A graduate tax is the fairest solution

As a sixth-former, I think a graduate tax would increase social mobility and maintain world-class hi

When hundreds of thousands of students take out their iPod headphones and tear themselves away from Call of Duty to rally in the streets, you know the government has done something seriously wrong. After all the pre-election talk of a fairer education system, why does the coalition think that increasing tuition fees and slashing the teaching budget by 80 per cent will achieve this?

Make no mistake, the steep rise in fees will stop huge numbers of bright, but less affluent students from applying to university. Coupled with higher interest rates on these fees, it creates a daunting prospect. As a sixth-form pupil, I can confirm that there is a growing attitude within our year group at school that university is becoming an unaffordable option. This is not only completely unfair, but crucially, it also reduces Britain's ability to produce a high-quality workforce. Surely the government cannot ignore the long-term problems of restricting university access only to those who can afford it? They wouldn't be making such important policies while only thinking ahead as far as the next election, would they?

It's fine to complain – and even to take to the streets in protest – but that is pointless unless solutions can be found. One alternative being explored is the introduction of a graduate tax, a policy endorsed by the Labour Party and the National Union of Students. It seems a good solution – allowing the abolition of upfront fees, replaced by the introduction of a heavier income tax on graduates (an additional 0.3-2.5 per cent) based on the type and location of the course. This tax would last for roughly 20 years and would be paid only if the graduate was employed and earning in excess of £15,000 a year.

This would be fairer than the current system, because lower-income graduates would bear less of a burden than if they paid a fixed price for fees. This in turn would create an incentive for students from a low-income background to strive for higher education, increasing social mobility. Of course, higher-income graduates might end up paying more under the system – but then, they can afford to.

The graduate tax also prevents huge debts in interest payments accumulating, making it an efficient way of funding higher education. And it would prevent the creation of a market in fees, which would force students to choose their university based on price. Admittedly, graduate tax would fall hardest on those whose education costs were high and salaries were low – this would include those in vital jobs such as teaching, social work and nursing. But this can be counteracted by reducing the rate of graduate tax in these sectors of employment. After all, such a tax would raise more revenue in the long run than the proposed fees system.

But would a graduate tax work in reality? When Vince Cable first hinted at the possibility, he described it as a "variable graduate contribution tied to earnings", cunningly avoiding the lead balloon that is the word "tax". It shows how clever wording and public image have become more important than policy.

Inevitably, there are criticisms of the graduate tax. Russell Group universities are opposed because they fear they would only get the same level of funding from the tax as less elite institutions. Yet this doesn't have to be the case – funding could be linked to how much tax revenue is gained from that university's graduates. For example, if Oxford students paid 10 per cent of the national total of graduate of tax that year, then Oxford would receive the same 10 per cent as their funding.

Admittedly the setting up of a trust fund to collect graduate tax, and funding the universities during the lag time between the introduction of a graduate tax and when its full benefits are reaped, would be a sizeable task – but a worthwhile one in the long run.

Call me an idealist, but an efficient graduate tax could completely remove the burden of higher education from the general taxpayer. Even so, a combination of graduate tax and government funding derived from general taxation should be the answer to funding a world-class standard of higher education. I still think that the taxpayer should contribute to higher education because of the benefits to Britain of having highly educated workers. After all, the next generation of workers will be the ones driving the economy – while those who have enjoyed heavily subsidised higher education in past decades sit back and draw their pensions.

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org