Policy initiatives, setbacks, and reforms are nicely displayed. But we
learn less about the personal rivalries and perspectives that drove the
place forward.
If Gordon Richardson reestablished gubernatorial authority, Robin
Leigh-Pemberton assembled and nurtured a world-class team (including Andrew
Crockett, later head of the Bank for International Settlements), George
Blunden cleared away obstacles, and the goods were delivered by Eddie
George and Mervyn King, whose strategic transformation of the Bank’s
capabilities is impossible to exaggerate. We do not, however, get much of
the parade’s color.
Unbelievable though it is looking back, Whitehall fiercely resisted Eddie
becoming deputy governor, giving way only with the stricture that this was
not a route to the top (a message delivered via me as the then-governor’s
private secretary). Nor will the reader get much of a sense of the
decade-and-a-half-long internal struggle, verging on civil war, over the
Bank’s role in financial stability, which reached its (current) conclusion
only after the 2008 crisis.
James has, then, triumphed in delivering a Bank of England–centered account
of British economic policy in the late 20th century. He has also laid the
groundwork for a badly needed political-cum-
sociological study of the deeper stories around this institutional renewal.
Oh, about the title. Shortly after independence was granted, New Labour’s
economic team, flush with power and glory, came for lunch. As part of
“modernization,” you should get rid of your stewards’ 18th century livery,
they said. The Bank can be world-class without ditching all its traditions,
we responded. After all, “modern” is not quite the right word; the two
generations that refashioned the Bank were not chasing fashion, but
stability. On that, we were all united, which was the really big thing.