THIS week's print column attempts an assessment of George Osborne, a very political Chancellor of the Exchequer, with the help of former holders of that office:

IS GEORGE OSBORNE too political to be chancellor of the exchequer? By tradition, British finance ministers are supposed to be above the grubbier forms of electoral calculation, sticking to the path of economic prudence—even if Gordon Brown, a deeply political chancellor, tested that tradition to near-destruction.

Mr Brown aside, Mr Osborne is an unusually political man to hold his office, both by instinct and by dint of his second role, as chief electoral strategist to David Cameron, his party leader, prime minister and close ally. Mr Osborne's supporters admit that he revels in the politics of politics: the fine calculation of tactics, the plotting of ambushes, the sniffing of breezes and the weighing of principle against expediency. Ultimately, Mr Osborne's term in office will be judged by the outcome of a single, huge political bet: his decision to try to eliminate Britain's structural deficit before the end of this parliament in 2015. The question is whether his acute political antennae will help this project.

For guidance, Bagehot turned to three former chancellors: Nigel Lawson (who held the office under Margaret Thatcher from 1983 to 1989); Norman Lamont (John Major's chancellor from 1990 to 1993); and Alistair Darling, Mr Osborne's immediate Labour predecessor. They have no quarrel with a chancellor thinking politically, it turns out. When the public is being asked to swallow strong medicine, politics cannot be divorced from economics, says Mr Darling. A plan that cannot actually be delivered is “worse than having no plan at all,” he says. Lord Lawson suggests that political self-interest should keep Mr Osborne from short-term concessions that damage the economy. After all, a recovery that is entrenched by 2015 is his overwhelming goal.

Strikingly, Mr Darling offers Mr Osborne support against those on the left demanding that the government unveil an alternative fiscal plan now, in case the economic weather worsens. Mr Darling accuses the current chancellor of cutting spending too deeply and fast (in office Mr Darling proposed halving the budget deficit by 2015, a strategy he still defends). But those calling for Mr Osborne to unveil a Plan B now are defying common sense, says Mr Darling: “If you announce a plan but also say you have a stand-by plan, you might as well throw your first plan away.”

The guild of ex-chancellors is squeamish of overly naked politicking. Lord Lawson recalls how he delayed his big tax-cutting budget until after the 1987 election to avoid what would have looked like “a pre-election bribe”—though he also admits he felt there was “electoral mileage” in giving voters something to look forward to after the election. Mr Darling chides a previous Tory chancellor, Ken Clarke, for failing to raise interest rates before the 1997 election in defiance of prevailing economic wisdom.

Lord Lamont says Mr Osborne is in an unusual position of strength. When chancellors are accused of being “non-political”, says Lord Lamont, it usually means they have said “no” to colleagues itching to spend money. Surrounded by spending ministers, chancellors are in a minority in the cabinet. That means they can be effective only with the full support of Number 10: “Only the prime minister can protect them from the majority.”

The temptations of popularity

Mr Osborne starts with strengths all three of his predecessors must envy. His cabinet colleagues know his iron grip over their budgets is part of the government's defining political strategy. He is also close to his prime minister. Insiders say Mr Osborne and Mr Cameron are bound by a pact of loyalty and friendship that no sensible minister would try to prise apart. This is based in part on Mr Osborne's understanding that Mr Cameron is an electoral asset in a way that he is not. During the 2010 election, when Mr Cameron dominated Tory advertising, a colleague asked Mr Osborne if his face might feature on campaign posters. “Not Conservative ones,” he replied dryly.

To date, Mr Osborne has used his political skills to good effect. The Conservative-Liberal Democrat coalition has successfully persuaded a broad swathe of public opinion that the previous Labour government left the country in a financial mess that must be fixed—and that is principally his achievement. Given the pain that voters will endure, says an ally, getting the politics of austerity right is “central to getting the policy through”.

The chancellor has been helped by the Labour opposition's muddle over the deficit. Labour says Mr Osborne is a dangerous ideologue, cutting public spending too deeply and ignoring warning signs of an economic slump in stubborn pursuit of what it says is his real goal, a smaller state. Time for an alternative, Labour declared on June 6th, brushing aside a report from the International Monetary Fund that urged Mr Osborne to stick to his cuts. But Labour's front bench cannot agree whether to apologise for giddy levels of spending before the credit crunch, or to boast about them, sapping the party's credibility.

For all that, some thoughtful Conservatives worry. They note that many of the most sensitive cuts are not due to bite until much closer to the next election. One senior figure predicts that Mr Osborne will struggle to meet his borrowing targets, amid what may well be sluggish global growth. He wonders whether future plans to slash defence spending or to axe child-benefit payments for more affluent families will be carried out, as polling day nears. “The temptation to be political will be great. And George Osborne is very political,” he says.

Mr Osborne's political skills explain the strong position in which he finds himself. From now on, they risk leading him astray. In the words of one ex-chancellor, the office brings the burden of “having to see things as they really are”. Mr Osborne should embrace that burden. Long after his finest political wheezes are forgotten, it is as a chancellor that he will be judged.