The pre-budget airwaves are quiet... too quiet

Is that because no news is good news?

The pre-budget airwaves, normally teaming with feverish speculation, are ominously quiet. There doesn't even appear to be a 'book' on how long the Chancellor will speak for (or not that I have come across yet at least).

Unless George can produce the ubiquitous (most likely scrawny and headlight-dazzled) rabbit out of his (or anyone else's) hat, we think the Budget will aim principally for stability, with few big changes and a broadly pro-business stance to keep encouraging growth. In terms of predictions as they might affect those in the private wealth industry, we can predict what he won't do (and a little of what he might), with some confidence:

Inheritance tax won't be abolished and the Nil Rate Band won't be increased (OK - we already know that). Tinkering might involve a resurrection of the well-rehearsed fear that the Chancellor might abolish the provision whereby you can vary a will or intestacy within two years of death (usually to take advantage of an exemption from inheritance tax for gifts to charity, spouse or relief for business or agricultural assets), or even perhaps the seven-year rule for gifts, but we think this is unlikely. Given that it raises little in terms of revenue we don't think the rate will be changed either.

Capital gains tax: The extension to non-UK individuals could have been made when liability was extended to non-UK corporates in relation to real property. Although some see this in itself as an anomaly, the rates have been tinkered with over recent years without much evidence in terms of overall increase in the UK 'tax take'.

Income tax: A further reduction from the incoming 45% is unlikely, as are any major changes to other rates or (we hope) further meddling with pensions. The personal allowance could rise to £10,000 or even more, to ensure that those on the minimum wage (around £11,200 p.a.) do not pay tax.

Mansion tax: Although it has been much discussed, this seems unlikely, as it has never had Coalition Government support. The mooted tax would be primarily a tax on London and the South East, and many of those affected, especially at the introductory level of £2 million, may well be unable to pay the tax (particularly those who inherited their properties, are already mortgaged to the hilt, and/or have lived in the same house for many years).

Tax avoidance: Given the introduction of the General Anti-Avoidance Rule, which is extremely wide in its application, we struggle to see what else can be bolted on to HMRC and HM Government's ever increasing arsenal.

So that leaves us with very little in terms of predicting what he might come up with. My own wish list would include:

- a flat rate of tax (including both income and capital gains);

- the abolition of inheritance tax; and

- a four wheel drive car tax - a much better indicator of surplus wealth, better for the environment, easier to collect than a mansion tax and a positive benefit for those who have to contend with them in urban settings.

Sophie Mazzier is counsel at private client law firm Maurice Turnor Gardner LLP

This article first appeared at Spears magazine.

Photograph: Getty Images
GETTY
Show Hide image

Want your team to succeed? Try taking a step back

From the boardroom to the sports ground, managers need to step back for creativity to thrive.

Everyone is in favour of creativity, usually at the expense of creative people. The concept is in perpetual boom. Give us creative midfielders, creative leadership, creative solutions, creative energy. It’s with the “how” that the problems start – with extra meetings and meddling, over-analysis and prescriptiveness, whiteboards and flow charts. Professional systems rarely support the creativity that they allegedly seek. The creativity industry system is at odds with its stated goals.

The novel was an early casualty. Nothing makes me close a book more quickly and finally than the creeping realisation that the author is following a narrative map purchased on an American creative writing course. Life is too short for competent novels. The creativity industry pulls up the worst while dragging down the best.

Something similar happens inside professional sport, even though creativity is so obviously linked to performance and profit. Yet sport, especially English sport, has suffered from excessive managerialism. Perhaps guilt about English sport’s amateur legacy gave “professionalism” free rein, however pedestrian its form.

Here is sport’s problem with creativity: professional systems crave control, but creativity relies on escaping control. If an attacking player doesn’t know what he is going to do next, what chance does the defender have?

So when truly unexpected moments do happen, they take on a special lustre. This month, Olivier Giroud scored an unforgettable goal for Arsenal. Bearing down on the goal, he was already launched in mid-air when he realised that the cross was well behind him. With his body far ahead of his feet, Giroud clipped the ball to the top corner of the net with the outside of his left ankle – a so-called scorpion kick.

It was, in retrospect, the only option available to him. Football, for a moment, touched the arts – not only beautiful, but also complete. Nothing could have been added or taken away.

I once tried to compare the perfect cricket shot to Robert Frost’s celebrated description of writing a poem: “It begins in delight, it inclines to the impulse, it assumes direction with the first line laid down, it runs a course of lucky events, and ends in a clarification . . . Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.”

A great goal, however, fits that poetic model better than a cricket shot. Cricket shots come in many aesthetic grades, but they are all intended as shots. A goal, on the other hand, is more than just a very good pass, only better. There is an act of transformation within the event.

Frost’s acknowledgment of luck (distinct here from fluke) neatly defuses the accusation. Saying that a great goal involved luck does not to diminish it. Many unearned factors must interact with the skill.

“But did he mean it?” some people have wondered about Giroud’s goal. That isn’t the point, either. There wasn’t time. Giroud had solved the problem – to make contact with the ball, however possible, directing it towards the goal – before he was fully conscious of it. That doesn’t make it an accident. The expertise of a striker, like that of a writer, is opportunistic. He puts himself in positions where his skills can become productive. It is a honed ability to be instinctive. “If I’d thought about it, I never would have done it,” as Bob Dylan sings on “Up to Me”, an out-take from Blood on the Tracks.

Pseudo-intellectual? Quite the reverse. There is nothing pretentious about recognising and protecting creativity in sport. Over-literal decoding is the greater threat: instinctive performance needs to be saved from team meetings, not from intellectuals.

Having described a creative goal as unplanned – indeed, impossible to plan – what can coaches do to help? They can get out of the way, that’s a good start. It is no coincidence that the teams of Arsène Wenger, who is sometimes criticised for being insufficiently prescriptive, score more than their fair share of wonder goals.

The opposite arrangement is bleak. A friend of mine, a fly-half in professional rugby union, retired from the game when his coaches told him exactly which decisions to make in the first six phases of every attacking move. In effect, they banned him from playing creatively; they wanted rugby by numbers.

Not everything can be rehearsed. One useful book for coaches scarcely mentions sport – Inside Conducting, by the conductor Christopher Seaman. “I’ve never had much sympathy for conductors who ‘program’ an orchestra at rehearsal,” Seaman writes, “and then just run the program during the performance. There is much more
to it than that.”

Dan Vettori, the rising star among cricket’s Twenty20 coaches, is rare for having the bravery to echo Seaman’s theory. He believes that cricketers are more likely to play well when they feel slightly underprepared. It’s a risk and a fine balance – but worth it.

As I explored here last month in the context of Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, there is a danger of slotting players into false stereotypes and classifications. Giroud, for example, is slow. Slow yet athletic. That’s an unusual combination and partly explains why he is underrated.

We often think of pace as the central and definitive aspect of athleticism. But speed is just one component of total athletic ability (leave to one side footballing skill). Giroud has an outstanding vertical jump, power and great balance. Because he is big and slow, those athletic gifts are harder to spot.

Management systems overestimate both labels and top-down tactics. A braver policy, pragmatic as well as aesthetic, is to be less controlling: allow opportunity to collide with skill, directed by an open, expert and uncluttered mind. l

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 12 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's revenge