In a stunning blow to the Cheeto-in-Chief’s ongoing war on reality, the Supreme Court has slapped down his attempt to install a crony on the Federal Reserve Board. The ruling, which landed with the subtlety of a gin bottle dropped on a marble floor, reaffirms that even the most orange-tinted autocrat cannot simply waltz into the temple of monetary policy and demand a seat at the table. For a brief, glorious moment, the transatlantic financial system breathed a collective sigh of relief, secure in the knowledge that somewhere, sanity still holds sway.
Let us be clear: this is not merely an American kerfuffle. This is a matter of existential importance to every British soul who has ever fretted over the value of their pound sterling while queuing for a flat white. The independence of central banks is the bedrock upon which modern financial stability is built. When the Fed sneezes, Threadneedle Street catches a cold. And when a reality-television vulgarian starts meddling with the levers of monetary policy, the entire global economy begins to resemble a game of Monopoly played by drunk chimps.
The judges, in their infinite wisdom, have ruled that the President cannot simply fire a Fed governor without cause. This is not rocket science, people. This is Basic Civics 101, the sort of stuff that any moderately educated schoolchild could explain. But in the fevered swamp of current American politics, even the most elementary checks and balances have become totems of resistance against the creeping tide of authoritarian buffoonery.
Consider the alternative: a Fed packed with loyalists, offering up interest rate cuts like party favours to the highest bidder. Imagine the chaos. Inflation would spiral, the dollar would tank, and investors would flee to… well, to the United Kingdom, presumably, where the Bank of England still operates with the solemn dignity of a Victorian undertaker. But let us not be complacent. Each such attack on central bank independence is a test, a thermonuclear device aimed at the foundations of our financial order.
And now a word for the British banking magnates, the hedge fund managers of Mayfair, the lords of Lombard Street. Do not imagine that this ruling is some distant American affair. The rot is global. Our own dear Bank of England has faced its share of populist potshots, though typically delivered in more restrained, tweed-wrapped rhetoric. The very notion that a government could meddle with the Bank’s mandate is anathema to every sane economist. Yet here we are, watching the GOP’s demolition derby and wondering who is next.
We must stand firm. We must remind ourselves that the independence of central banks is not a gift from the gods, but a hard-won prize, crafted from the ashes of hyperinflation and the rubble of failed monetarist experiments. It is the shield that protects the savings of every pensioner, the mortgage holder, the small business owner. And it is under threat, not from some foreign power, but from the caprice of a single man with a spray tan and a Twitter account.
So raise a glass of cheap gin to the Supreme Court, to the nine wise men and women who have, for one shining moment, placed the stability of the global economy above the whims of a narcissist. Let us drink to the rule of law, to the sanctity of independent institutions, to the glorious, boring, technocratic machinery that keeps the world from descending into financial barbarism. And let us hope that the message carries across the Atlantic. Because if the Fed can be saved, perhaps, just perhaps, the rest of us have a chance.
