Does minimum pricing work?

The PM will indicate support for the measure to reduce problem drinking. But does it make sense?

Anyone who's ever come home from a night out with an empty wallet will groan at the thought, but David Cameron is to indicate support for putting a minimum price on alcohol today. During a visit to a hospital in the north-east, he will say that excess consumption of alcohol is costing the NHS £2.7bn a year. This comes ahead of a government strategy on alcohol, due to be published soon after nearly a year of consultation with health professionals and the drinks industry.

If minimum prices are endorsed, it will mark a change in the government's policy. Cameron is instinctively opposed to further regulation, while the public health minister, Ann Milton, has queried whether it would be legal under European free trade legislation. Scotland, which has gone furthest on prices, is still testing the legality.

Of course, minimum prices will have the greatest impact on supermarkets and shops, where discount selling is more common than in pubs or bars. But is it an effective way to reduce dangerous drinking and alcohol-related problems?

Minimum prices would have most effect on the cheapest, strongest end of the spectrum, substantially upping the price of budget ciders (like the notorious, discontinued White Lightning). Some of these could more than double in price. For this reason, it has gained the support of a wide range of health campaigners: upping the prices of these drinks could target the most problematic drinkers.

Over at the BBC, Branwen Jeffreys explains some of the evidence cited by those in favour of the move:

Those who support a minimum price say there is strong evidence internationally that price is linked to consumption, and higher consumption is linked to higher harm. They point to Finland where in 2004 a dramatic cut in prices via taxes led within a year to an increase of 9% in consumption, according to official figures.

Most alcohol in Finland is sold through tightly controlled government-run shops. By 2005 alcohol-related problems were the most common cause of death among Finns of working age.

A 2008 model by the University of Sheffield suggested that a high enough minimum price could significantly reduce the impact and cost of alcohol to society. It found that problem drinkers seek out the cheapest ways to get drunk as they tend to be either young or those who drink a lot, and therefore would change their behaviour in response to price increases more than moderate drinkers would. (It has been strongly challenged by the drinks industry).

While the international examples may be compelling, it is worth pointing out that minimum prices have not yet been introduced in a country with a history of few limitations on the sale of alcohol. States in Canada which have used minimum pricing have a history of prohibition, and the Nordic countries have a tradition of selling alcohol through government-owned shops. That's why the example of Scotland will be watched closely.

On the other hand, some question the efficacy of minimum pricing on economic grounds. Tim Harford points out that it would up the profit margins of supermarkets -- and that in fact, if they decided a minimum price amongst themselves (rather than having one imposed by the government), they would be in breach of competition laws. He recommends increasing taxation further instead, as this would ensure that prices rise in proportion and would put the extra revenue in the hands of government rather than supermarkets. Rather paradoxically, minimum prices could make cheap alcohol a very lucrative product for supermarkets (because of the mark up).

Although the long-term benefits to society are difficult to prove conclusively, most people would agree that less cheap alcohol would have a positive effect. The evidence that alcohol consumption goes down when prices goes up is fairly strong. The best economic method of doing this remains to be seen.

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

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Everyone's forgotten the one issue that united the Labour party

There was a time when Ed Miliband spoke at Momentum rallies.

To label the row over the EU at Thursday’s Labour leadership hustings "fireworks" would be to endow it with more beauty than it deserves. Owen Smith’s dogged condemnation of John McDonnell’s absence from a Remain rally – only for Corbyn to point out that his absence was for medical reasons – ought to go down as a cringing new low point in the campaign. 

Not so long ago, we were all friends. In the course of the EU referendum, almost all of the protagonists in the current debacle spoke alongside each other and praised one another’s efforts. At a local level, party activists of all stripes joined forces. Two days before polling day, Momentum activists helped organise an impromptu rally. Ed Miliband was the headline speaker, and was cheered on. 

If you take the simple version of the debate, Labour’s schism on the EU appears as an aberration of the usual dynamics of left and right in the party. Labour's left is supposedly cheering a position which avoids advocating what it believes in (Remain), because it would lose votes. Meanwhile, the right claims to be dying in a ditch for its principles - no matter what the consequences for Labour’s support in Leave-voting heartlands.

Smith wants to oppose Brexit, even after the vote, on the basis of using every available procedural mechanism. He would whip MPs against the invocation of Article 50, refuse to implement it in government, and run on a manifesto of staying in the EU. For the die-hard Europhiles on the left – and I count myself among these, having run the Another Europe is Possible campaign during the referendum – there ought to be no contest as to who to support. On a result that is so damaging to people’s lives and so rooted in prejudice, how could we ever accept that there is such a thing as a "final word"? 

And yet, on the basic principles that lie behind a progressive version of EU membership, such as freedom of movement, Smith seems to contradict himself. Right at the outset of the Labour leadership, Smith took to Newsnight to express his view – typical of many politicians moulded in the era of New Labour – that Labour needed to “listen” to the views Leave voters by simply adopting them, regardless of whether or not they were right. There were, he said, “too many” immigrants in some parts of the country. 

Unlike Smith, Corbyn has not made his post-Brexit policy a headline feature of the campaign, and it is less widely understood. But it is clear, via the five "red lines" outlined by John McDonnell at the end of June:

  1. full access to the single market
  2. membership of the European investment bank
  3. access to trading rights for financial services sector
  4. full residency rights for all EU nationals in the UK and all UK nationals in the EU, and
  5. the enshrinement of EU protections for workers. 

Without these five conditions being met, Labour would presumably not support the invocation of Article 50. So if, as seems likely, a Conservative government would never meet these five conditions, would there be any real difference in how a Corbyn leadership would handle the situation? 

The fight over the legacy of the referendum is theatrical at times. The mutual mistrust last week played out on the stage in front of a mass televised audience. Some Corbyn supporters jeered Smith as he made the case for another referendum. Smith accused Corbyn of not even voting for Remain, and wouldn’t let it go. But, deep down, the division is really about a difference of emphasis. 

It speaks to a deeper truth about the future of Britain in Europe. During the referendum, the establishment case for Remain floundered because it refused to make the case that unemployment and declining public services were the result of austerity, not immigrants. Being spearheaded by Conservatives, it couldn’t. It fell to the left to offer the ideological counter attack that was needed – and we failed to reach enough people. 

As a result, what we got was a popular mandate for petty racism and a potentially long-term shift to the right in British politics, endangering a whole raft of workplace and legal protections along the way. Now that it has happened, anyone who really hopes to overcome either Brexit, or the meaning of Brexit, has to address the core attitudes and debates at their root. Then as now, it is only clear left-wing ideas – free from any attempt to triangulate towards anti-migrant sentiment– that can have any hope of success. 

The real dividing lines in Labour are not about the EU. If they were, the Eurosceptic Frank Field would not be backing Smith. For all that it may be convenient to deny it, Europe was once, briefly, the issue that united the Labour Party. One day, the issues at stake in the referendum may do so again – but only if Labour consolidates itself around a strategy for convincing people of ideas, rather than simply reaching for procedural levers.