Labour should beat George Osborne at his own game with a living wage employment allowance

Cutting the "jobs tax" was the best move the Chancellor made, but Labour should go further, writes Nick Pecorelli.

In George Osborne’s budget politics triumphed over economics and bravado over honesty. But in amidst the cauldron of denial, downgrades and general gloom there was one interesting policy proposal that small businesses should celebrate and progressives should build on.

George Osborne announced a new employer’s national insurance employment allowance of £2000 for all businesses; a cut in the “jobs tax”. This is a much better approach to supporting small businesses than cuts in corporation tax because so many small businesses are too hand to mouth to make a profit. Moreover, a flat rate allowance helps the smallest businesses most.

Using national insurance to promote employment goals is not new. But what is new is the decoupling of total employers' national insurance payments from individual pay rates, and this opens the door to a very different way of using national insurance to support progressive values.

One of the last Labour government’s defining policies was the implementation of the national minimum wage. Over one and a half million low paid workers received a pay rise and instantly there was a wage floor set in statute below which no one could be legally paid. 

The national minimum wage has been a success not just because Labour made the moral case but because it made an economic one. Higher pay floats workers off benefits, saves taxpayers money and puts cash into the hands of those who are most likely to spend it rather than save it.

But Labour also bound in business by setting up a Low Pay Commission, on which both sides of industry and experts are represented. The Low Pay Commission’s job has been to agree the minimum wage annually at a rate which is affordable and does not damage job creation. 

Today, the minimum wage is set at £6.19 an hour for those aged 21 and over. That’s better than a world where employers could legally pay £2 an hour but certainly not a decent wage.

Hence, the campaign for a living wage of £7.45 an hour (or £8.55 in London), launched by London Citizens over a decade ago. The Living Wage campaign is energised and has had many successes, but these are mainly amongst larger corporations and the public sector.  Larger corporations can typically afford to see paying a living wage as part of their corporate social responsibility agenda. Councils can make the political choice to pay a living wage (and for that matter stipulate that their contractors must also pay it). But for many small businesses, predominantly those in certain sectors, it’s simply tough to do it and make the sums add up, particularly when your competitors aren’t paying it.

Many of these businesses only employ a few people – restaurants, hairdressers, small independent retailers, niche textile operations and so on. So a simple way for Labour to adapt George Osborne’s employment allowance into a policy that not only promotes employment but employment on a decent wage, is to argue that it should become a Living Wage Employment Allowance and only be available to businesses who pay a living wage (a lower youth rate would be needed to encourage employers to take on inexperienced workers). 

This will help fill the policy void between the compulsion of the national minimum wage and the exaltation of the campaign for a living wage.

By giving most help to the smallest businesses it will help create a new wage norm. Once a first, second and third employee are paid a living wage it becomes more challenging for an employer to offer a lower wage to a subsequent employee. Slightly larger businesses will also be more likely to pay a living wage even if the financial inducement of the Living Wage Employment Allowance does not fully cover the cost, partly because their employees would now be able to earn a higher wage elsewhere and partly simply because paying a living wage should become the new norm.

Over time when entrepreneurs are thinking of setting up new ventures the Living Wage Employment Allowance will help focus minds on sectors and business propositions where a living wage is affordable.

As wages for low paid workers increase more people will be floated off benefits and the taxpayer will gain. Some local areas where poverty is rife will get a spending boost, providing not only a direct benefit to economically depressed areas but a further boost to government coffers. A future Labour government could commit to use these proceeds to increase the Living Wage Employment Allowance and create a virtuous circle of more jobs, better wages, and higher tax revenues. A target of £10,000 might be achievable in the next parliament.

Compliance should also be relatively easy to monitor because wage information is automatically gathered through the national insurance system.

Britain cannot afford a low pay economy but neither can it expect small businesses struggling to make ends meet to pay decent wages without some support. A chancellor who has pursued some of the most regressive policies in recent history has unwittingly opened the door to progress. Labour should seize the opportunity George Osborne has presented with both hands and argue for a new approach that will make Britain’s economy both stronger and fairer.

Photograph: Getty Images

Nick Pecorelli is Associate Director of The Campaign Company

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In praise of the late developer

The success of late developers proves that our obsession with early achievement is wrong.

A fortnight ago, I fell into conversation with the head teacher of a local school. “You’ve got to create room for late developers,” he said. “The obsession with early attainment doesn’t suit most children.”

