Why Nick Clegg's still taxing Cameron and Miliband

The Lib Dem leader and the coming Budget.

It remains a curiosity of today's political scene that a small and unpopular party bumping along on 7 to 10 per cent in opinion polls is making the waves on the central issue of tax policy. On this one issue at least, the two main parties find themselves reacting to the gauntlet the Liberal Democrats have laid down.

Nick Clegg's recent speech to the Resolution Foundation making the case for going further and faster in reaching a personal tax allowance of £10,000 has been widely reported as a significant moment in the genesis of the forthcoming budget which due to the precarious position of the economy, and the increasingly creaky nature of the Coalition, is destined to be a highly charged affair both fiscally and politically.

Significant it may have been, but not for the rather mundane reason that the leader of the Liberal Democrats made the case for delivering on one of his central manifesto commitments as soon as possible. Dog bites man.

It was, however, noteworthy for three less commented upon reasons.

First, because it was an attempt to signal the end of the Liberal Democrats "give and take" strategy in relation to those on low and middle incomes. Up until now each rise in the personal allowance (or indeed progress on other Liberal Democrat priorities) has been funded in large part by cuts to tax credits and increases in taxes that particularly hurt the precise group the Liberal Democrats state they are seeking to help.

Hitherto this has completely neutered their claims to being a force for tax fairness. Clegg's new and unmistakeable message is that this time it will be different. From now on the wealthy should pay for further increases in the tax allowance - whether through wealth taxes, less avoidance or cuts in higher rate pension tax-relief.

If Clegg can make this approach stick -- and that is a very big if -- it makes additional increases in the personal allowance a different political proposition for both the Conservatives (a straightforward hit to some of their core support) and Labour (why oppose?).

That said, this new and potentially more progressive approach to funding increased tax allowances may well be completely lost on the public given that deep cuts to tax credits already in the pipeline (based on previous budgets that Clegg signed up to) will bear down on the working poor for years to come.

Second, Clegg's budget intervention represented the next stage in the Lib Dem's differentiation strategy. They expect, but still don't know for sure, that Osborne will agree to some progress on personal allowances. But even if they fail their judgement is that they would be better to do so having at least have looked publicly distinct (even if ultimately ineffectual), rather than seeming to meekly go along with whatever Osborne ends up announcing.

Playing your budget hand quite so openly is a high-stakes move, and not one borne from a position of strength.

Finally, Clegg's open air budget negotiations have certainly turned up the heat on Labour. Over the last few weeks there have been many more column inches written about Liberal Democrat-Tory budget disagreements then there have been about the opposition's position.

Moreover, Clegg has stolen a march on his opponents both in terms of being the leader talking about taxing the rich and the one reported as caring about cutting income tax on the low paid. Right now it is he who is occupying this large swath of political terrain -- more baggy centre, then squeezed middle -- which is about rebalancing the tax system so it better chimes with our straightened times.

Labour to date have been largely silent on this tax rebalancing argument, though Ed Miliband has been nodding towards the need for increased taxes at the top. Ed Balls' intervention yesterday was significant therefore not just in that it broadened out Labour's position on tax cuts from VAT towards other measures, like personal allowances, that the coalition might actually move on. But it also succeeded in inserting Labour into the middle of the Budget debate.

All three parties face some delicate judgements over the next four weeks. George Osborne will need to balance carefully his instinctive reluctance (and that of his backbenchers) to hand a major victory to Clegg with the potentially destabilising effects for the Coalition of the Liberal Democrats coming away with nothing.

Labour will need to strain to explain to a sceptical public how its call for large tax cuts in the here and now fits with its renewed determination to reclaim fiscal responsibility over the medium term, a theme which was so much in evidence at the turn of the year. And they rapidly need to come up with ideas of their own to prove it is they who are best placed to lead the debate on tax fairness.

Meanwhile Clegg desperately needs to show that he can convert his recent media momentum on tax reform into a Budget victory -- and, more than that, into an upward tick in the polls.

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

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear