As GSK is exposed, the government must clamp down on tax dodging

Panorama adds another company to the list of tax-dodgers

The BBC’s Panorama tonight will add to a long list of allegations of corporate tax dodging. Companies like GlaxoSmithKline, which Panorama claims has used complex offshore structures to avoid millions in UK tax, now join Barclays, Vodafone, Amazon, Apple, Boots, SABMiller and Topshop (amongst others), accused of aggressive tax avoidance.  In a time of austerity, public anger continues to grow against those companies believed to be operating under different rules to the rest of us. 

In an interview last year, GSK’s own chief executive Andrew Witty lamented that:

one of the reasons we've seen an erosion of trust, broadly, in big companies is they've allowed themselves to be seen as being detached from society and they will float in and out of societies according to what the tax regime is. I think that's completely wrong.

Recent polling by ActionAid supports this view (pdf): 79 per cent of UK citizens want to see tougher action from government against tax avoidance. This is an issue that unites voters from all parties; 74 per centof Conservative voters, 83 per cent of Labour voters and 87 per cent of Liberal Democrat voters want to see tax loopholes for big multinationals closed.

Rhetorically at least, the government has responded. George Osborne branded aggressive tax avoidance "morally repugnant" in this year’s Budget speech.  But at the very same time, tucked away in the technical detail of the Budget, are changes that would actually water down the UK’s anti-avoidance rules for multinationals, making it easier for them to avoid taxes. 

These "Controlled Foreign Company Rules" have protected the UK tax base for the last 25 years, making it less lucrative for companies to siphon profits into tax havens, as HMRC have simply topped up the company’s overall tax rate to match the standard UK rate.

While some have inevitably found loopholes in these rules, they’ve been an important tool to discourage profit shifting into tax havens. Not only have they helped protect the UK tax base – they’ve also protected developing countries from tax avoidance by UK companies.

The Government's new proposals in the Finance Bill, currently being scrutinised in parliament, will radically alter this. The Treasury's own figures show they’ll lose revenues of almost £1bn as a result.

Developing countries, meanwhile, could lose as much as £4bn a year – almost half the UK aid budget. The OECD estimates that developing countries currently lose three times more to tax havens than they receive in aid.  This means less money that can be invested in schools, hospitals and roads, keeping countries locked in the cycle of poverty. With the government staunchly (and rightly) defending its decision to spend 0.7 per cent of GNI on aid, it seems nonsensical to be making it harder for developing countries to reduce their dependency on aid by raising their own revenues.

One chink of light is an amendment to the Finance Bill tabled by the Liberal Democrats and supported by Labour, that the changes are not made without a proper impact assessment (recommended by the IMF and World Bank), and measures to mitigate the damage. Hopefully the Conservatives on the Bill Committee will join this emerging consensus.  

Another important remedy would be to open up tax haven operations to scrutiny.  Low headline tax rates – like those in Luxembourg that Panorama claims UK companies have exploited - are just one of the attractions of tax havens for tax dodging (over half of FTSE100 companies have a total of 336 subsidiaries registered in Luxembourg). The other is secrecy. As with impenetrable Swiss bank accounts, this veil of secrecy prevents effective scrutiny of deals done in tax havens. Indeed, ActionAid research has shown that 98 of the FTSE100 use tax havens, where they locate almost 40 per cent of all their overseas subsidiaries. 82 also have operations in the developing world.

If the government is serious about tacking tax avoidance, and serious about sustainably ending poverty, it needs to be putting its weight behind international efforts to break tax haven secrecy, making multinationals publish accounts of their tax haven subsidiaries. 

Right now, though, it should urgently rethink its plans to water down the UK’s anti-tax haven rules. It should be making it harder – not easier – for British multinationals to siphon their profits into tax havens, and make sure they pay their tax bills right around the world. 

Update: Response from GlaxoSmithKline

A spokesperson for GlaxoSmithKline responded to Panorama's investigation with the following statement:

GSK is very disappointed with this programme which was extremely misleading and lacking in context.  Specifically, the programme’s selective use of facts led to a misrepresentation of GSK’s actions and a failure to recognize GSK’s significant UK tax contribution.

GSK strongly refutes any allegation of wrongdoing. At all times the company proactively disclosed its tax transactions to the relevant authorities and both the UK and Luxembourg tax authorities are agreed that GSK paid all the taxes due.

GSK is a global company with 95% of its sales outside the UK however 20% of the company’s tax bill is in the UK. In total, over the period covered in the broadcast, GSK paid around £1billion in UK corporation and business taxes, plus an additional £1.3bn through income taxes of its UK employees.

The difference between UK and EU laws in this area has always created uncertainty for global organisations like GSK. GSK supports the new Controlled Foreign Company tax rules developed by the UK government related to the taxation of overseas earnings which will provide greater certainty despite the fact that they will increase the company’s UK tax bill.”

Treasure Island: Grand Cayman, which has no income tax or corporation tax. Photograph: Getty Images

Mike Lewis is a tax justice campaigner at ActionAid

Show Hide image

Meet the hot, funny, carefree Cool Mums – the maternal version of the Cool Girl

As new film Bad Moms reveals, what the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy.

I suppose we should all be thankful. Time was when “mum’s night off” came in the form of a KFC value bucket. Now, with the advent of films such as Bad Moms – “from the gratefully married writers of The Hangover” – it looks as though mums are finally getting permission to cut loose and party hard.

This revelation could not come a moment too soon. Fellow mums, you know all those stupid rules we’ve been following? The ones where we think “god, I must do this, or it will ruin my precious child’s life”? Turns out we can say “sod it” and get pissed instead. Jon Lucas and Scott Moore said so.

