These tax cut whispers are about to get louder

Bizarrely, abolishing the 50p rate remains top of the Chancellor's list.

With summer over, the skies are darkening in more ways than one. Economic forecasts, previously strong for this autumn, have long been heading south. Last week sharpened the sense of impending crisis. The FTSE has been shaken more violently than at any time since the paroxysms of early 2009. On Wednesday, unemployment stats took their biggest quarter-on-quarter leap since March 2009. The US and German economies are flat-lining.

Whatever your favoured explanation for our worsening economic plight, one thing is increasingly clear: the UK economy is propped up on pillows, in desperate need of a shot in the arm. It may not be fashionable to say it, but that shot needs to involve a pickup in consumption and domestic consumer confidence. Yes, that jars with the consensus narrative about the need to rebalance our economy towards exports and investment, away from domestic consumption. But in times like these there's no escape from the cold hard reality: household consumption still makes up two thirds of UK GDP. Whatever our need for medium-term rebalancing, domestic consumption will play the star role in either lifting the UK economy out of danger or pushing it over the edge.

You only have to look at the periods following previous recessions to see how far we are now wavering from the 'normal' path to recovery. Figure 2 in this recent blog post compares the four major recessions that have hit the UK in recent decades, looking at the path of household consumption from their onset. In each case, it was at around this point - 10 quarters on from the start of contraction - that the spark of consumer spending re-ignited. As would be expected following a "balance sheet recession"', our current path to recovery looks decidedly different. Today, consumer spending is not a rocket booster but a millstone.

This economic misery is being driven by the coincidence of two things: households are seeing their disposable incomes fall steadily in real terms at the same time as they continue to carry a massive burden of debt. That leaves them facing a stark choice. Either falling incomes mean less spending or households will have to eat into their savings or take on yet more debt. (New research from the Resolution Foundation out this week will confirm the startlingly poor savings position of Britain's low-to-middle incomes households and reinforces just how vulnerable millions of households are to any future rise in interest rates). Only a pick-up in real disposable incomes will gradually free us from this bind.

So how is this harsh economic reality set to play out in our politics? Amidst all the unpredictability, we can be confident about one thing: in the coming months the current Westminster chatter about tax cuts will become louder and more volatile. Expect arguments over timing, over who to target, the potential impact on consumer confidence and spending, and perhaps loudest of all, over how any cut could be paid for.

In macroeconomic terms, of course, any plausible move on tax will pale in comparison to the decisions the Bank of England makes on further quantitative easing. But in the context of a long squeeze on living standards, all political parties have long realised that the lure of a targeted reduction in taxes for at least some groups would eventually become irresistible. Deteriorating economic news may expedite this.

So what's on the agenda? Bizarrely, given the economic context, the abolition of the 50p rate remains top of the chancellor's list, with a review set to report in the autumn as cover for a move. Even leaving aside the glaring question of equity, there will be grave doubts about the economic wisdom of trying to stimulate the economy - however modestly - with a tax cut for the very richest. Whatever you think of the 50p rate (and polls show that the public think quite a lot of it) cutting taxes for those at the very top is more likely to see money flowing into high-end savings accounts and central London property. By contrast, tax cuts for the bottom half of the working population - in particular those low income households who are now spending every penny they earn - are far more likely to help the high street.

Of course, the chancellor must know full well that, on its own, a tax cut for the richest 1 per cent would be the final nail in the coffin of his claim that "we're all in this together". If that is Labour's hope, there is a good chance they will be disappointed. It's no surprise, then, to see recent Lib Dem briefings talking up the idea of reintroducing the 10p rate of tax, backed by a clear message that they want to support those struggling on low and middle incomes.

Such a move may seem far-fetched but it has a powerful political logic. Many Labour backbenchers would retch at the prospect of Tories jeering from across the benches, hollering that they have put right the injustice of Brown's 10p abolition. The Lib Dems would of course revel at the prospect of claiming that it is they who have dragged the government's tax strategy in a more progressive direction.

Could it prove possible to make any sort of move on both 10p and 50p? That would be a significant fiscal stretch. It will depend in large part on the state of the economy; though paradoxically, if things suddently get worse, measures that currently sound implausible could gain a new respectability. It will also depend on whether the Coalition is willing to raise compensating tax revenue in a way that doesn't tilt the economy downwards. For that reason it's significant that some Lib Dems are now briefing aggressively in favour of a wealth tax (as well as green taxes) - and that prominent Tories are pitching in their penny's worth, from outright hostility from some cabinet ministers to more thoughtful support from commentators.

