Spot the difference: pensions vs student loans

It's only OK to retroactively change a deal when it affects young people.

The Guardian's Aditya Chakrabortty and the False Economy network have a massive scoop this morning. A secret government report from 2011 proposes retroactively changing student loan agreements to force pre-2012 graduates to pay more for their education:

At the moment, the cap on student debt taken out before 2012 keeps repayment rates at 1.5%. Lifting it would mean a rate of 3.6%, in line with RPI in March 2012. One indicative calculation suggests that an employee on £25,000 a year, with £25,000 of undergraduate loans taken out before 2012, could work until retirement without ever paying off their debt if the interest rate cap were removed.

Somewhat astonishingly, the report also contains a "script" for ministers to push the policy:

"We all live in difficult times," they suggest ministers argue. "You have a deal which is so much better than your younger siblings (they will incur up to £9,000 tuition fees and up to RPI+3% interest rates)".

Needless to say, the report does not address the fact that the ministers' generation had a deal which is considerably better that either younger or older siblings.

There's an element of sleight of hand at play here. Since the actual fees are not retroactively raised, the government would be able to argue that it's not really changing all that much, just the terms of repayment. But student loans are already basically taxes in how they're repaid. What this will do in that assessment is extend the length of time which those taxes are paid – in some cases, right up until the 25-year cut-off, at which point the outstanding debt is wiped away.

The reason why the change is so remarkably unfair is because of its retroactive nature. A cohort of students decided to go to university based on the deal that they would repay loans at the lower of 1 per cent above the Bank of England base rate or RPI. If that weren't the deal at the time, it's a fair bet a number of people might not have decided to get themselves into around £20,000 of debt.

There's a certain amount of fun to be had comparing the proposals to the reaction to Labour's markedly less radical suggestion that pensions count as welfare spending, and might need to be capped if welfare spending as a whole grows too large.

That is not a particularly bold statement. As Ian Mulheirn of the Social Market Foundation has showed, given the rate at which pension liabilities are growing, just to keep total expenditure flat would require massive cuts to every other spending program. Nonetheless, it's led to comments like this, from the National Pensioners Convention:

Ed Balls has made a fundamental error of judgement in suggesting that state pensions are just another benefit in the general scheme of welfare spending.

Everyone knows that you only receive a state pension if you have paid national insurance for at least 30 years. This contributory principle means that it’s not a benefit, but an entitlement.

Interestingly, no-one brings up the same point when contributory JSA is cut, a benefit which also relies on NI contributions. But the larger point is that the contributory principle says nothing about the level of benefits.

It may well be a terrible idea to cut pensions, for exactly the same reason that it's a terrible idea to retroactively increase student loan payments: people make spending plans spanning decades based on these figures, and a cut can wreck those plans at a time when there's no chance to rescue them.

(Of course, that objection doesn't quite hold water in the case of pensions, which have, thanks to the Government's "triple lock", increased in present value significantly. Removing the triple lock could not irreparably damage anyone's long term plans)

But young people are easier to screw over than old people. And divide and rule – pitting one cohort of young people against another – makes it even easier still.

Here's a better idea for funding universities: don't scrap a tax which brings in billions of pounds from people who can overwhelmingly afford it, and then complain that the one generation which actually paid for their university education should pay more.

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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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

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 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times