Why Osborne is wrong on the Robin Hood Tax

The Chancellor has framed the debate as an EU attack on British prosperity. This does not stand-up.

George Osborne ripped back his well maintained veneer of ambivalence towards the Robin Hood Tax this week, revealing his true identity as the protector of the privileged few in City.

Having been given the advice of the IMF, Bill Gates and the European Commission who have all shown Financial Transaction Taxes (FTTs) are feasible, Osborne chose to ignore them, declaring instead it would be "economic suicide". But while his attempt to frame the debate as an EU attack on British prosperity may have superficial appeal -- John Major has made a similar attack today, claiming in the Guardian that an FTT would fan the flames of Euroscepticism -- it does not stand-up to economic scrutiny.

Let's start with the growth argument. Earlier this year, Osborne increased VAT (the transactions tax we all pay in the real economy) by 2.5 per cent to 20 per cent. VAT increases push up prices and are certainly not good for growth and they hit the poorest twice as hard as the rich. Yet now Osborne is casting a 0.05 per cent tax on the financial transactions of investment banks and hedge funds as bad for growth. The irony is of course, that as the IMF pointed out, financial transactions are VAT exempt.

The fact that a Robin Hood Tax would raise billions to protect jobs, services and the poorest was handily ignored. So too was the fact it would rein in rogue elements of the financial sector responsible for a crisis that will, according to the Bank of England, ultimately cost the UK at least £1.8 trillion and as much as £7.4 trillion in lost GDP. The biggest threat to our long term growth is surely an unrestrained financial sector and not a 0.05 per cent tax on their transactions. Any job losses are likely to occur in the exclusive corners of the investment banks a million miles away from high street banking.

Osborne's claim that not a single bank would pay this tax is plain wrong. The bit he did get right is that banks as intermediaries would not pay the tax, but the parties initiating the trades would. So who are initiating the trades? Er, it's the banks. And other financial institutions such as hedge funds who represent high net worth individuals and the richest segments of society. It's why the IMF has said an FTT would in all likelihood be "highly progressive": being paid by those most able to afford it.

More surprising than Osborne's offensive has been Vince Cable's amazing transformation. Cable himself has on a number of occasions supported the Robin Hood Tax, it's even in the Liberal Democrat manifesto. Until Wednesday that is, when he described it as a "tax on Britain", seemingly conflating the financial sector with the UK as a whole.

Worse still, Cable resorted to citing the infamous Swedish FTT from the 1980s. Focusing on this example, unique in its bad design, whilst omitting to mention the Stamp Duty on UK shares which successfully raises the Exchequer more than £3 billion a year, is disingenuous at best. It's a bit like showing us a picture of a square-wheeled bike as evidence that all bicycles are flawed, having just arrived by bike. The key to the Stamp Duty's success is the way it is levied; wherever in the world a UK share is traded - London, New York or the Cayman Islands - the tax still has to be paid.

Osborne and Cable were right about one thing however; no one wants all this money to disappear into the European coffers. A Robin Hood Tax has received such massive support -- from the UK public (who back it by two to one), the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Vatican and millions around the world -- not just because it would curtail casino capitalism but also because it would help tackle poverty and climate change at home and abroad.

Thankfully, the threat of co-option into a "Brussels tax" is overblown. As the Germans recently pointed out, each country would collect the tax nationally. Our campaign wants to see half the money spent helping poor countries and half (that's billions of pounds) spent protecting schools and hospitals, teachers and nurses at home. So, far from the size of the UK's financial sector meaning we have the most to lose from an FTT, we have the most to gain.

By ignoring the positives and exaggerating the negatives the government is compiling themselves a dodgy dossier of reasons not to back the Robin Hood Tax. In doing so they risk putting themselves at odds with public opinion and international momentum behind ensuring the financial sector pays its fair share.

Simon Chouffot is the Robin Hood Tax campaign's spokesperson

Simon Chouffot is a spokesperson for the Robin Hood Tax campaign and writes on the role of the financial sector in our society.

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.