Of course, as the debate heats up, other options will also rise to the surface. For all its economic and political superiority over a tax-cut for the very richest, there are reasons to question the reintroduction of the 10p rate. Some will argue, for example, that reversing cuts to tax credits would better target money to those most in need. The fiscal position, combined with an unwillingness to raise other taxes, may in the end scupper any move in the near future in any case. But wherever the debate ends up, one thing is already becoming clear as the summer wanes: this game of Westminster whispers is set to get a whole lot louder.

Gavin Kelly is Chief Executive of the Resolution Foundation. James Plunkett (twitter.com/#!/jamestplunkett) leads the Foundation's Commission on Living standards.

John Moore
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The man who created the fake Tube sign explains why he did it

"We need to consider the fact that fake news isn't always fake news at the source," says John Moore.

"I wrote that at 8 o'clock on the evening and before midday the next day it had been read out in the Houses of Parliament."

John Moore, a 44-year-old doctor from Windsor, is describing the whirlwind process by which his social media response to Wednesday's Westminster attack became national news.

Moore used a Tube-sign generator on the evening after the attack to create a sign on a TfL Service Announcement board that read: "All terrorists are politely reminded that THIS IS LONDON and whatever you do to us we will drink tea and jolly well carry on thank you." Within three hours, it had just fifty shares. By the morning, it had accumulated 200. Yet by the afternoon, over 30,000 people had shared Moore's post, which was then read aloud on BBC Radio 4 and called a "wonderful tribute" by prime minister Theresa May, who at the time believed it was a genuine Underground sign. 

"I think you have to be very mindful of how powerful the internet is," says Moore, whose viral post was quickly debunked by social media users and then national newspapers such as the Guardian and the Sun. On Thursday, the online world split into two camps: those spreading the word that the sign was "fake news" and urging people not to share it, and those who said that it didn't matter that it was fake - the sentiment was what was important. 

Moore agrees with the latter camp. "I never claimed it was a real tube sign, I never claimed that at all," he says. "In my opinion the only fake news about that sign is that it has been reported as fake news. It was literally just how I was feeling at the time."

Moore was motivated to create and post the sign when he was struck by the "very British response" to the Westminster attack. "There was no sort of knee-jerk Islamaphobia, there was no dramatisation, it was all pretty much, I thought, very calm reporting," he says. "So my initial thought at the time was just a bit of pride in how London had reacted really." Though he saw other, real Tube signs online, he wanted to create his own in order to create a tribute that specifically epitomised the "very London" response. 

Yet though Moore insists he never claimed the sign was real, his caption on the image - which now has 100,800 shares - is arguably misleading. "Quintessentially British..." Moore wrote on his Facebook post, and agrees now that this was ambiguous. "It was meant to relate to the reaction that I saw in London in that day which I just thought was very calm and measured. What the sign was trying to do was capture the spirit I'd seen, so that's what I was actually talking about."

Not only did Moore not mean to mislead, he is actually shocked that anyone thought the sign was real. 

"I'm reasonably digitally savvy and I was extremely shocked that anyone thought it was real," he says, explaining that he thought everyone would be able to spot a fake after a "You ain't no muslim bruv" sign went viral after the Leytonstone Tube attack in 2015. "I thought this is an internet meme that people know isn't true and it's fine to do because this is a digital thing in a digital world."

Yet despite his intentions, Moore's sign has become the centre of debate about whether "nice" fake news is as problematic as that which was notoriously spread during the 2016 United States Presidential elections. Though Moore can understand this perspective, he ultimately feels as though the sentiment behind the sign makes it acceptable. 

"I use the word fake in inverted commas because I think fake implies the intention to deceive and there wasn't [any]... I think if the sentiment is ok then I think it is ok. I think if you were trying to be divisive and you were trying to stir up controversy or influence people's behaviour then perhaps I wouldn't have chosen that forum but I think when you're only expressing your own emotion, I think it's ok.

"The fact that it became so-called fake news was down to other people's interpretation and not down to the actual intention... So in many interesting ways you can see that fake news doesn't even have to originate from the source of the news."

Though Moore was initially "extremely shocked" at the reponse to his post, he says that on reflection he is "pretty proud". 

"I'm glad that other people, even the powers that be, found it an appropriate phrase to use," he says. "I also think social media is often denigrated as a source of evil and bad things in the world, but on occasion I think it can be used for very positive things. I think the vast majority of people who shared my post and liked my post have actually found the phrase and the sentiment useful to them, so I think we have to give social media a fair judgement at times and respect the fact it can be a source for good."

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.