Taxing times for the coalition (contd...)

The £7bn of pension tax relief that Osborne won't cut.

Just in case there was any risk of the coalition row on tax policy cooling down for a day or two, along comes a new report today, Tax and the Coalition, to fan the flames.

We do, of course, need to bear in mind that in this choppy pre-party conference period, there is bound to be a rash of publications appealing to the party faithful and burnishing the author's credentials in their eyes. Nonetheless, Lord Newby -- author of the report -- is a well connected Liberal Democrat peer and tax-expert, known to be close to Vince Cable. His report pulls no punches. The 50p rate must be preserved until fiscal consolidation is achieved; the Laffer-curve economics of those on the right calling for its abolition is dismissed; and a raft of tax raising measures are proposed that would hit the seriously affluent including a mansion tax on properties over £2m (served up with a swipe against Eric Pickles), an increase in capital gains tax, a land value tax, and further anti-avoidance initiatives.

Most will view all this as yet another twist in the 50p tax-rate saga, but more interesting -- and ultimately more important -- is the proposal to abolish higher rate tax-relief for pension contributions. A massive £7bn is still spent on this staggeringly regressive policy (benefiting only the richest 12 per cent of tax payers).

The long-standing defence of higher rate tax-relief, such as it is, has been that it is needed to avoid a form of 'double taxation' - paying tax on the income from your pension at a higher rate than the relief received when contributions were first made. Newby gives this short shrift, arguing that it would only apply to a vanishingly small number of people (he estimates that someone would have to have a pension pot of over £1.35m before this would occur). Massive spending on higher rate tax-relief is a luxury for the affluent that shouldn't have been allowed to grow so much in the good times and certainly can't be afforded in the bad.

It's important to put the generosity of this £7bn into the context of our long term "pensions crisis" for those on low-to-middle incomes ("crisis" is horribly overused in today's politics, but not silly in this instance). A flow of reports have highlighted the extent to which British households are failing to save enough to guarantee an adequate income in retirement, and the ONS has pointed out that over a million people have stopped contributing to personal pensions over recent years. Two out of three of those on low-to-middle incomes are not contributing to their own pension. The combination of chronic under-saving and rapidly increasingly life expectancy, if left unchecked, will condemn a generation of pensioners to poverty in retirement.

There is a major program of private pension reform in the pipeline, not least automatic enrolment starting from 2012. But there is deep concern about the capacity of those on low-wages to actually make their contributions given the wider squeeze on household finances and current levels of indebtedness. And the scale of the incentives on offer to encourage them to do so will be relatively modest.

Today's report is a reminder that the 2010 Liberal Democrat manifesto committed to abolish higher rate pensions tax-relief, so that everyone would receive tax-relief at the basic rate. (Indeed some within the Labour negotiating team at the time of the coalition talks saw the Lib Dem proposal as a welcome opportunity to rebalance resources away from the most affluent). Since then, we've heard precious little from the coalition on this issue other than a (sensible) tweaking of the Labour government's belated commitment to restrict but not abolish tax-relief for the seriously rich: the policy is now to reduce the annual tax-deductible allowance from £255,000 to £50,000 and the lifetime allowance from £1.8m to the measly sum of £1.5m. Indeed, on this major element of public expenditure, the coalition appears almost uniquely reticent to make further savings (when it comes to tax-reliefs, small-staters often become big-spenders). Next time a minister says that, sadly, they have no alternative to cutting back this or that programme aimed at the disadvantaged, let's hope someone asks them why this £7bn is so untouchable.

So what might we glean about wider tax politics from today's report? First, it is a stark reminder of the precarious ideological balancing act that Clegg presides over within his party and in the coalition. Many on the Labour benches would happily agree with the great majority, if not all, of Newby's proposals. Rest assured, the same cannot be said of the Conservatives.

Second, it brings home how little thinking about long-term tax reform is coming out of Labour circles at the moment. The abolition of higher-rate tax relief should be just one element of this, and a rather obvious one, so it is surprising that Labour appears content to cede this territory to the Lib Dems. The savings on offer could be used for any number of good purposes -- not least in the short term, for a targeted tax-cut for low-to-middle income families; and in the longer term providing stronger incentives to encourage these households to save.

Third, the Lib Dem and (in-time) Labour leaderships are likely to view this £7bn as low-hanging fruit when they start to search for resources to pay for their next manifestos. So if the Conservatives think the abolition of higher-rate relief is a bridge too far, they risk starting the next election campaign with a black hole of £7bn relative to their rivals. This will, at some point, trouble them, so they will also have to think long and hard about whether they can themselves make further cuts before then.

Finally, it highlights the pivotal role that the policy of raising personal allowances has played in yoking together the coalition in support of a totemic tax-reform measure in the early part of the parliament. And it suggests how hard it will be for them to find a "phase 2" tax policy which provides the same political adhesive. Anyone who thinks that coalition relations on tax will be plain sailing once the issue of the 50p rate is finally resolved needs to think again.

Gavin Kelly is chief executive of the Resolution Foundation.

Gavin Kelly is a former adviser to Downing Street and the Treasury. He tweets @GavinJKelly1.

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era