What Cameron and Clegg could learn from Churchill and Lloyd George

The People's Budget of 1909 introduced an array of unprecedented measures to tackle poverty and inequality. Its stated ambition was to be "a great step towards that good time, when poverty, and the wretchedness and human degradation which always follows in its camp, will be as remote to the people of this country as the wolves which once infested its forests". Among the radical policy measures harnessed to achieve this ambitious goal were a land tax and an increase to inheritance tax. The People's Budget had its most staunch champions in David Lloyd George and Churchill, known to their contemporaries as the "Terrible Twins".

The Budget to be proposed this Wednesday by the government under the leadership of David Cameron and Nick Clegg is not going to have comparable ambitions. The series of vitriolic attacks on the idea of a "mansion tax" is a good indicator that taxes on wealth would not meet with much enthusiasm in Westminster in the current climate. However, while remaining fiscally "neutral", this Budget is likely to have far reaching ideological repercussions. The two central proposals of the coalition partners: the Tory abolition of the 50p rate of income tax and the Lib Dem move towards the £10,000 income tax threshold -- if implemented -- have the potential to drive a wedge between the rich and the poor.

First, take the Tory idea of scrapping the 50p rate. The debate over the fiscal benefit of keeping the 50 per cent tax rate continues; politically, the die has been cast. This move is controversial -- as the Guardian/ICM poll reveals -- two thirds of voters are in favour of maintaining the 50p tax rate. Indeed, in terms of people's perceptions of fairness, it is relatively easy to see why lowering the income tax for the richest 1 per cent of earners who get at least 6 times the national median income, might be seen as exacerbating social inequalities. It might not be equally obvious why this should be the case with a policy once considered to be "political gold": the Lib Dem proposal to raise the level at which people start paying income tax to £10,000.

Scrutiny reveals that not all that glitters is gold. The Institute for Fiscal Studies recently showed that the £10,000 threshold for income tax is likely to benefit the richest households most, while leaving intact the plight of those who earn so very little that they don't even qualify to pay income tax. Even more problematically, it is also feared that this move could make a number of middle-income families lose child benefit and exacerbate the already dire financial situation of the "squeezed middle-class". What is particularly interesting in the context of this argument concerned with the impact of the Budget measures on the levels of inequality and the perception of fairness is that the proposal to lift a group of people beyond income tax will result in the stigmatisation of the poor as "undeserving".

There would be a big difference, on this proposal, between anyone earning £10,000 or less, who would pay no income tax at all, and those on middle incomes, who would get the first £10,000 they earn tax free. As Clegg himself observed once, the latter belong to a group of people "whose incomes are too high to qualify for welfare benefits, but too low to provide any real financial security". They are the "ordinary, hardworking people"; and they would be likely to hold in deep contempt those exempt from paying income tax altogether, and yet eligible to receive benefits -- that is, ordinary, often hardworking, but, in the opinion of middle Britain, "undeserving" people.

The reason is plain. The success of William Beveridge's legacy rests on the ideas, first, of linking together the notions of citizenship and welfare and, second, of using taxation as a bridge between citizens and the state. Contribution and entitlement are inexorably bound together, in the same way that citizens are bound to the state through taxation. What is at stake here is the sense of collective responsibility and identity. The proposal to exempt a group of people from their contractual obligation with the state is likely to have far reaching consequences for how these people are perceived by the rest of society. Lifting them out of the income tax net will result in a politics of us and them -- we are not all in it together since only some of us pay, since only some of us receive benefits. There is a better way of helping those who desperately need it: make them less poor by enforcing the living wage regulation, and make them more "deserving" by allowing them to exercise their citizenship responsibilities and requiring them to pay a very low marginal taxation rate on the first £10,000.

