Child benefit withdrawal will make it better to work less for families with over seven children

And come 2076, that will be the case for every family in the nation.

The child tax credit withdrawal, taking effect on Monday, will lead to marginal tax rates of over 100 per cent on families with more than eight children earning between £50,000 and £60,000.

The IFS explains how the marginal rates are calculated:

Affected taxpayers will pay back one per cent of their family’s Child Benefit for every £100 by which taxable income exceeds £50,000. One per cent of Child Benefit is £10.56 per year for a 1-child family, and an additional £6.97 per child for larger families. Hence the marginal tax rate between £50,000 and £60,000 is increased by about 11 percentage points for the first child and by an additional 7 percentage points for each subsequent one. So, for example, while about 320,000 people will find that their marginal income tax rate increases to more than 50%, about 40,000 of them - those with three or more children - will find that it jumps to at least 65%.

They offer a chart with the rate calculated up to four children:

By seven children, the marginal rate rises to 99.35 per cent, and by eight, it breaks 100 per cent (106.32 per cent, to be exact). This means that any individual with a family of eight kids earning between £50,000 and £60,000 would be better off if they reduced their salary back down to £50,000. In fact, for that individual, they would have to earn £61,105 before their post-tax income was the same as it was at £50,000.

It's unclear whether any families actually exist matching that criterion - rather wonderfully, my back-of-the-envelope maths (which assumes that the exponential decrease in the number of families of each size continues: e.g., there are 1/8th the number of families with three or more kids as there are with two or more, so I'm assuming that there are correspondingly 1/8th the number of families with four or more as there are with three or more, and so on) suggests that there may be exactly one – but even if there are none at the moment, there's no reason why there won't be one in the future. Families with eight children do, after all, exist.

In fact, as time goes on, this problem will get worse. The IFS points out that child benefit is uprated with inflation, while tax bands aren't. Currently, each extra child after the first increases your "marginal tax rate" by around seven per cent, but suppose child benefit is uprated by two per cent a year. In that case, the marginal tax would exceed one hundred per cent for families with seven children next year; for six children in the year 2020; for five children in the year 2028; and, eventually, for families with just one child – i.e., every family – in the year 2076.

Hopefully the law will be changed before then, of course. But as a rule of thumb, laws which become ridiculously damaging unless you actively intervene ought not be signed in the first place. Oops.

Children. 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.

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The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism