It’s a tale as old as time, or at least as old as modern politics: the grand announcement, the dazzling headline figure, and the crushing reality that often lags far behind. We’ve seen it time and again, from Gordon Brown’s seemingly colossal trillion-dollar aid package at the 2009 G20 summit – a figure that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a cleverly repackaged mix of old promises and wishful thinking – to more recent claims of multi-billion-pound investments in UK AI that similarly struggled to stand up to scrutiny. A recent Guardian investigation, for instance, peeled back the layers on these AI claims, revealing that much of the supposed “new” investment was anything but. We’re talking existing data centers being rented out, not built from scratch; a highly anticipated supercomputer site still a distant dream, not a concrete reality; promises of future investments that may never materialize; and job creation figures that bore little resemblance to the actual landscape. The impressive numbers splashed across headlines often mask a far less inspiring, and sometimes entirely fabricated, underlying truth.
This pattern, though disheartening, shouldn’t come as a complete surprise to anyone who takes a moment to consider how the real world, and especially the economy, genuinely operates. Companies, particularly those making multi-billion-pound decisions, don’t suddenly commit to massive investments simply because a minister wants a photo op next to a piece of tech equipment. While government policies undoubtedly play a role, sometimes even a significant one, their effects are typically a slow burn – gradual, often indirect, and incredibly difficult to pinpoint as the sole outcome of any single government initiative. The influence of policy is more like a subtle current guiding a ship than a sudden gust of wind. However, the world of politics thrives on instant gratification, on the spectacle of announcements. And nothing makes an announcement pop quite like a massive, eye-catching number. This creates a powerful incentive for governments to spin any positive development, any company expanding its UK operations for whatever reason, as a direct triumph of their industrial policy. Existing plans, potential future endeavors, and even vague possibilities are all conveniently bundled together, assigned a grand total, and presented as irrefutable proof that the government’s strategy is not just working, but soaring.
The motivation behind this penchant for inflated figures and triumphant pronouncements is twofold. The most immediate and obvious driver is the inherent political need to appear productive, to constantly project an image of action and achievement. In today’s relentless news cycle, particularly within the confines of places like No 10 Downing Street, there’s an almost insatiable hunger for a “good news” story to fill each day, and a big, impressive number is an easy way to satisfy that craving. But there’s a deeper, more subtle factor at play: the complicated, almost love-hate relationship that the UK policymaking establishment – ministers, civil servants, and even media commentators – has with numbers. Many, perhaps even most, within these circles aren’t particularly adept at scientific or economic literacy. Yet, this very discomfort often leads to a bizarre outcome: when presented with a seemingly precise figure, their natural inclination isn’t skepticism, but an excessive, almost uncritical confidence. The underlying assumptions, the methodologies behind these numbers, are rarely subjected to rigorous scrutiny, especially when the figure conveniently aligns with a particular political narrative or desired outcome.
We saw a classic illustration of this phenomenon recently with Shabana Mahmood’s assertion that without her “earned settlement” proposals, the UK would face a “£10bn drain on our public finances and further strain on public services.” This claim was a masterful blend of deliberate obfuscation and outright inaccuracy. For starters, the care workers she proposed to expel are far from a “cost”; in reality, they represent a significant fiscal benefit for the country over the next two decades. Furthermore, her proposals wouldn’t even come close to saving the stated amount. This isn’t to say that all politicians are intentionally misleading; rather, it highlights how easily an appealing, precise-sounding number can be wielded with little regard for its factual basis, especially when it serves a political agenda. And politicians are by no means the sole culprits in perpetuating this cycle of numerical exaggeration. The media, too, plays a pivotal role. Any journalist trying to pitch a policy story knows the inevitable first question from an editor will be: “What’s new?” And the almost equally inevitable second question: “What’s the number?”
This problem is further exacerbated, particularly when it comes to high-profile government announcements or ongoing controversies, by the fact that such stories are often covered by political correspondents, rather than specialists with a deep understanding of the subject matter. These political journalists, while skilled in their field, often simply lack the technical expertise to truly comprehend, let alone critically dissect, the complex figures presented to them in a press release. The kind of rigorous, investigative follow-up that uncovered the truth behind the AI investment claims, for example, is unfortunately a rare commodity. The consequences of this continued reliance on inflated numbers and flimsy announcements are substantial and far-reaching. Firstly, it severely distorts the public’s understanding of what government policy can realistically achieve. While governments undeniably influence the business environment through crucial levers like infrastructure, regulation, immigration policies, education, and research funding, these influences operate over extended periods and rarely yield immediate, easily quantifiable results. To pretend otherwise is to feed a false narrative about the speed and directness of policy impact.
Secondly, and perhaps most damagingly, this practice fundamentally erodes public trust. When grand announcements repeatedly fail to materialize into tangible reality, skepticism grows not only about the specific claim in question but about the broader efficacy of economic policy and the government’s capacity to genuinely effect change. This widespread skepticism is particularly potent in a nation like the UK, where productivity growth has stubbornly remained weak for over a decade and living standards have stagnated – a clear testament to the disconnect between bold pronouncements and lived experience. Finally, and perhaps most critically, this focus on flashy announcements distracts ministers and civil servants from the truly demanding, often unglamorous, work of crafting effective economic policies. Announcing a grand investment is undeniably easy; creating the stable, supportive conditions that genuinely encourage and sustain real investment is an infinitely more arduous and complex undertaking. This isn’t merely an issue confined to economic policy; it speaks to the very heart of governance itself. Even before its eventual unraveling, the Conservative government elected in 2019 exemplified what one might call “announcement-led government” to an extreme, with many ministers seemingly believing their job was complete once a press release had been issued. While Keir Starmer has promised a departure from this approach, vowing to focus on “long-term strategy, not the short-term distractions that can animate Westminster,” and envisioning a “mission-led government” mobilizing collective efforts towards enduring goals, the current reality suggests that the announcements, for now, continue to flow faster than tangible results.