” for a couple of decades: the “babies” don’t turn into productive adults for many years. So, far from being a solution, this actually adds to our challenges. If, instead, stopping fertility rates falling further is the concern, it should be noted that people may choose not to have children when struggling to keep a roof over their heads, or when they have no hope for the future.
How do we raise the money to “bootstrap” our economy back into responsible, moderate growth?
In the end, the measures above pay for themselves by creating further and fair economic growth, but where do we get the initial “seed capital” from to fund those measures in the first place? How can we, as it were, “pull ourselves up by our own boot-laces”.
Firstly, we can no longer simply create the money, like we did with Quantitative Easing (QE) when the Bank of England created money and used it overwhelmingly to buy back government debt. Originally, QE was meant as a time limited intervention just to prop up the banking system and keep money flowing after the crash. In the end, to deal with first the Financial Crisis, then COVID, and a bit of Brexit, nearly a trillion pounds was created in this way over more than a decade, with QE being used to directly finance government spending, as government debt was immediately bought back after issue. Unfortunately, though, the current situation is inflationary, where-as those crises were deflationary. Right now, at a time where we are still significantly missing targets on inflation, increasing the money supply in this way would risk undermining confidence in sterling and fuelling yet more inflation.
However, recently the Bank of England hasn’t been doing QE, but it’s opposite, Quantitative Tightening (QT). Now that means selling the government debt it owns back to the private sector, in other words effectively borrowing the money again, as then the public sector no longer owns its owns debts, and cancelling out the money so received.
Governments like to pretend that isn’t really increasing the debts, because the debts bought back by the Bank of England were retained within the total of government debt. Arguably, QE is best thought of as “deferred borrowing”.
At the end of the day, though, it is likely that there was so much “deferred borrowing” that the consequences of turning all that currently Bank of England owned debt back into real debt will be disastrous, and we’d be better of keeping that debt deferred infinitely, perhaps forever, and not cancelling out all that money. After all, it isn’t as if the crises ever stopped happening, and, as we said above, unless inflation is again replaced by potential deflation, re-creating the funds destroyed by doing further QE can’t happen because it would be too risky.
Sadly, right now the Bank of England is adhering to a target of turning £100 billion of deferred borrowing into real borrowing each year. By June 2025, the government debts that were still owned by the Bank of England were down to 590 £ billion. (https://www.bankofengland.co.uk/asset-purchase-facility/2025/2025-q2)
This means a few things that have extremely deleterious effects on the public finances and tend to lock in austerity. The most obvious is that, once the debts are returned to the markets, we have to pay interest on those debts. The second is that, as the real debt piles up, the government becomes less credit-worthy, so less able to borrow to invest, rather than simply borrow to cancel out QE. That, and the simple amount of debt on sale, pushes up the interest rates the government has to pay, so not only do we have to start to pay interest on debts that were previously effectively interest free because they were held at the Bank of England, but we also have to pay a higher interest rate on any new borrowing. (Note that new borrowing also includes what the Bank of England needs to raise to pay off the principal of government debts it owns that mature, with the money borrowed then again simply being cancelled out). Finally, because the interest on government debts, or “gilts” as they are known, is usually fixed, the higher the interest rates, the lower the re-sale of the gilts. Therefore the Bank of England is also making significant losses when it sells these government debts, bought by QE, back to the markets. These losses are already in the tens of billions, and the Office of Budgetary Responsibility estimating that the losses associated with QE and QT will eventually total roughly £63 billion (https://obr.uk/box/the-lifetime-impact-of-quantitative-easing-and-quantitative-tightening).
This is a crazy, dogmatic policy that starts to look like a deliberate attempt to undermine the public sector and force “permanent austerity”, on the part of a Bank of England far too close to our financial institutions and the richest in society. Nor is the Bank of England doing this to fight inflation, as it says of its own QT programme that “the impact on activity and inflation is also likely to have been small” (Quantitative Tightening: House of Commons Committee Report publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm5804/cmselect/cmtreasy/219/report.html)
We should stop QT immediately, if it isn’t already too late. Creating another approximately £0.5 trillion of real public debt just to cancel out QE is cruel and irresponsible.
