The older I get, the less I understand the economy

The only reason my son doesn’t find money burning a hole in his pocket is that he’s usually spent the dosh before actually being given it. On a Saturday morning, he can’t resist the tantalising, automated door of WH Smith, which opens as we pass, welcoming him in and practically nudging him to the football cards behind the counter.

“I want a packet of Match Attax,” he’ll say determinedly. “I can pay for it with this week’s pocket money, and I’ll owe you next week’s.” Sometimes I’ll refuse, unwilling to offer credit to a seven-year-old. “Don’t worry Dad,” he’ll reassure me. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got nearly a pound in my money box.” The cards will, I know, be likely to disappoint – and the exercise will be repeated a week or two hence. But I hope that somehow the regular exchange of my hard-earned cash for a packet of mostly “swaps” is teaching him a valuable life lesson. Or not valuable, as it were.

When I was about my son’s age, my grandparents presented me with a commemorative two-pound coin. I guess it must have been one of those struck to mark the 1986 Commonwealth Games, and of course, I was thrilled. Not because it was a rare and unusual thing; but because someone had given me a couple of quid. I spent it within a month, much to my grandparents’ horror.

I suspect they had a fancy that one day the coin would be worth a mint. In fact, it appears today to be available to buy for the princely sum of £13. Admittedly, that’s twice the rate of compound inflation over the period, but probably not enough for me to retire on. My son would exchange it for six packs of football stickers in a heartbeat.

Watching this week’s Budget, and the reaction that unfolded in its wake, I’ve come to the conclusion that I still don’t understand much about money. Take, for instance, the much-discussed boost offered to the wealthy few who are lucky enough to have over a million pounds in their pension pot. Hard workers I’m sure, most of them, and no doubt it would be handy to incentivise experienced medical consultants to do a few more ward rounds before they disappear for the endless rounds of golf that retirement will bring. But really, if this is all about retaining top docs, why not find a way to exempt them and them alone from the lifetime allowance cap.

Meanwhile, much younger medical professionals are wondering about how to pay the rent, let alone how they’ll save for retirement. Likewise teachers, rail workers and many others. No wonder strikes are the order of the day.

And what about young people hoping to get on the housing ladder? According to Hamptons estate agent, the average household income in London is just over £58,000. Yet the average monthly mortgage payment on a house in London is £4,350. It just doesn’t stack up.

I say this, I should acknowledge, from a position of relative financial security. But in a sense, that underpins my incredulity about how on earth many people are coping. And of course, the truth is, they are not: for a significant number of people, it’s not a question of choosing between Waitrose and Aldi, but between heating and food.

The government is desperate to give the impression that it is stabilising the economy after the crisis created by the previous prime minister and her chancellor. But it is striking how hopeless the medium-term outlook is, particularly for younger people: prices of goods rising; property-ownership out of reach; wages stagnant, or at least out of step with inflation. Throw in the climate crisis and a grinding war in Europe, and no wonder there is a distinct lack of optimism.

My son has his eighth birthday coming up soon. We asked him what he might like as a present. The answer: sweets and Match Attax cards. Oh, and money. We then queried whether he had any plans for how to spend the cash he was hoping for. Sweets and Match Attax cards, obviously. I’d like to suggest he maybe saves for the future, but really, the way things are going, he might as well not bother.