Tax dodging by foreign companies risks rendering aid pointless

The amount lost to foreign countries through tax dodging far outstrips the aid budget – and it could get worse.

From caravans, to pasties and grannies, the tax U-turns performed by the Government after the Budget last March have been well documented. But a much more fundamental shift in tax code, which will make it far easier for the biggest multinationals to make even greater use of tax havens has gone almost unnoticed.

Changes to obscure sounding Controlled Foreign Company (CFC) rules radically weaken the UK’s anti-tax haven abuse regime. Not only will they cost the UK almost £1 billion in lost revenues, ActionAid estimates they could also cost developing countries £4 billion a year.

Following a nine month investigation into the importance of tax revenues for developing countries, the cross-party International Development Select Committee are today calling on the Government to drop its CFC changes if a Treasury assessment finds that it will do harm.

Sir Malcolm Bruce MP, Chair of the Committee, argued that "it would be deeply unfortunate if the Government’s [aid] efforts were undermined by its own tax rules." A loss of £4bn is roughly half the British aid budget.

At present, the Treasury refuses to undertake an impact assessment – in spite of recommendations from IMF, World Bank and UN, alongside calls from thousands of ActionAid supporters around the country.

The International Development Committee (IDC) report also recognises the fundamental importance of helping developing countries to increase their own tax revenues, enabling them to put more teachers in schools and nurses in hospitals. Ultimately, improving their ability to collect tax will enable poor countries to end aid dependency.

The committee calls on the Department for International Development to give a higher priority to helping the developing world improve its tax base. Ministerial oversight is vital to ensure that future moves by the Treasury don’t come at the expense of some of the world’s poorest countries.

The report echoes the calls of tax justice campaigners for much greater transparency in the way both multinational companies and tax havens operate. In particular the report highlights the need for the Treasury to press the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man to make the financial accounts of subsidiary companies registered there publicly available.

The OECD currently estimates that developing countries lose three times more to tax havens than they receive in aid each year. Any measures which help prevent this vast out-flow of vital resources could have a transformative effect on the lives of millions of poor people.

The challenge to Government laid down by the IDC is clear. The question is – will they listen?

Uncanny Valley: George Osborne and Mitt Romney spoke during the latter's visit to Britain. Photograph: Getty Images

Chris Jordan is a Tax Justice Campaigner for ActionAid

Qusai Al Shidi/Flickr
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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war