Is the graduate tax actually fairer?

Paying for education indefinitely is more likely to act as a deterrent to poor students.

In his first key speech on higher education, Vince Cable has outlined proposals for cutting costs in universities. The graduate tax, which Cable claims would be fairer and more sustainable, has attracted the most attention.

Under the current system, students take a loan from the government which they use to pay their tuition fees and part of their living costs. This is paid back gradually when the graduate starts earning more than £15,000.

At first glance, that sounds rather similar to the measure being proposed -- money is paid over someone's career, and the amount increases with earnings. The main difference is that the graduate tax will be infinite; in effect, it will mean that graduates are permanently paying a higher rate of income tax.

The jury is out on whether this is "progressive" or not. The main argument in its favour is that it would be linked to income, meaning that high earners will ultimately pay more and could subsidise those less well off.

Ed Balls -- a proponent of the graduate tax -- said it means that graduates will contribute to costs, "but only once they are in work and clearly based on their ability to pay".

I'm not convinced by this. It is already the case that repayments start only once you are earning, and the situation would presumably stay the same if fees were to rise further. The difference is that, currently, everyone ends up paying the same amount, whereas the idea under the new system would be for the rich to end up paying more.

There are many problems with this. While the National Union of Students has been advocating a graduate tax for the past four years, they have also pointed out that a graduate tax can fail to take into account the diminishing importance of education and the increased role of work experience in establishing a career (note: they believe that their proposed model neutralises this). Paul Cottrell of the University and College Union (UCU) argues that poor graduates could even end up paying a higher percentage of their income through a tax than through a loan system.

Two years ago, Sutton Trust research on the impact of tuition fees showed that teenagers from poorer families were forgoing a university education because they were concerned about debt.

Another argument for a graduate tax is that abolishing the upfront payment aspect would remove this deterrent. This is disingenuous. As it stands, it is assumed that you will pay back your fees at a later date. You fill in a form for a loan, and the money goes straight to the university without passing through your bank account.

While a graduate tax could be framed as the abolition of fees, I find it difficult to believe that essentially paying for your education for ever would be less of a deterrent than a fixed amount of debt. Surveys have shown students concerned that they will be paying back their student debt for a decade; surely, permanently paying more tax is worse?

I'm inclined to agree with Sally Hunt of the UCU, who has called the proposal "an exercise in rebranding". Isn't this just higher fees by a different name?

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Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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