What can Iceland teach us about a wealth tax?

The country instituted an emergency tax for three years to sort out its problems. Should we?

Iceland’s remarkable recovery can serve as a lesson to the UK.

Having recently paid back its IMF loan quicker than was predicted, Iceland's unorthodox reaction to the crisis has been hailed by economists, policy-makers and the IMF itself. In addition to letting its financial system fail, the country introduced capital controls (which have been met with some skepticism as they arguably prevent foreign direct investment and therefore stunt growth) and leveraged its fiscal policy to pay off debt whilst sustaining consumption. It is this last point the UK should pay heed to, particularly as Clegg declares his support for a wealth tax.

The general theme of Iceland’s 2010 tax reform (pdf) is one of increasing tax revenue whilst offsetting the burden for lower income individuals. For instance, while fuel taxes and VAT were increased, the revenue was partially re-channeled towards public transportation and bottom-quartile households compensated for higher food, heating, and transport costs. Furthermore, in an effort to raise income without affecting consumption, the government implemented an emergency wealth tax rate for the period of 2010-2013. As of January 2011, one year after introduction, the tax rate is 1.5 per cent of net capital for single individuals with more than ISK 75,000,000 (£390,000) or 100,000,000 (£519,000) for married couples. By taxing the top 2.2 per cent of the population, the Icelandic government was able to raise 0.3 per cent of GDP in revenue every year.

However, an IMF report on the country's reform argues that the wealth tax should be abandoned as capital controls ease. Because the tax is recurring, the only thing that is stopping the wealthy from offshoring capital is the simple fact that they’re not allowed to. Therefore, IMF economists argue that the revenue from the wealth tax should be replaced by a less mobile base (i.e. real estate and high income). This does not, however, discredit the Icelandic wealth tax as a possibility in the UK; it just means that, as suggested by German scholars, it should be a one-off levy. (For an in-depth assessment of Clegg’s wealth tax go here)

Meanwhile, the biggest lesson the UK can learn from Iceland is that its recovery was at least partially fuelled by the government's struggle against depressed consumption.

Bloomberg's Omar Valdimarsson writes:

Iceland’s growth “is driven by private consumption, investment has picked up strongly and even though, when you look at net exports, those have a negative contribution to growth, it is mainly because imports have been strong, reflecting strong consumption and an increase in income and the healthy expectations of households,” Zakharova said. “Still, exports have been increasing very strongly. Last year was a banner year for tourism. These are all really positive things.”

A handful of Icelandic banknotes are withdrawn from an ATM. Photograph: Getty Images
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Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.