Does cash or services have the biggest impact on child poverty?

We need to invest more money in eradicating child poverty, not simply shift current expenditure around.

There is a view being expressed in influential circles that the money spent on cash benefits (and tax credits) as part of the Labour government's child poverty strategy was wasted and that now it is much better to invest in services. The dominant rhetoric of the coalition government (supported by the Field and Allen Reviews and, to some extent, by Alan Milburn) is that very little was achieved despite billions of pounds being spent between 2000 and 2010, and the child poverty targets were not met. The Child Poverty Strategy (pdf) argued: “This government is committed to eradicating child poverty but recognises that income measures and targets do not tell the full story about the causes and consequences of childhood disadvantage. The previous government’s focus on narrow income targets meant they poured resources into short-term fixes to the symptoms of poverty instead of focusing on the causes. We plan to tackle head-on the causes of poverty which underpin low achievement, aspiration and opportunity across generations”. The Field Review (pdf) actually argued that investments in services should be funded by cutting child and family benefits. The chancellor immediately responded by reneging on his commitment to uprate child tax credits above the rate of inflation and instead to invest in early years for some deprived two-year-olds. James Purnell has joined the chorus and wants to freeze child benefit for 10 years in order to fund child care. Nick Pearce of IPPR has also blogged on the subject .

We need to recognise that the reduction in poverty achieved by the Labour child poverty strategy was mainly achieved by substantially increased and highly redistributive spending on cash benefits – tax credits including childcare tax credits, child benefits and educational maintenance allowances. Child poverty fell by a million. Without this extra cash it would have increased by a million. This evidence is rehearsed in Ending child poverty by 2020: progress made and lessons learned (pdf). Of course the state of the labour market, the minimum wage, and welfare to work played a part. Also extra spending on health, education and childcare helped. But the heavy lifting was done by cash transfers. The UK had the largest reduction in child poverty of any country in the OECD between the mid 1990s and 2008 - see here (pdf).

The claim that spending on services is better than spending on cash benefits may be influenced by the OECD, which publishes rather old (2007) data on spending on families with children as a proportion of GDP and break it down into spending on cash benefits, services and tax benefits. It is certainly true that this data shows that the Nordic countries have high levels of spending on services and low child poverty rates. But this is an association, not a cause. These countries have an egalitarian income distribution, high levels of parental labour market participation, high wages and, yes, heavy investment in good quality childcare. They also start with comparatively low pre transfer child poverty rates. Spending on cash benefits fell in all the Nordic countries in the 2000s and their child poverty rates increased.

The association between spending on services and child poverty is shown in Figure 1. There is a fairly weak association – thanks mainly to the Nordic countries. However there is no association between the proportion of family spending spent on services and child poverty rates or gaps.

Figure 1: Child poverty rate by spending on family services as % GDP

There is a much stronger association between spending on cash benefits and tax breaks and child poverty rates than there is with spending on services (see Figure 2).

Figure 2: Child poverty rate by spending on family cash benefits and tax breaks as % GDP

In EU countries there is a stronger association between child poverty gaps than child poverty rates and spending on cash benefits and tax breaks.  There is an even stronger association between spending on cash benefits and tax breaks and the reduction in child poverty achieved by transfers. See Figure 3.

Figure 3: % reduction in child poverty by % GDP spent on cash benefits and tax breaks in EU countries

Actually, it is the level of total spending on families - cash benefits plus services plus tax breaks – that is most closely associated with child poverty. The lesson is that we need to invest in children in all sorts of different ways. Spending on childcare probably helps to increase maternal employment, enhances gender equality, and possibly also has beneficial child development outcomes. But it is probably not the best way to tackle child poverty and income inequalities. Indeed, recent analysis of EU SILC data suggests that the UK is one of the countries where childcare for children aged two or less reaches the rich better than the poor. It does not tackle the poverty of older children – except possibly in the long term. To end child poverty – and to make long term savings - we need to accept that we are going to invest more money in children; not simply shift current expenditure around. This is politically difficult – but in policy terms, and for anyone who cares about child wellbeing, necessary. To shift spending from cash benefits to services now is going to result in increased child poverty.

Jonathan Bradshaw is Professor of Social Policy at University of York and trustee of Child Poverty Action Group.

 

Ending child poverty could also mean long-term savings. Photograph: Getty Images
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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue