Why aren't we talking about the "disability tax"?

The Chancellor presented some pretty unconvincing reasoning in the Autumn Statement.

As Jonathan Portes writes, the Chancellor's explanation for using the Autumn statement to cut spending in real-terms (which includes the "mummy tax", as well what we might call the "poverty tax", "disability tax", "unemployment tax" and "civil servant tax") doesn't stand up.

The Chancellor said:

With pay restraint in businesses and government, average earnings have risen by around 10% since 2007. Out of work benefits have gone up by around 20%. That’s not fair to working people who pay the taxes that fund them.

Portes responds:

The numbers are correct: but they are highly selective… The value of out of work benefits relative to average earnings (and more broadly the incomes of those in work) has fallen steadily over the past three decades, until the recent slight uptick resulting from the recession…

Unless we are stuck in permanent depression, even a modest recovery will in time lead to earnings rising significantly faster than prices, and the relative value of out of work benefits will decline again. No policy action is required to ensure this (although economic recovery would help!).

The Chancellor was also incredibly sneaky in conflating out-of-work benefits with the other, in-work benefits, which he is also cutting, including local housing allowances – a key part of housing benefit – and "elements" of the child tax credit and the working tax credits.

The child tax credit cut is the one which has been dubbed the "mummy tax" – but focusing on that change to the exclusion of others does damage to the point. Even in the Mail's mummy tax story, for instance, the case-study they present is of a woman who stands to lose far more from the housing benefit cuts than the child tax credit ones. And the idea, implicit in the selective complaints, that it is worse to hurt "mummies" than it is to hurt, say, the disabled is distasteful.

While Osborne may have been sloppy in conflating in- and out-of-work benefits, he was smarter than many commentators in not implying that the change was because such benefits were in some way "unsustainable" – a charge levied by, among others, the Sunday Times' David Smith.

Given 53 per cent of welfare spending goes on pensioners (table 3), the real unsustainable change was made in the last budget. In the spring, Osborne announced a "triple lock" for pensions, guaranteeing that they would be uprated by the higher of CPI, average wages or 2.5 per cent. And sure enough, the Autumn Statement saw the state pension uprated by more than either CPI or average wages.

The Chancellor isn't chasing sustainability. He's just attacking the poor.

Osborne. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Photo: Getty
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Theresa May is paying the price for mismanaging Boris Johnson

The Foreign Secretary's bruised ego may end up destroying Theresa May. 

And to think that Theresa May scheduled her big speech for this Friday to make sure that Conservative party conference wouldn’t be dominated by the matter of Brexit. Now, thanks to Boris Johnson, it won’t just be her conference, but Labour’s, which is overshadowed by Brexit in general and Tory in-fighting in particular. (One imagines that the Labour leadership will find a way to cope somehow.)

May is paying the price for mismanaging Johnson during her period of political hegemony after she became leader. After he was betrayed by Michael Gove and lacking any particular faction in the parliamentary party, she brought him back from the brink of political death by making him Foreign Secretary, but also used her strength and his weakness to shrink his empire.

The Foreign Office had its responsibility for negotiating Brexit hived off to the newly-created Department for Exiting the European Union (Dexeu) and for navigating post-Brexit trade deals to the Department of International Trade. Johnson was given control of one of the great offices of state, but with no responsibility at all for the greatest foreign policy challenge since the Second World War.

Adding to his discomfort, the new Foreign Secretary was regularly the subject of jokes from the Prime Minister and cabinet colleagues. May likened him to a dog that had to be put down. Philip Hammond quipped about him during his joke-fuelled 2017 Budget. All of which gave Johnson’s allies the impression that Johnson-hunting was a licensed sport as far as Downing Street was concerned. He was then shut out of the election campaign and has continued to be a marginalised figure even as the disappointing election result forced May to involve the wider cabinet in policymaking.

His sense of exclusion from the discussions around May’s Florence speech only added to his sense of isolation. May forgot that if you aren’t going to kill, don’t wound: now, thanks to her lost majority, she can’t afford to put any of the Brexiteers out in the cold, and Johnson is once again where he wants to be: centre-stage. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to domestic and global politics.