The other thing we can do is to reduce the interest we pay on the commercial bank reserves at the Bank of England, by tiering the interest rates in the way already done by the European Central Bank (ECB). This measure can be linked to stopping QT, because one of the arguments made for doing QT, and reversing QE, is that all the money created by QE really sits in these reserves. These reserves are actually the ultimate “electronic money” backing all other money in our economy, as it is these reserves that the commercial banks use to “settle” with each other at the end of each day of banking. Reversing QE therefore reduces the size of the reserves. That can have some risks, like increasing the chance of a run on the banks, but it does mean the Bank of England has to pay less interest on the reserves. That means that provided the interest we now have to pay on gilts sold back to the markets is lower than the “base rate” we pay on those commercial bank reserves, and that is often the case as the interest on many of those gilts was fixed at a time when interest rates were lower, then we can actually reduce our interest payments.
That argument loses its cogency when we realize that we don’t have to pay interest on those reserves to the commercial banks in the first place. Arguably, we could even be justified in charging the banks for the use of this facility, just like commercial banks now charge customers for some current accounts. The Bank of England only started paying interest in reserves in 2006, and does so for two reasons: to increase the stability of the banking system by encouraging each bank to hold at least a minimum amount of reserves, and to influence interest rates charged generally, by setting a floor for rates. Both those objectives could be achieved, though, by paying zero or a lower rate of interest on a base level of reserves, and a higher rate of interest on any reserves above that base, i.e. tiering the interest rates in a similar way to already done by, for example, the ECB and the Bank of Japan. According to the Institute for Fiscal Studies in 2022, tiering the interest rates would have have saved “between around £30 billion and £45 billion over each of the next two financial years ” (ifs.org.uk/publications/quantitative-easing-monetary-policy-implementation-and-public-finances).
Again, we can only deduce that the Bank of England is far too close to the City of London.
According to the same Treasury breakdown of spending we used above, since 2008 interest payments on the public debt have been the faster growing component of the budget, increasing, in 2023 prices, from 70.24 £ billion in 2008/9 to 126.6 £ billion in 2023/4, or by 80.25%. By contrast, health spending increased by 42.48% and social protection spending, which includes the bulk of welfare, by 25.09%. This reflects increasing public sector debt as a result of a succession of crises and, arguably and ironically, austerity itself. The state of the public finances is another reason why we so often ask “where has the money gone”, even though, as a society as a whole, we are, as we have seen, arguably richer than in 2008, and even though the bulk of UK public debt is held domestically by institutions such as pension funds, that is where it is not still actually owned by the Bank of England, so broadly we kind of owe the money to ourselves. We have to bring future interest payments down by tiering the interest we pay on the reserves, stopping QT and ensuring that when we do decide to borrow it isn’t to cancel out QE, but to invest, so should generate a return greater than any future interest payments. (To find out more about QT and QE go here: gezwinstanley.wordpress.com/2024/10/28/infrequently-asked-questions-about-quantitative-tightening-that-you-were-never-even-meant-to-ask ).
Then there is the obvious question of a wealth tax. As we have already noted, there has been a significant growth in wealth inequality in the UK since the Financial Crash. A lot of that increase in wealth inequality is down to increases in valuations of certain assets, such as property and shares, itself partly due to the money pumped into the economy by Quantitative Easing, so really something of a “windfall”. Now, wealth as a quantity is a “level” not a “flow”, so we can’t repeatedly tax wealth without, eventually, running out of wealth to tax. Of course, wealth begets wealth, so we could counter here that we can in fact tax wealth repeatedly provided we do so at less than the rate of real growth of wealth. The complication here is that growth in wealth, as we have seen, takes two forms: profit, which is a flow not a level so therefore can be taxed repeatedly, as income, and increases in how assets are valued. Increases in valuations can’t be taxed repeatedly because the the only way to realize that gain is to sell assets, and the underlying assets aren’t actually increasing: therefore, again, if we repeatedly taxed those assets we would run out of assets to tax.
It could be argued, though, that the point of a wealth tax isn’t just to fund the repair of public services and the economy generally, but to directly reduce extreme wealth inequality as a goal in its own right. To that it should be countered that there are less crude ways to do that than a wealth tax, which simply attempts to siphon off the value of assets above a certain level continually, and that would be to share the ownership and control of the mechanisms that generate wealth, for example, through democratically managed public ownership and workers’ cooperatives. It is simpler, and less illiberal, to ensure that wealth is fairly distributed as it is created, to do “pre-distribution”, rather than allow wealth to become ever more concentrated in the hands of the richest and then repeatedly have to attempt to prise it out of their politically well-connected and media controlling hands using “redistribution”.
