David Miliband becomes Labour’s lone star against a graduate tax

Unlike the other leadership candidates, Miliband stands firmly against a graduate tax to save univer

In a speech on education in Bristol today, David Miliband has marked himself out as the one and only Labour leadership candidate not to back a graduate tax. That is not to say he wants to see higher education scaled back; he doesn't just oppose the coalition cut of 10,000 university places, he actually argues for even greater expansion of university participation to 60 per cent.

Diane Abbott voted against the government when Labour legislated for variable tuition fees in 2004 and was a vocal advocate for a graduate tax. Ed Balls now tells us that he argued at the time for a graduate tax from his position inside the Treasury.

Andy Burnham said he was attracted to a graduate tax at the early hustings events and at the weekend Ed Miliband said he would develop a graduate tax proposal to submit to Lord Browne's inquiry into higher education finance.

But today, David Miliband marked himself out by refusing to fall in line and saying that university "expansion must not come at the expense of quality . . . graduates, not students, will need to contribute more. There are a number of ways of achieving that, such as reforms to the student loan system or variations on a graduate contribution scheme. But the principles are clear: cost must not deter access and contributions must be based on ability to pay."

His argument for increasing the participation rate is a compelling and economically literate one. In the UK currently, 45 per cent of the under-30s attend university -- a lower level than for Finland, Australia and New Zealand. And Barack Obama has pledged that by 2020, America will once again have the highest proportion of university graduates in the world, surpassing the top country, South Korea, which has 53 per cent.

Future-proof

Ed Balls gets criticised for his advocacy of "post-neoclassical endogenous growth theory", but investing in a world-class university sector is now a consensus response to globalisation. Successful innovation clusters invariably have world-class universities at their heart, as well as highly skilled workforces that stop the race to the bottom while sustaining quality jobs in the most future-proof of industries.

So, if all the candidates are in a similar place in opposing higher education cuts, why is David Miliband striking out and seeking to differentiate himself on higher education funding? Why call for growth in the sector without explaining how to finance it? What is the difference between a "graduate contribution scheme" and "a graduate tax"? What are the "reforms to the student loan system" that appeal to him?

One contributor to an online Q&A Ed Miliband took part in yesterday criticised the graduate tax idea for discouraging students from living "frugally". But as Ed Miliband argued, it all depends on whether a new graduate tax is used to fund university tuition or student living costs. One of the challenges for the Browne review is get a fair balance of funding for universities themselves and for student maintenance support.

An open debate about the range of alternatives is exactly what Labour needs this leadership contest to be about: not a contest of characters and personalities, but of policies and ideas. Abbott, Balls, Burnham and Ed Miliband need to explain how much a graduate tax would be and whether they propose any exemptions.

Today, however, David Miliband has done what Ed Balls did over immigration and made himself a lone star in a big policy debate. Expect him to be challenged on why at the hustings in Lambeth tonight.

Richard Darlington is head of the Open Left project at Demos.

Richard Darlington is Head of News at IPPR. Follow him on Twitter @RDarlo.

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We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

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