In the lead up to Budget day, the government of a nation eviscerated by inequalities -- where 40 per cent of all the wealth is owned by 5 per cent of the population and 70 per cent of approximately 60 million acres of land owned by less than 1 per cent of the population -- should not exacerbate the perception of unfairness. Needless to say, the most effective way of tackling these perceptions would be to change the reality. In order to tackle inequality in a serious way, the coalition government need a set of policies as radical as those introduced in 1909 by the government under Lloyd George and Winston Churchill when they put forward a proposal for a land value tax. Of course, the Terrible Twins' Bill was never implemented; it was opposed by the House of Lords as "a menace to property and a Socialistic spirit". Yet, for a short time it carried the promise of a Budget truly preoccupied with fighting inequalities. Sadly, if all goes according to plan and the two main ideas of the current coalition partners are implemented -- unlike the People's Budget of 1909 -- the 2012 Budget is likely to be commemorated as the Budget of Two Nations "between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy [...] as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets: the rich and the poor."

Patricia Kaszynska is senior researcher and project manager at ResPublica

 

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The deafening killer - why noise will be the next great pollution scandal

A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. 

Our cities are being poisoned by a toxin that surrounds us day and night. It eats away at our brains, hurts our hearts, clutches at our sleep, and gnaws at the quality of our daily lives.

Hardly a silent killer, it gets short shrift compared to the well-publicised terrors of air pollution and sugars food. It is the dull, thumping, stultifying drum-beat of perpetual noise.

The score that accompanies city life is brutal and constant. It disrupts the everyday: The coffee break ruined by the screech of a line of double decker buses braking at the lights. The lawyer’s conference call broken by drilling as she makes her way to the office. The writer’s struggle to find a quiet corner to pen his latest article.

For city-dwellers, it’s all-consuming and impossible to avoid. Construction, traffic, the whirring of machinery, the neighbour’s stereo. Even at home, the beeps and buzzes made by washing machines, fridges, and phones all serve to distract and unsettle.

But the never-ending noisiness of city life is far more than a problem of aesthetics. A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. Recent studies have linked noise pollution to hearing loss, sleep deprivation, hypertension, heart disease, brain development, and even increased risk of dementia.

One research team compared families living on different stories of the same building in Manhattan to isolate the impact of noise on health and education. They found children in lower, noisier floors were worse at reading than their higher-up peers, an effect that was most pronounced for children who had lived in the building for longest.

Those studies have been replicated for the impact of aircraft noise with similar results. Not only does noise cause higher blood pressure and worsens quality of sleep, it also stymies pupils trying to concentrate in class.

As with many forms of pollution, the poorest are typically the hardest hit. The worst-off in any city often live by busy roads in poorly-insulated houses or flats, cheek by jowl with packed-in neighbours.

The US Department of Transport recently mapped road and aircraft noise across the United States. Predictably, the loudest areas overlapped with some of the country’s most deprived. Those included the south side of Atlanta and the lowest-income areas of LA and Seattle.

Yet as noise pollution grows in line with road and air traffic and rising urban density, public policy has turned a blind eye.

Council noise response services, formally a 24-hour defence against neighbourly disputes, have fallen victim to local government cuts. Decisions on airport expansion and road development pay scant regard to their audible impact. Political platforms remain silent on the loudest poison.

This is odd at a time when we have never had more tools at our disposal to deal with the issue. Electric Vehicles are practically noise-less, yet noise rarely features in the arguments for their adoption. Just replacing today’s bus fleet would transform city centres; doing the same for taxis and trucks would amount to a revolution.

Vehicles are just the start. Millions were spent on a programme of “Warm Homes”; what about “Quiet Homes”? How did we value the noise impact in the decision to build a third runway at Heathrow, and how do we compensate people now that it’s going ahead?

Construction is a major driver of decibels. Should builders compensate “noise victims” for over-drilling? Or could regulation push equipment manufacturers to find new ways to dampen the sound of their kit?

Of course, none of this addresses the noise pollution we impose on ourselves. The bars and clubs we choose to visit or the music we stick in our ears. Whether pumping dance tracks in spin classes or indie rock in trendy coffee shops, people’s desire to compensate for bad noise out there by playing louder noise in here is hard to control for.

The Clean Air Act of 1956 heralded a new era of city life, one where smog and grime gave way to clear skies and clearer lungs. That fight still goes on today.

But some day, we will turn our attention to our clogged-up airwaves. The decibels will fall. #Twitter will give way to twitter. And every now and again, as we step from our homes into city life, we may just hear the sweetest sound of all. Silence.

Adam Swersky is a councillor in Harrow and is cabinet member for finance. He writes in a personal capacity.