Will Cameron U-turn on charity tax relief?

The PM looks increasingly certain to revise Osborne's plan to cap tax relief on charitable donations

Three weeks on from the Budget, David Cameron could be forgiven for hoping that the political strife was over. But even 8,000 miles away in Asia [the PM flew from Indonesia to Malaysia earlier this morning], Cameron can't escape the aftershocks of George Osborne's statement. The outcry over the Chancellor's decision to impose a cap of £50,000 on tax relief for charitable donors is reaching a crescendo and Cameron has already hinted at a U-turn. Speaking in Jakarta yesterday, he said:

George Osborne said in the budget very carefully we would look at the effect on charitable donations because we want to encourage charitable giving... We'll look very sympathetically at these concerns

He has every reason to be sympathetic. A move intended to limit tax avoidance could end up strangling the PM's cherished "big society". A survey by the Charities Aid Foundation shows that nine out of 10 charities fear the plans will result in a drop in donations. The foundation's John Low speaks of "widespread alarm and despair" among charities. 88 per cent of the 120 charity executives surveyed believe that the cap will have a "negative impact on the value of donations" from major donors, while 56 per cent fear donations will fall by some 20 per cent.

In addition, there is pressure from Fleet Street and a significant number of Tory MPs to think again. Mark Pritchard, the secretary of the backbench 1922 Committee, commented: “This appears to be going in the opposite direction of encouraging philanthropy and major giving to charity.”

However, with the new rules not due to come into place until April 2013, there is time for a compromise. The Times (£) reports that one idea under consideration is to exempt high-value, “once in a lifetime” legacies from the new cap. Another option would be to limit the cap to donations to foreign charities, some of which do little or no charitable work.  Low's warning that a measure intended to hit the rich could end up hurting the most vulnerable is a cogent one.

Politically, the cap on charity tax relief is yet another example [cf. "the granny tax" and "the pasty tax"] of a measure the government has struggled to both explain and to defend. There are plausible arguments for all three taxes [ensuring the elderly contribute to deficit reduction, removing an anomaly that favours large traders over small ones, reducing tax avoidance by the wealthy] but Cameron and Osborne only seem to make them once it's already too late. The Daily Mail's caustic observation that the pair may now regret that they "swanned off to America" the week before the Budget will hurt because it is true.

David Cameron talks to sudents at The Al Azhar University on April 12, 2012 in Jakarta. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times