Bryn Jones asks is this Neoliberalism reversed or is it lipstick on the pig?
Andy Burnham’s repeated ambitions to reverse the Thatcherite neoliberalism “of the past 40 years” fuelled his rise to power and rejuvenation of a moribund Labour Party – and particularly his pledges to re-assert “control” over enterprises that ought to operate in the public interest. Yet what he means by “control” is unclear and becoming increasingly suspicious. Public ownership, such as the post-World War 2 nationalised industries, seems confined to special cases like railways. Plans for control of the much-criticised UK electricity distribution system managed by National Grid plc suggest a more likely model. It’s one which has a similar logic to the urban redevelopment programme from his time as Metro mayor of Greater Manchester. If this will be the pattern, then it is highly unlikely that Burnham’s government’s actions and policies will recover meaningful control. There will therefore be no serious reversal of neoliberalism. Bad news for prospects of a more equal, democratic and sustainable society.
As Greater Manchester mayor, Burnham was credited with revitalising its city centre and creating superior economic growth to other UK regions. Although some of the credit, if it is such, should also go to Burnham’s predecessors and to the leaders of Manchester City Council. These pioneered urban renewal policies that he adopted. They drew in wealthy investment funds; principally the Mubadala, Abu Dhabi’s $330 billion sovereign wealth fund.
The strength of ties among the emirates’ investment arms was revealed by the recent Premier League investigation that condemned the Emirati-owned Manchester City FC and its Abu Dhabi United Group (ADUG) for financial deceits breaking Premier League rules. The League’s judgement could cost MCFC and ultimately, ADUG millions in fines and footballing sanctions. It shook Burnham’s pedestal after he equivocated on MCFC’s guilt. This was followed by Abu Dhabi’s reported threat that punitive sanctions could jeopardise its further large-scale investment in the UK. The unfolding crisis shows the UK’s dependence on and lack of control over branches of a global “shadow banking” system (see “Global Behemoths: How Shadow Banks Govern our Lives”, Chartist, 340 May/June 2026) that includes Abu Dhabi sovereign wealth funds.
This is a view confirmed by the actual achievements of wealth funds’ inner Manchester investments. ADUG was heavily involved in redevelopments near and around the football stadium. Proliferating high-rise apartments for high-earners glitzed the Manchester skyline. But independent reports, like that from Sheffield University’s Professor Goulding and his colleagues, conclude that net social and public benefits have been negative. Affordable housing additions have been minute. Opportunities to acquire public authority claims on rental income were foregone. Assets were sold cheaply to developers. Land deals were done without an open bidding process. Property prices in central Manchester rose by 81% in ten years. With rentals up to 30% higher than in central Birmingham, lower-income groups were driven to the suburbs.
Such trends reflect neoliberalism’s evolution since the 1980s and ’90s heyday of corporate expansion and classic market governance involving institutions like the London Stock Exchange. That nexus in which Thatcherite privatisations and speculation ran riot has now shrivelled significantly. Big corporates have switched to New York listings and new company flotations have become rarer. Recent reports show more LSE firms are being taken over by foreign entities or devoured by private equity capital from the shadow system. More generally, the current neoliberal system is driven, not by publicly-trading corporations or traditional banks, but by financial behemoths in the shadow banking system: sovereign wealth funds, like Abu Dhabi’s; or opaque private equity and asset management funds (AMFs). These types may overlap, but AMFs in particular have led the exodus from investment in corporate stock towards investment in physical assets: residential and business properties and public infrastructure.
These are prized because, unlike the more volatile returns from corporate shares, asset incomes – the “rents” – can be fixed and predictable with a little help from governments. When investing in government programmes, like the UK’s Private Finance Initiative for hospital and schools, they insisted the contracts de-risk returns: guaranteeing future profit levels. Burnham’s “control” of the electricity distribution system and National Grid looks set to do the same.
The grid lacks the capacity to connect a queue of energy generators, many of them wind and solar. Labour says that a new body, the Great British Grid (GBG), will resolve this by seeding public funds to attract private capital to invest in the installation of new plant and equipment. Transmission bottlenecks will be eased; new suppliers, such as solar and wind projects, brought in. Two political question marks arise. Firstly, should it really be regarded as public “control” if National Grid plc remains in charge of the overall system? Secondly, is new infrastructure really a public asset if, as seems likely, most of the capital, and therefore returns, accrue from and to private equity and AMFs?
Is it “control” if hybrid corporations like GBG part-finance their investments with public funds while monopolies like National Grid plc continue to cream off hundreds of millions of profit for these and other rentier shareholders? Prominent amongst these are US equity and AMFs such as BlackRock, Vanguard and State Street. This is not a reversal of neoliberal practices. Enrolling rentier corporations merely endorses its latest incarnation. As the old American jibe puts it: “you can put lipstick on the pig, but it’s still a pig”. Is the pledge to end neoliberalism simply a political slogan aimed at placating the left and public frustrations?