Tax justice must be on the agenda for the post-2015 development goals

Anything else would be dodging the problem.

As the 2015 deadline approaches for achieving the "Millennium Development Goals" – the global benchmarks for tackling poverty – questions are growing louder about how far we’ve come, and what we do next. David Cameron is to co-chair a UN High-Level Panel on this "post-2015" agenda. At conference tables, across the blogosphere and in an avalanche of reports, donors and development experts are starting to haggle over the future of aid and development.  

Cameron has set out his stall already, describing his vision of a "golden thread" of development through tackling corruption; securing rights; and shifting focus from aid to economic growth, led by business and private enterprise. Cameron’s co-chairs, Presidents Susilo Yudhoyono of Indonesia and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia, also want to look beyond aid to unlock wealth through “economic growth, trade, tackling corruption, effective government and open societies”.

There’s no denying that a re-think is needed. The world has profoundly changed since the MDGs were conceived in the 1990s. With persistent crises in wealthy economies, global aid levels fell last year for the first time since 1997. The UK government is still rightly committed to reaching the UN agreed target of spending 0.7 per cent of national income on aid, and though it will remain vital for many years to come, it’s high time to also look for new resources to fight poverty.

At the same time, we’ve witnessed a seismic shift in the geography of economic growth and potential. It’s now clear that Asian and African economies will continue to grow far faster than in Europe and North America. The boom is far from universal, but nor is it confined to the new "big beasts" of the global economy. In the last decade some sub-Saharan African countries have experienced growth rates higher than Brazil and China – but with health, education and incomes lagging far behind in many places. 

Cameron and his co-chairs rightly acclaim the world-changing potential of this economic transformation – but the poorest citizens are yet to see its impact.  Certainly efforts to tackle poverty must draw more from developing countries’ own growth and resources, far more reliable than volatile aid flows. But the global development challenge is now neither simply to increase aid, nor just to help developing countries to attract private investment and promote growth. It is to convert the rewards of investment and growth into jobs, incomes, health and education for citizens. 

This can only happen if developing countries are able to raise their own revenue fairly, and spend it equitably. Financing the fight against poverty requires companies, investors and wealthy individuals to pay their taxes due. Yet the OECD has estimated that developing countries lose more to tax havens than they receive in aid. ActionAid estimates that just one multinational company we investigated, the FTSE100 drinks giant SABMiller, has avoided £20m a year in taxes across Africa and Asia – enough to put an extra 250,000 children in school – helped by shifting profits through a network of companies in Switzerland, Mauritius and the Netherlands. 

Most developed countries collect between 30 and 50 per cent of their GDP in tax revenue. In sub-Saharan Africa the average is just 17 per cent. How can we help bridge the gap? Aid can help. Assistance to revenue authorities in developing countries to combat tax dodging is some of the most cost-effective aid imaginable. The Rwanda Revenue Authority was set up in 1998 with the help of a £20m grant from the UK – the same amount it now collects in revenues every four weeks. Equally vital is funding to help citizens hold government spending to account, scrutinising budgets and social programmes and ensuring that they’re meeting the needs of the poorest. 

Closer to home, the IMF, UN, World Bank and OECD have all urged developed countries to make sure changes to their own tax regimes don’t damage those of developing countries. Yet the Finance Bill currently going through Parliament threatens to open up a major new loophole in the UK’s 'Controlled Foreign Companies’ rules, making it easier for multinational companies to shift profits into tax havens. ActionAid estimates this rule change is likely to cost poor countries £4bn a year, on top of nearly £1bn to the UK’s public finances annually. This flies in the face of the need to support developing countries’ efforts to become dependent of aid.

And at a global level, the fight against international tax avoidance has slipped steadily down the agenda of the G8 and the G20 over the last 18 months, despite its potential to stabilise public finances in the developing and the developed world alike. The "post-2015" re-think is an opportunity to put it back on the agenda. At stake is the future of the fight against poverty. 

High life - but at what cost? SABMiller has avoided tax across Africa. Photograph: Getty Images

Mike Lewis is a tax justice campaigner at ActionAid

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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit