How much would Miliband's living wage plans actually change?

"Naming and shaming" employers who don't pay the living wage is likely to have disappointing results.

Labour says it would "name and shame" employers that don’t pay all their workers a living wage – the income a person needs to be able to afford a basic standard of living. But how shaming would inclusion on Miliband's list of offenders be? Employers on it wouldn’t exactly stand out: KPMG calculates that one in five UK workers are not paid a living wage, which stands at £7.45, or £8.55 in London.

That makes for safety in numbers, and with low wages heavily concentrated in certain sectors – 70 per cent of cleaners, waiters, and kitchen staff are paid less than the recommended rate – the competitors of affected companies would be even less likely to pay the wage, keeping the pressure to change low.

Miliband’s pledge recalls the strategy of anti-tax-avoidance protest group UK Uncut, which drew attention to high profile companies that avoided large sums of tax, in the hope of shaming them into paying more. The campaign succeeded in raising the issue up the political agenda – but corporate tax avoidance is still rife, and there have so far been no major public reversals by their targets: at the height of the protests last year, companies like Vodafone reported record profits, whilst spokespeople simply repeat that they are following the law.

One aim of UK Uncut was to urge politicians to act on the issue and change the law, but as a politician himself, Miliband’s approach to low pay seems somewhat confused. Low paid workers may well also ask why Labour needs to be in government to do what a small campaign group did with a Twitter account and a lot of time on their hands.

UK Uncut also had the advantage of focusing its fire on specific, high profile offenders. But if a Labour government were to target specific companies to get high-profile results, they'd be likely to fall foul of EU state aid regulations: governments are strictly forbidden from picking on certain companies, or offering an "advantage in any form whatsoever conferred on a selective basis to undertakings by national public authorities".

The "name and shame" approach could even be embarrassing for Labour, which doesn’t have a spotless record on the living wage itself. Relying on negative media coverage and civil society to do the job could end up with the party turning its fire on itself. The party’s longest serving living Prime Minister only recently signed up to paying his staff the bare minimum wage, and Tony Blair, among others, would be one of those shamed for not paying the living rate if the proposals were comprehensively implemented.

If Labour is serious about workers earning a living wage then it will probably find the results of its flirtation with business voluntarism disappointing. The actions of companies are ultimately guided by the profit motive and shareholder value, and recent history suggests that activism can rarely, by itself, create corporate social responsibility out of thin air.

Ed Miliband is campaigning for companies to pay the living wage, currently £7.45 an hour. Photograph: Getty Images.

Jon Stone is a political journalist. He tweets as @joncstone.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

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 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times