With every passing day - and they seem to be whizzing by now – the likelihood of the UK leaving the EU without a deal, known as a ‘no deal Brexit’, is increasing. For the large majority, the prospect of this is nightmarish. In the event, it is widely understood that there would be a number of inevitabilities: the economy would slump, possibly crash; many businesses would flee, and with them whatever tax receipts they hadn’t yet evaded; and the Tory hard right would sit back and revel. That only a handful of MPs and a slither of the broader population actually desire this, testifies to the failure of parliament, and more so, the failure of government in dealing with the negotiations. For two years, it has concerned itself with little else, shelving manifesto pledges to deliver the country here, to the now. And the situation, to put it lightly, is a shambles.

Gross Domestic Product, or GDP, is the market value of all goods and services that a country produces in a given year, adjusted - to make it comparable to previous years - for inflation. In many ways, though, it's transcended this rather prosaic definition. It's become the barometer of a country’s progress, an indicator of a land’s prosperity, and the ultimate yardstick for assessing living standards. When growing (at expected rates), politicians refer to it as proof of the success of their policies. And when rates are not met, or, god forbid, GDP growth slows, it’s weaponised by those for whom it’s politically expedient. It has the power to both elect governments and bring them crashing down. In the theatre of politics, rarely is it anywhere but centre stage.

Artificial intelligence appears to be the next truly disruptive technology poised to rock our global economy. In December 2022, ChatGPT-3 made headlines. It represented a leap forward in the capabilities of generative AI technology, pushing conversations about this new tool into the mainstream as people began to question how ChatGPT will affect the economy.

Are you a labour or demographic economist wondering about the career options which are open to you? Then you should consider these jobs.

One of the great things about studying economics is that it gives you a wide range of skills: from writing to data analysis to critical thinking. With these skills, you are well set for all sorts of different careers. But you might be wondering what the best career path for you is. To help with this, we're producing a series of articles on top career paths for economists. To let you find the right career for your specific skill set, we're breaking the topic down into different specialisations within economics.

Situated in the oldest city of the Netherlands, Nijmegen, Radboud University has firmly established itself as one of the country’s most reputable institutions of higher education. Offering programmes across the academic spectrum, its MSc in Economics, in particular, is attracting students from all over the world.

In the cacophony of the Brexit debate the names Phnom Penh, Dhaka and Addis Ababa, if ever spoken, are rarely heard. And yet, with the March deadline looming on the not-too-distant horizon, and little, if anything, seemingly agreed upon, it is they who stand to be most affected, particularly if a no deal comes to pass. And things in that regard are not looking good.

In downtown Blagoevgrad, Bulgaria, the American University in Bulgaria (AUBG) calls itself “the place to be.” It is currently a home to students coming from 50 countries, some travelling from as far away as Vietnam or Russia, while others come from the neighbouring countries like Albania and Serbia.

Microeconomics is the study of what economic actors - be they people, firms, or whole industries -  do when confronted with choice, and how this affects the distribution of resources. It’s fascinatingly revealing but can be frustratingly complex. And regardless of which direction your economics career takes, it’s likely that, at some point, it will have to be mastered. But that’s fine, INOMICS is here. 

The reporting of British politics for journalists has rarely been so onerous. Dramatic landscape shifts in the form of u-turns, resignations, and unexpected elections, are now so frequent the lifespan of articles, previously measured in days, are better predicted in hours - sometimes just a handful. Last week’s rapid-fire resignations of Brexit Secretary, David Davis, and Foreign Secretary, Boris Johnson, over their intransigence regarding Britain’s Brexit strategy epitomised this difficulty. Following the double salvo, it looked, albeit briefly, as though anything was possible: a vote of no confidence; a leadership election; maybe even a general election. All bets seemed off.

Economics has a gender problem, it always has, and unfortunately, it appears to be getting worse. Until recently, the impression was that this historically male-dominated discipline was turning a corner—albeit rather slowly—and the number of women studying economics was creeping upwards. That progress, however, looks to have stalled, and by some accounts, including that of the Australian Department of Education, actually gone into reverse. All the while, the number of women in the STEM fields (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Maths)—long notorious for their poor gender ratios—has been steadily increasing. It looks as though the ‘old boys’ club’ of economics might be closing ranks.

Inequality is rampant, we hardly need telling. Rarely does the print media pass up an opportunity to remind us. We stand inundated by an endless stream of statistics – on scales barely fathomable – each one more depressing than the last. For instance, it’s widely known that: ‘8% of humanity takes home 50% of global income’; that ‘the top 1% own 45% of the world’s wealth’; and how could we forget that ‘the 26 richest people on earth had the same net worth as the poorest half’. As shocking as these stats once were, they’re now dishearteningly familiar; we can recite them unassisted; we are numb to them.

Although we’ve been told time and again that the pandemic doesn’t care about who you are, in reality it hasn’t affected everyone equally. Senior Editor William Pearse has already written about how COVID-19 has been harder on those from ethnic minorities and on poorer communities in the UK.

The emergence of Joe Biden as the unassailable front-runner in the Democratic Primary belies a contest that at various turns broke new ground. From its unprecedented field, larger and more representative than ever (save the brief participation of two billionaires), to the remarkable resuscitation of one moribund campaign, the departure from custom was clear. Nowhere was this more obvious than in policy, where the inclusion of senators, Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders, dragged the conversation leftwards into distinctly uncharted territory. While all candidates acknowledged America’s extreme inequality and the need for better healthcare, social security, etc., divergence came in the prescribed means of redistribution, and unusually discussion extended beyond familiar calls to raise income tax for the rich. Most liberal of the proposals was a wealth tax: an annual tax on everything an individual owns. Its mere suggestion confirmed an improbable rise of a policy that until recently was dismissed as fringe and anti-aspirational.