We were soon finishing each other’s sentences – talking about long-term confidence rather than short-term hothousing, how children don’t develop in a linear way, and the value of having transferable skills rather than a single focus from a young age.

What a shame, I reflected, that his message doesn’t reach a wider audience. We hear so much about prodigies and precociousness – Serena Williams and her pushy father, Tiger Woods and “tiger mothers” – and so little of the counter-argument: the high achievers who emerge at a slower pace in more balanced circumstances.

Our conversation ended when we both departed to watch England play Scotland in the Six Nations tournament. Only then did I learn that the head teacher’s son Huw Jones was playing in the centre for Scotland. He scored two tries, just as he did last autumn in his home debut against Australia.

Jones’s career is a tacit endorsement of his father’s philosophy. In his penultimate year at school, Huw was still playing mostly in the second XV. Five years on, he is a burgeoning talent on the world stage. The two facts are connected. Jones didn’t just overtake others; he also retained the naturalness that is often lost “in the system”.

As boys, he and his brother made up their own version of rugby practice: could the ­attacker sidestep and run past the defender without setting foot outside the five-metre line? They were just having fun, uncoached and unsupervised. But their one-on-one game was teaching the most valuable skill in rugby: the ability to beat defenders in confined spaces.

Jones had access to superb opportunities throughout – at home, at Canterbury rugby club and then at Millfield, the independent school in Somerset well known for producing sportsmen. But at Millfield, he was far from being a superstar. He seldom played “A-team” rugby. The message from home: just keep enjoying it and getting better and eventually your time will come.

There was a useful precedent. Matt Perry, who won 36 caps for England between 1997 and 2001, had been a “B-team” player at school. What matters is where you end up, not who leads the race at the age of 16. Jones also developed transferable skills by continuing to play other sports. “Don’t specialise too early,” was the mantra of Richard Ellison, the former England cricketer who taught at Millfield for many years.

When Jones was 18 and finally blossoming in the school’s first XV, rugby agents started to take an interest, promising to place him in the “academy” of a professional team. “But I’d seen so many kids take that route and seen how bored they got,” his father, Bill, reflects. So Bill advised his son to go abroad, to gain experience of new cultures and to keep playing rugby for fun instead of getting on the tracksuited professional treadmill.

So Jones took a teaching job in Cape Town, where he played men’s club rugby. Instead of entering the professional system, as one of a bland cohort of similar-aged “prospects”, he served his apprenticeship among players drawn from different backgrounds and ages. Sport was shown to be a matter of friendship and community, not just a career path.

The University of Cape Town spotted and recruited Jones, who helped it win the South African university competition. Only then, in 2014, did British professional rugby teams start to take a serious interest. Jones, however, was enjoying South Africa and stayed put, signing a contract with the Stormers in the Super Rugby tournament – the world’s leading club competition.

So, in the space of 18 months, Jones had gone from being a gap-year Brit with no formal ties to professional rugby to playing against the world’s best players each week. He had arrived on the big stage, following a trajectory that suited him.

The level of competition had escalated rapidly but the tries kept coming. Scotland, by now closely monitoring a player qualified by birth, gave him his spectacular home debut against Australia last autumn – remarkable but not surprising. Finding his feet ­instantly on each new stage is the pattern of his career.

Those two qualities – first, instinctive ­try-scoring; second, a lack of vertigo – are connected. Amid all the jargon of professional sport, perhaps the most important qualities – freshness, ingenuity and the gift of surprise – are undervalued. Yet all of these rely on skills honed over many years – honed, but not dulled.

Shoehorning all young players into rigid, quasi-professional systems long before they are ready comes with risks. First, we seldom hear from the child prodigies who faded away (often damaged psychologically). Many players who are pushed too hard miss their natural learning arc; the narrative of their ambition, or the ambition imposed on them by parents, is often out of step with their physical and psychological growth. Second, systems have a habit of overestimating their contribution: they become blind to outsiders.

In a quiet way, Jones is a case study in evolved education and not just sport: a talented performer who was given time and space to find his voice. The more we learn about talent, as David Epstein demonstrated in The Sports Gene, the clearer it becomes that focusing on champion 11-year-olds decreases the odds of producing champion adults. Modern science has reinforced less frantic and neurotic educational values; variety and fun have their virtues.

Over the long term, put your faith not in battery farming but instead, in Bill Jones’s phrase, in “free-range children”.

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 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution