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This paper aims to make a submission to the UK's Economic and Social Research Council as part of its international benchmarking review of economics.

The approach takes the form of a discussion of the health of economics in the UK from the perspective of heterodox or pluralist economists who are members of the Association for Heterodox Economics.

Research assessment based on peer review is damaging economics in the UK because, as currently conducted, it does not promote pluralism. This will lead to a monolithic discipline that will reject new and controversial ideas and arguments.

The current research assessment and subject benchmarking approaches must be completely changed so as to promote pluralism.

This is the first document by a heterodox economics association to challenge the research assessment and subject benchmarking conventions in the UK and also in Europe.

IN A rapidly changing world in which surfeit—in the shape of four‐letter words, full frontal nudity and the freak antics of so‐called Trendy Man, all in the seclusion of one's own private sitting room—has reduced what was once remarkable to mere commonplace, there is perhaps nothing now which excites the curiosity of trusty old Tribology Man as much as a simple knock on the door, unless it is the intriguing plop of the postal packet which sometimes marginally precedes it. On this particular occasion the PANJANDRUM OIL COMPANY envelope carried but a solitary missive. “URGENT!” it cried, followed by a frantically scrawled appeal from a harrassed Sales clerk calling for an early visit to Mr Sam Shuttleworth, natural‐born despot and tyrannical owner of a northern rubber manufacturing outpost aptly titled Bleak Mill.

THERE were three of us—Cranmer, Bannerman and I— the local field strength of the diminutive PANJANDRUM OIL COMPANY; a miniature Dad's Army, a thin red line protecting the Company's flanks from the attacks of the insidious majors in a continuing David and Goliath confrontation, and occasionally fixing bayonets for a charge into the enemy positions. “They don't like it up 'em, you know!” is Bannerman's standard wry comment on such a sortie. Today we were jostling among the noon‐day drinkers in Willoughby's, like drought‐maddened cattle at some dusty African water‐hole, bespeaking a moist luncheon and getting our suits pressed in situ, as it were, into the bargain. Passing a drink from that bar to the rear ranks was about as easy as working a ball out of a tight scrum. Performing astonishing feats of dexterity Cranmer nevertheless presently emerged through the legs of the thronging patrons, thrusting upon me not only the expected foaming pinta, but also an unexpected whisky chaser; a devious act of generosity patently intended to compromise me into some corresponding response not yet specified. I took the benison with some misgiving and drank thoughtfully. “You do owe me a favour, you know, Antrobus!” he declared, a shade reprovingly, taking a long draught and watching my changed expression closely—and it was, of course, true. If that amazon of a matron with the faintly drawn Mexican moustache and parturient beard had discovered me in the nurses' quarters after the party … my future would not have been worth an old five gallon drum.

ANY SMART tribology man with not too much residue sludging his circulation would doubtless confirm, if pressed within sight of a public bar, that with the complete disappearance of the old total‐loss lubrication systems one of his greatest potential sources of luboil gallonage today lies in the maintenance and servicing of earth‐moving and construction equipment; especially when veritable armadas of such plant and machinery are deployed in lines abreast and astern across three or four counties in some mammoth and costly project such as motorway construction. A valid reason for holding this view is, in fact, the large body of opinion amongst construction workers that lavish lubrication, tantamount in some instances literally to bathing equipment in oil, is a relatively inexpensive form of insurance against storm and tempest and the rust pestilence—and who should deny them? Hence they appear to the observer clocking up the barrels to dispense materials on site, particularly oils, with the largesse—nay, carefree abandon—of an army in the field, bless their little Lovibond hearts.

AS A matter of principle Ebenezer Scrooge always held up the payment of outstanding bills until the last possible moment. This principle was based not merely on his love of money, which was albeit very profound, but on the mistaken premise that such action set the seal on his competence and efficiency as a business man, and emphasized his thrift and acumen. Furthermore, Scrooge did not approve of simple humanities such as office heating until the ink froze solid in the inkpots, an event now imminent in his dismal cell of a counting house on the eve of Christmas, and so surely as the poor clerk complained of the wretched conditions the master predicted it would be necessary for him to seek other employment. Whereupon the clerk wound tighter his muffler and tried to derive a little warmth from the solitary candle; in which endeavour, having but only average imagination, he failed miserably.