Right now, though, a one-off wealth tax seems like the most sensible way to raise money to invest (for example, as proposed by the, in part, LSE and Warwick University funded UK wealth tax commission: www.ukwealth.tax). Note that the sums raised will have to be invested, to improve how effectively our economy can meet our needs in the long term, and must not be used on day to day spending. If we ever did that we would just fritter the money away, not solve our underlying problems, and then be back in exactly the same mess again tomorrow.
To meet our day to day needs, and to keep a lid on inequality, and possibly raise some more money to invest, we would align taxes on “passive income”, the income generated by wealth that we touched upon above, with those on income generated by work: for example making the tax rates on capital gains the same as those for income tax. We would make our tax system less regressive (meaning poorer people can end paying a higher proportion of tax than richer people) by increasing the lower rate of national insurance paid on income above £967 a week to match the higher rate paid on weekly income below that amount (something most people don’t even realize exists). Richard Murphy, the Professor Emeritus of Accounting Practice at the Univeristy of Sheffiled and a tax campaigner, has a range of such proposals here taxingwealth.uk. In 2024, Professor Murphy estimated that the national insurance change alone could raise £12.5 billion a year.
Though indefinite taxation of wealth as a stock is not sustainable, there is a case for taxing use of uncreated wealth. Anyone who is exclusively exploiting natural resources, such as the land, should compensate everyone else in the community for the deprivation of the same opportunity, really as a basic upshot of the moral requirement to respect the wants and needs of others as equal to our own. This applies even if the rest of the community could not currently exploit the resource in question because they lack access to the necessary investment or specific technologies, as to rule otherwise would then simply compound pre-existing inequalities. Therefore, the users of uncreated wealth should pay a form of rent to everyone else. This means that initiatives such as a land value tax should be seriously considered, Such a tax would also allow the community to better ensure that its uncreated wealth is used in a way that is generally beneficial, by adjusting the tax to be paid appropriately, potentially even turning the tax negative to subsidise food security or environmental restoration.
We could use a land value tax, or possibly a local income tax, to raise more money than the currently regressive council tax. Council tax bands scale far less rapidly than property prices, so council tax tends to bear down heavier on the poorer. Similarly, a local corporation tax could be considered to reduce the business rate burden on smaller companies.
Ideally we could raise more, and do so more progressively, by shifting taxes to the companies making the highest profits. To facilitate that, we could work more closely with like-minded nations to create economic blocs that stop the race to the bottom in taxes such as corporation tax, and force transnational corporatisations to pay more tax. This is another argument in favour of cooperating more with overseas partners such as the EU, on top of those relating to undoing some of the damage done to our trade by Brexit. As all of this requires regulatory alignment with the EU, and we are better off helping to make those regulations rather than being a mere rule-taker, we should seriously consider negotiating a deal to rejoin in some form, and working again from the inside.
So where did all the money go?
If we take that question to mean where did all the economic growth go, compared to what was happening prior to 2008, so instead we got very slow growth instead, well that was down to de-industrialisation coupled with over-reliance on finance capital, austerity, rising inequality, Brexit and the after-effects of COVID and Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine, especially our over-dependence on global fossil fuel markets.
If we take that to mean resources and wealth, then the “money” hasn’t gone anywhere, with the total value of real resources most likely growing in per capita terms. Wealth, though, denotes who can “own” those resources and here wealth has gone to the already richest.
If we consider income, then overall income per head has increased and income equality has actually improved slightly, but if we look at purchasing power then inequality has increased significantly when we compare the richest to the poorest.
If we take “where did all the money go” as a lament about our public finances, then the issue is the richest lobbying and conniving not to pay more taxes at a time when repeated crises and increasing underlying need has put pressure on public spending, not beyond our capacity as a nation to support but beyond the willingness of the richest to pay.
Perhaps the problem with low growth is not so much the low growth in itself but the way that the super-rich, desperate to still out-grow each other, then become even meaner and more ruthless: ever less willing to pay taxes, ever keener to shrink the public sector and ever more determinedly promoting the idea that the only way to restore growth is for everyone else to let their greed run amok. Basically, when growth is negligible it is no longer possible for the super-rich to hide increasing inequality, where they can take a larger, and even possibly growing, share of the expanding pie but most people don’t notice, because their share is getting a little bit bigger too. That means they have to resort to other distraction tactics, such as scapegoating the sick, the poor, the foreign and the culturally non-conformist, all the while attempting to divert the anger caused partly by their own actions in a way that ironically boosts their wealth and power still further. There’s even a new term for that: “pluto-populism”. The upshot is a threat to democracy itself.