I saw the trailer for Bad Moms in the cinema with my sons, waiting for Ghostbusters to start. Much as I appreciate a female-led comedy, particularly one that suggests there is virtue in shirking one’s maternal responsibilities, I have to say there was something about it that instantly made me uneasy. It seems the media is still set on making the Mommy Wars happen, pitching what one male reviewer describes as “the condescending harpies that run the PTA” against the nice, sexy mummies who just want to have fun (while also happening to look like Mila Kunis). It’s a set up we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again, and while I’m happy some attention is being paid to the pressures modern mothers are under, I sense that another is being created: the pressure to be a cool mum.

When I say “cool mum” I’m thinking of a maternal version of the cool girl, so brilliantly described in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl:

“Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.”

The cool girl isn’t like all the others. She isn’t weighed down by the pressures of femininity. She isn’t bothered about the rules because she knows how stupid they are (or at least, how stupid men think they are). She does what she likes, or at least gives the impression of doing so. No one has to feel guilty around the cool girl. She puts all other women, those uptight little princesses, to shame.

What the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy. The cool mum doesn’t bore everyone by banging on about organic food, sleeping habits or potty training. Neither hyper-controlling nor obsessively off-grid, she’s managed to combine reproducing with remaining a well-balanced person, with interests extending far beyond CBeebies and vaccination pros and cons. She laughs in the face of those anxious mummies ferrying their kids to and from a multitude of different clubs, in between making  cupcakes for the latest bake sale and sitting on the school board. The cool mum doesn’t give a damn about dirty clothes or additives. After all, isn’t the key to happy children a happy mum? Perfection is for narcissists.

It’s great spending time with the cool mum. She doesn’t make you feel guilty about all the unpaid drudgery about which other mothers complain. She’s not one to indulge in passive aggression, expecting gratitude for all those sacrifices that no one even asked her to make. She’s entertaining and funny. Instead of fretting about getting up in time to do the school run, she’ll stay up all night, drinking you under the table. Unlike the molly-coddled offspring of the helicopter mum or the stressed-out kids of the tiger mother, her children are perfectly content and well behaved, precisely because they’ve learned that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Mummy’s a person, too.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, just how well this works out. Just as the cool girl manages to meet all the standards for patriarchal fuckability without ever getting neurotic about diets, the cool mum raises healthy, happy children without ever appearing to be doing any actual motherwork. Because motherwork, like dieting, is dull. The only reason any woman would bother with either of them is out of some misplaced sense of having to compete with other women. But what women don’t realise – despite the best efforts of men such as the Bad Moms writers to educate us on this score – is that the kind of woman who openly obsesses over her children or her looks isn’t worth emulating. On the contrary, she’s a selfish bitch.

For what could be more selfish than revealing to the world that the performance of femininity doesn’t come for free? That our female bodies are not naturally hairless, odourless, fat-free playgrounds? That the love and devotion we give our children – the very care work that keeps them alive – is not something that just happens regardless of whether or not we’ve had to reimagine our entire selves to meet their needs? No one wants to know about the efforts women make to perform the roles which men have decided come naturally to us. It’s not that we’re not still expected to be perfect partners and mothers. It’s not as though someone else is on hand to pick up the slack if we go on strike. It’s just that we’re also required to pretend that our ideals of physical and maternal perfection are not imposed on us by our position in a social hierarchy. On the contrary, they’re meant to be things we’ve dreamed up amongst ourselves, wilfully, if only because each of us is a hyper-competitive, self-centred mean girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if the biggest pressures mothers faced really did come from other mothers. Alas, this really isn’t true. Let’s look, for instance, at the situation in the US, where Bad Moms is set. I have to say, if I were living in a place where a woman could be locked up for drinking alcohol while pregnant, where she could be sentenced to decades behind bars for failing to prevent an abusive partner from harming her child, where she could be penalised in a custody case on account of being a working mother – if I were living there, I’d be more than a little paranoid about fucking up, too. It’s all very well to say “give yourself a break, it’s not as though the motherhood police are out to get you”. Actually, you might find that they are, especially if, unlike Kunis’s character in Bad Moms, you happen to be poor and/or a woman of colour.

Even when the stakes are not so high, there is another reason why mothers are stressed that has nothing to do with pressures of our own making. We are not in need of mindfulness, bubble baths nor even booze (although the latter would be gratefully received). We are stressed because we are raising children in a culture which strictly compartmentalises work, home and leisure. When one “infects” the other – when we miss work due to a child’s illness, or have to absent ourselves to express breastmilk at social gatherings, or end up bringing a toddler along to work events – this is seen as a failure on our part. We have taken on too much. Work is work and life is life, and the two should never meet.

No one ever says “the separation between these different spheres – indeed, the whole notion of work/life balance – is an arbitrary construct. It shouldn’t be down to mothers to maintain these boundaries on behalf of everyone else.” Throughout human history different cultures have combined work and childcare. Yet ours has decreed that when women do so they are foolishly trying to “have it all”, ignoring the fact that no one is offering mothers any other way of raising children while maintaining some degree of financial autonomy. These different spheres ought to be bleeding into one another.  If we are genuinely interested in destroying hierarchies by making boundaries more fluid, these are the kind of boundaries we should be looking at. The problem lies not with identities – good mother, bad mother, yummy mummy, MILF – but with the way in which we understand and carry out our day-to-day tasks.

But work is boring. Far easier to think that nice mothers are held back, not by actual exploitation, but by meanie alpha mummies making up arbitrary, pointless rules. And yes, I’d love to be a bad mummy, one who stands up and says no to all that. Wouldn’t we all? I’d be all for smashing the matriarchy, if that were the actual problem here, but it’s not.

It’s not that mummies aren’t allowing each other to get down and party. God knows, we need it. It’s just that it’s a lot less fun when you know the world will still be counting on you to clear up afterwards.  

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.