Cost-of-living misery is cutting through society like a knife through butter

A political obsessive who spends far too much time scrolling through Twitter can easily lose sight of what topics cut through with the public. Most people don’t have the time or headspace to care about issues that are making no meaningful impact on them. They have lives to live, after all. The cost-of-living crisis is different. It’s an issue pertinent to everyone except the wealthy. For me, lingering somewhere in the lower middle class, it means increased debt, more stress, regular anxiety from thinking about money and a near empty bank account before payday. It means a downgrade in lifestyle.

I find myself increasingly wondering when we’ll ever experience a sustained period of prosperity of the kind we haven’t seen since before 2008. Where have all the good times gone? I am working harder than ever and have a good job yet have far less disposable income than I did a few years ago. There is no sign of better times on the horizon either, and the situation is totally beyond my control.

For the poor, the situation is far more severe. The increased cost of living means going hungry, choosing between heating or eating in the winter, unpaid bills and the dark cloud of poverty following you everywhere. It means malnourishment and ill health. At worst, it means descending into destitution.

Truly, the cost-of-living crisis is a bread-and-butter issue. Speaking of butter, the price of this single product has proved a useful tracker for me. Until 2015 I worked at Tesco and I had begun taking an interest in how prices changed over time (I would get very bored, alright?!). Back then, Tesco’s own-brand butter was a mere 89p. Throughout the economic instability in the wake of Brexit and the pandemic, I’ve let out many audible gasps before begrudgingly sticking it in my trolley. I did so when it broke the £1 barrier and I distinctly remember gasping when it hit £1.39.

This week, I went full Yorkshiremen when I saw the latest price and yelled out in the middle of the aisle: “Jesus Christ, £1.75!” Before I remembered I was in public and slunk away embarrassed (yes, I bought it, I’m not a margarine man). I recalled when you’d pay that price for the good stuff – your President, Kerrygold or some luxury butter made in a creamery in the Yorkshire Dales. This was just Tesco’s own-brand. From 89p to £1.75 in a few short years, a tale of economic woe.

This is all very un-scientific and anecdotal, of course – I’m not expecting credit for my investigative journalism. But that’s kind of my point. The cost-of-living crisis doesn’t require much investigation, nor explanation by experts, or statistics, for anyone to understand it. No one needs to tune into BBC news or read a newspaper column to get it. This is something that we can feel. It’s very simple to look at your weekly shop and just know that you have got less for your money than you did even a few months ago, never mind last year or the year before that. When the energy bill arrives, anyone can look at the number and note how much it has increased.

The cost-of-living crisis is on the minds of ordinary Britons every single day. The government should be very worried, because it cannot spin its way out of it or distract from it with culture war issues. In lieu of actual policy, ministers have told us to buy value brands, budget better, or cook meals from scratch. This isn’t going to cut it.

The cost-of-living crisis is such a potent political weapon that Labour’s next election campaign writes itself. Simply ask the electorate if they have got richer or poorer under the Conservatives. The answer is obvious. Economically, things have gotten worse.

Not only that, while people have been struggling, the government increased taxes, effectively cut benefits by failing to uprate them in line with inflation and now it is threatening a trade war with the EU over the NI protocol, an issue utterly unimportant to most people outside of Northern Ireland. It’s breathtakingly complacent. Do they not see the asteroid of public resentment hurtling towards them? Even if they do, it’s already too late.