Misery loves company, and this autumn it’s throwing a party. Britain’s new prime minister is barely six weeks in and already getting rocked by government borrowing rates at their highest in decades. French economists on the left are asking, out loud, whether the European Central Bank might simply forgive some of the French bonds it holds. Japan’s debt remains the world economy’s great imponderable. In Friday’s Journal, Joseph Sternberg borrows Tolstoy for the diagnosis: every indebted country is unhappy in its own way. The twist is that the one country with a crisis on the calendar is us, and that’s the good news.
The numbers first. America’s national debt runs to around $40 trillion. Britain’s is 3 trillion pounds, about $4 trillion, or 94% of GDP. France’s is 3.5 trillion euros, also about $4 trillion, or 117% of GDP. Japan’s is generally figured near 230%. The dollar figures are almost beside the point; the useful thing in the column is the sorting.
Votes without ideas, ideas without votes
Britain, Sternberg argues, has the political capacity to fix its finances and professes to have no idea how. Prime Minister Andy Burnham sits on a large Labour majority, displaced an unpopular Keir Starmer, enjoyed a real honeymoon, and polls say voters trust Labour over the Conservatives on the welfare state — exactly the credibility you’d need to reform social programs, if you wanted to. He doesn’t. His party is noisily campaigning against Margaret Thatcher, who left office nearly 36 years ago and died 13 years ago. The likely sequence is tax increases this autumn, a retreat from defense-spending promises, then silence. Meanwhile gilt yields sit above the levels of Liz Truss’s brief 2022 premiership, in an economy where government yields pass into mortgage rates fast.
France has the opposite disease. The reform fruit hangs low — pension reform, raising the retirement age from 62 to 64, as President Emmanuel Macron attempted; he even rewrote the country’s byzantine labor code. Ideas were never the problem. France’s political system simply can’t implement them. Most French politicians can see the crash coming, but France’s size and its deep integration into the euro let Paris keep delaying the reckoning, so no party wants to be first to sacrifice and a fractious legislature absolves everyone. Japan under Sanae Takaichi has the British disease — capacity, no ideas. Germany under Friedrich Merz has the French one — plenty of ideas, a legislature that won’t move.
The accident that saved Washington
Left to itself, Sternberg writes, Washington would look French: ample ideas, no ability to act on them. What rescues us is not virtue but arithmetic. Social Security, our single largest entitlement, has a trust fund that is rapidly running out, and when it does either Congress acts or the program funds itself the only way it legally can, by cutting benefits more than 20%. That’s a forcing mechanism no parliament in Europe possesses. His closing line is the whole reason to run the piece: ‘Most countries stumble into fiscal crises. We’ve scheduled ours. Talk about American exceptionalism.’
We already have the date in the plan
This desk doesn’t need convincing. In Edition No. 164 on Wednesday we laid out the rule: in every retirement plan we run, the Social Security line is haircut 22% from 2032, and we plan on 78 cents on the dollar until Congress gives us a reason to put it back. A patch is the base case. A cut is the stress case. A plan that survives the stress case survives the patch for free, and that is the one gift of a crisis with a date on it — you get to rehearse.
The market link is Thursday’s tape. The ten-year Treasury closed at 4.761%, the two-year at 4.332%, the Fed-funds target sits at 3.50%-3.75%, and Polymarket puts zero Fed cuts in all of 2026 at 93.2%. Sovereign borrowing costs are the transmission channel from a headline about Britain to an American mortgage rate of 6.71%: when every large government is a bigger borrower at once, the floor under long yields is fiscal, not cyclical, and one dovish governor doesn’t move it. That is why the book keeps its cash in floating-rate paper and its inflation link short, and why we’d rather own the toll collectors than lend for thirty years to any of Tolstoy’s unhappy families.