“IT'S no use!” declared Cranmer vehemently, crashing into our office like a wounded rhino and banging about in a most irresponsible manner… “That man Lumsden will have to go!” I recognized the mood as being one of utter frustration; the kind of needle a man gets when his best prospect is filched from under his nose at the precise moment of anticipated triumph. I know the feeling well. Cranmer flung down his document case and slumped into a chair. “He'll have to go, Antrobus!” he repeated firmly, with a seriousness suggesting it was a decision which lay within his gift that he had just resolved after great and protrated heart searching.

WHEN, PERADVENTURE, labour strife brings the steady throb of production within one's daily orbit slowly dwindling away to a strained sabbatical stillness, as though that Great Shop Steward In The Sky, for novelty, had now got the heel of a size twelve jackboot firmly planted on the jugular vein of Industry … then perforce must resolution prevail and the lubricants salesman with the crippling mortgage hurriedly find himself, revealing perhaps in his moment of self‐discovery a hitherto repressed spirit of emprise. It could be that same urge which in the Middle Ages spurred the Knight Errant to unimaginable deeds of derring‐do, leaping astride his palfry with a strange cry and galloping off to Jerusalem to slay a Saracen.

The form of crisis-governance responses to austerity urbanism that is the focus of this paper is ‘fleet-of-foot’ partnerships. These non-statutory mechanisms which champion dispersed forms of leadership are crafted in policy discourse as lean, mean, crisis-tackling fighting machines. Their perceived agility and entrepreneurialism are often lauded, yet empirical evidence for these traits remains sparse. This paper investigates this concern through the lens of the Local Enterprise Partnerships (LEPs) in England, which are deemed by some to exude some of the defining characteristics of ‘fleet-of-foot’ mechanisms.

A mixed method approach was utilised, including analysis of socio-economic datasets and qualitative policy analysis of primary and secondary material. The quantitative element includes analysis of employment and journey-to-work data, whereas the qualitative material originated from a review of LEP proposals, and narrative analysis of transcripts of interviews undertaken since 2010, together with other textual artefacts.

The findings reveal that dispersed public leadership is problematic as a mode of crisis-governance. LEPs were adopted as a crisis-governance fix. These loose (or looser) constellations of many, varied actors, are considered to be more flexible, responsive and delivery-orientated than more traditional and statutory democratic-administrative mechanisms: lean, mean, crisis-tackling fighting machines. Flexibility is a primary trait of ‘fleet-of-foot’ configurations and perhaps the defining feature of LEPs.

The programme of research remains on-going, which reflects the continual shifts in the form and configurations of LEPs.

Detecting some of the primary weaknesses of ‘fleet-of-foot’ public leadership arrangements, the research draws attention to some of the dangers of pushing austerity down and through ‘fleet-of-foot’ formations. The practical implications are highlighted by examining the limits of LEPs to achieve efficient outcomes or to open up a shared leadership space.

Through an engagement with current conceptual and policy debates where austerity ‘blows out’ across Europe, it is observed that austerian politics may be pushing partnership bodies too far, thus risking the danger of overburdening and under-resourcing the very distributed leadership mechanisms that are expected to reconcile local economic crises and stimulate local growth. This paper also contributes to the literature on dispersed public leadership, which runs counter to traditional command and control leadership constructs.

The factors which influence costs of production of food and the prices to the consumer have changed dramatically during this century, but especially since the establishment of trading systems all over the world. Gone are the days when the simple expedients of supply and demand alone governed the situation. The erosion of these principles began at the turn of the century, mainly as a result of the introduction by the rapidly developing industrial power of the USA to protect her own industries against the cheaper products of European countries. They introduced the system of tariffs on imported manufactured goods; it grew and eventually was made to apply to wide sectors of industry. European countries retaliated but the free trade policy of Britain's Liberal government was making the country a dumping ground for all other country's cheap products and surpluses.