Osborne’s attack on flexible working will harm family life

The Chancellor has taken the axe to a regulation that boosts productivity.

George Osborne is right that businesses should be freed from the shackles of high tax and unnecessary regulation so that they can focus on driving growth in our economy by creating new jobs and wealth.

Wednesday's announcement that corporation tax will be dropped by 2 per cent from this April is welcome. As is the abolition of 43 tax reliefs and the gradual merger of National Insurance and income tax.

But the Chancellor, in his desperate rush to appear pro-business, has taken the axe to a regulation that in fact boosts productivity: the extension of flexible working rights for employees.

Clear the clutter, set businesses free from top-down diktats, is his view. The Chancellor ought to drop the ideology and cultivate a more sophisticated, evidence-based critique of regulations. Some hamper growth, and must surely be repealed, but others have proved positive for both society and business.

One such case is parents' right to request flexible working, introduced by the Labour government in 2003. Slowly, it has been expanded to more and more parents, so today over ten million with children under the age of 16 have the right to request flexible working from their employer.

The regulation has brought about a positive cultural change in our society. Between 2003 and 2007, there was a sizeable increase in flexible working arrangements available to parents – whether that be part-time working, flexitime, working from home or compressed hours.

It has contributed to increased lone-parent employment in the 2000s, ensuring that these parents can access jobs which are compatible with their familial duties. Research shows that both men and women, who report wanting to spend more quality time with their children, are now doing just that.

More businesses, many initially sceptical, have gradually embraced flexible working, the regulation helping to demonstrate its advantages. Fifty-eight per cent of employers report significant improvements in staff productivity with family-friendly working arrangements . From Microsoft and BT to Sandwell Community Caring Trust in the West Midlands, employers say productivity has improved. They open themselves up to a wider recruitment pool, enhancing their ability to attract and retain the best staff.

During the downturn at the back end of the last decade, employers reached for flexible working as a solution to cutting costs: keeping staff but reducing their hours. KPMG offered 11,000 employees a four-day week in 2009, impressively holding on to most of its staff members.

Flexible working really is the future, with nine in ten 16-year-olds aspiring to flexible work. It provides solutions to many pressing policy problems. Congestion on our transport network can be eased by staggered starting times and home working. Time is one of the principal obstacles to volunteering; flexible working gives us that time, supporting the development of the "big society".

Lamentably, Osborne's Budget has halted the extension of the right to request flexible working to parents with children between the ages of 16 and 18. It is both odd and unnecessary, as it was only a right to request, not demand, flexibility: businesses have the right to veto. What this does is send the signal to businesses, wrongly, that flexible working is burdensome.

On top of this, the moratorium for small businesses on the implementation of any new domestic regulation, coming in addition to the review of all existing regulations, threatens plans for the extension of flexible working to all, proudly trumpeted only a year ago in the Coalition Agreement. Gone are the days before the general election when the Tories talked of building a "family-friendly Britain", boasting of their plans to go further than Labour on flexible working.

Family life and the "big society", bedrocks of Cameron's Conservatism, will suffer from this careless policy.

Ryan Shorthouse works at the Social Market Foundation and was an adviser to the Conservatives on family policy before the last general election.

Ryan Shorthouse is the Director of Bright Blue, a think tank for liberal conservativism 

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It’s obvious why Thais can’t resist our English footballers. But they want our schools, too

The only explanation is . . . our footer must be great and exciting to watch.

At Bangkok airport, sitting in the Club lounge, as I am a toff, I spotted a copy of Thailand Tatler, a publication I did not know existed. Flicking through, I came across a whole page advert announcing that RUGBY SCHOOL IS COMING TO THAILAND.

In September, Rugby will open a prep and pre-prep department, and then, in 2018, full boarding for ages up to 17. How exciting – yet another English public school sets up a satellite in Thailand.

But I was confused. Just as I was confused all week by the Thai passion for our football.

How has it happened that English public schools and English football have become so popular in Thailand? There is no colonial or historical connection between the UK and Thailand. English is not the Thais’ first language, unlike in other parts of the world such as India and Hong Kong. Usually that explains the continuation of British traditions, culture and games long after independence.

When I go to foreign parts, I always take a large wodge of Beatles and football postcards. I find deprived persons all over the world are jolly grateful for these modern versions of shiny beads – and it saves tipping the hotel staff. No young Thai locals were interested in my Beatles bits, but boy, my footer rubbish had them frothing.

I took a stash of seven-year-old postcards of Andy Carroll in his Newcastle strip, part of a set given away free in Barclays banks when they sponsored the Premier League. I assumed no one in Thailand would know who the hell Andy Carroll was, but blow me, every hotel waiter and taxi driver recognised him, knew about his various clubs and endless injuries. And they all seemed to watch every Premiership game live.

I have long been cynical about the boasts that our Prem League is the most watched, the most popular in the world, with 200 countries taking our TV coverage every week. I was once in Turkey and went into the hotel lounge to watch the live footer. It was chocka with Turks watching a local game, shouting and screaming. When it finished, the lounge emptied: yet the next game was our FA Cup live. So I watched it on my own. Ever since, I’ve suspected that while Sky might sell rights everywhere, it doesn’t mean many other folk are watching.

But in Thailand I could see their passion, though most of them have no experience of England. So the only explanation is . . . our footer must be great and exciting to watch. Hurrah for us.

Explaining the passion for English public schools is a bit harder. At present in Thailand, there are about 14 boarding schools based on the English public-school system.

Rugby is only the latest arrival. Harrow has had a sister school there since 1998. So do Shrewsbury, Bromsgrove and Dulwich College (recently renamed British International School, Phuket).

But then I met Anthony Lark, the general manager of the beautiful resort where I was staying in the north of the island. He’s Australian, been out there for thirty years, married to a Thai. All three of his sons went to the Phuket school when it was still Dulwich International College.

His explanations for the popularity of all these British-style schools included the fact that Thailand is the gateway to Asia, easy to get to from India and China; that it’s relatively safe; economically prosperous, with lots of rich people; and, of course, it’s stunningly beautiful, with lovely weather.

There are 200,000 British expats in Thailand but they are in the minority in most of these British-style public schools – only about 20 per cent of the intake. Most pupils are the children of Thais, or from the surrounding nations.

Many of the teachers, though, are from English-speaking nations. Anthony estimated there must be about five thousand of them, so the schools must provide a lot of work. And presumably a lot of income. And, of course, pride.

Well, I found my little chest swelling at the thought that two of our oldest national institutions should be so awfully popular, so awfully far away from home . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 27 April 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Cool Britannia 20 Years On

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