Conclusions
The UK is not broke. The UK is not going broke.
Per capita economic growth has happened, but slowly. The main issue with our resources and wealth is not currently the depletion of either but increasingly unequal distribution.
In future, our increasing needs, per head of the population, could start to outrun such a slow rate of economic growth, and we do need to buffer ourselves from the inevitable crises to come, so driving some modest, responsible and fair per capita economic growth would be sensible, especially in the health sector, to better meet basic needs, such as housing, and to protect our security of supply when it comes to energy, food and some areas of industry.
Finally, we should reject, not only the lie that the UK is broke or is going broke, but the very framing that, were the situation to arise, what we should sacrifice first are the needs of the poorest and most desperate, that the very first things we should cut are publicly funded healthcare or the welfare safety net. As we have seen, morally that is abhorrent. Those are the very last needs we should abandon. When we next encounter genuine shortages, the moral thing to do is to triage and ration, just as we did in World War Two when the Nazis were attempting to starve us by sinking our Atlantic convoys. It’s a very uncertain world, and we should never accept the notion that we solve a resource crisis by letting the poorest perish and freeing up the greed of the rich to get yet richer.
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Methodology and Sources
Note 1:
GDP deflators used to convert money values into 2023 prices unless others stated: UK government Statistics: https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/gdp-deflators-at-market-prices-and-money-gdp-june-2025-quarterly-national-accounts
Office of National Statisitcs, Population Figures: https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/populationandmigration/populationestimates/datasets/populationestimatesforukenglandandwalesscotlandandnorthernireland
UK Government Statistics: Inactivity Rates: https://www.ons.gov.uk/employmentandlabourmarket/peopleinwork/employmentandemployeetypes/timeseries/i46d/lms
Note 2:
Wealth figures: World Inequality Database (WID): https://wid.world/country/united-kingdom/
Note that the WID is the product of the World Inequality Lab, which “is composed of about forty people (co-directors, coordinators, research fellows, research assistants, staff). It is based primarily at the Paris School of Economics and the University of Berkeley, California. The World Inequality Lab works in close coordination with more than 200 researchers – the WID Fellows – based in institutions around the world”.
WID accessed in September 2025, at which point all GBP figures were given in 2023 price terms.
Note 3:
GDP figures were sourced from here: https://www.ons.gov.uk/economy/grossdomesticproductgdp/timeseries/ybha/pn2
GDP deflators used were as cited above.
Per capita income was taken from https://wid.world/country/united-kingdom/, multiplied by the ONS population figures, cited above, to derive UK income totals for 2008 and 2023, with that total income then being apportioned to the top 1% or bottom 50% of the population according to the income shares also sourced from https://wid.world/country/united-kingdom/. Then those top 1% and bottom 50% income shares were then divided by 1% or 50% of the relevant UK population totals to derive the per capita incomes cited. Note that, as the per capita income figures given in the World Inequality Database are for all people aged 20 or over, the UK population totals used in these calculations were all consistently those for individuals aged 20 or over.
https://wid.world/country/united-kingdom/ was as accessed in September 2025, at which point all GBP figures were given in 2023 price terms.
Note 4:
The HM Treasury breakdowns of public spending are from https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/6874fa6f92691289bdb7d393/Public_Expenditure_Statistical_Analyses_2025.pdf, table 4.2
The 2008 personal social services spend was taken from table 5.2 of Public expenditure statistical analyses 2009 – GOV.UK .
The population and GDP deflator figures used were as cited above.
Source of average long term figure for annual growth in NHS spending: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC6616184/
Note 5:
ONS Price Index of Private Rents: https://www.ons.gov.uk/economy/inflationandpriceindices/datasets/priceindexofprivaterentsukmonthlypricestatistics
A weekly income figure by decile were taken from here: households with below average income, for financial years ending 1995 to 2024, at https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/households-below-average-income-for-financial-years-ending-1995-to-2024, and multiplied by 52 to derive annual figures. The specific table used was “2.1ts Decile” from income-values-and-inequality-measures-hbai-1994-95-2023-24-tables.ods.