The £2 broadband tax echoes Canada's 30¢ tax to save music

"Boy, hurting that new industry to save this dying one; that definitely won't backfire!" - Nobody, ever.

Remember when Canada introduced a compulsory levy on blank CDs to save the recorded music market, and how that totally made everything OK? Oh, you don't? 

Canada is one of a few countries which enacted what's known as a "private copying levy". Any "blank audio recording media", such as cassettes, CD-Rs, or MiniDiscs, is subject to a tax – of $0.29 per unit for CD-Rs, and $0.24 per unit for cassettes.

In a way, it's very similar to David Leigh's proposal to save journalism. Charge a levy on the new technology which is eating the old, and save the "valuable" incumbent at the expense of the upstart new entrant. In fact, it's better than Leigh's proposal; most audio recording media does have music on it, whereas very little internet bandwidth is used for news (if we were being fair about where the money goes, most of that £2 would subsidise porn – which is also suffering under the yoke of the internet).

So how did the levy do? It saved the Canadian recording industry, right? Not so much:

Source

The money taken from downloads is actually on the up in Canada, as with everywhere else; and eventually, the industry will recalibrate around this new funding source. But to pretend that state funding – particularly state funding based on a tax of an unrelated resource – can save the industry is sadly wishful thinking.

Newspapers pile up on the street floor. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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PMQs review: Jeremy Corbyn turns "the nasty party" back on Theresa May

The Labour leader exploited Conservative splits over disability benefits.

It didn't take long for Theresa May to herald the Conservatives' Copeland by-election victory at PMQs (and one couldn't blame her). But Jeremy Corbyn swiftly brought her down to earth. The Labour leader denounced the government for "sneaking out" its decision to overrule a court judgement calling for Personal Independence Payments (PIPs) to be extended to those with severe mental health problems.

Rather than merely expressing his own outrage, Corbyn drew on that of others. He smartly quoted Tory backbencher Heidi Allen, one of the tax credit rebels, who has called on May to "think agan" and "honour" the court's rulings. The Prime Minister protested that the government was merely returning PIPs to their "original intention" and was already spending more than ever on those with mental health conditions. But Corbyn had more ammunition, denouncing Conservative policy chair George Freeman for his suggestion that those "taking pills" for anxiety aren't "really disabled". After May branded Labour "the nasty party" in her conference speech, Corbyn suggested that the Tories were once again worthy of her epithet.

May emphasised that Freeman had apologised and, as so often, warned that the "extra support" promised by Labour would be impossible without the "strong economy" guaranteed by the Conservatives. "The one thing we know about Labour is that they would bankrupt Britain," she declared. Unlike on previous occasions, Corbyn had a ready riposte, reminding the Tories that they had increased the national debt by more than every previous Labour government.

But May saved her jibe of choice for the end, recalling shadow cabinet minister Cat Smith's assertion that the Copeland result was an "incredible achivement" for her party. "I think that word actually sums up the Right Honourable Gentleman's leadership. In-cred-ible," May concluded, with a rather surreal Thatcher-esque flourish.

Yet many economists and EU experts say the same of her Brexit plan. Having repeatedly hailed the UK's "strong economy" (which has so far proved resilient), May had better hope that single market withdrawal does not wreck it. But on Brexit, as on disability benefits, it is Conservative rebels, not Corbyn, who will determine her fate.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.