To promote the living wage, we need to reform the tax system

We must end the absurdity of companies being financially penalised for becoming living wage employers.

The living wage is one of the few policies that garners consensus across the political spectrum. Which politician would be crazy enough to speak against the idea of companies paying their low-paid employees enough to live on? Cue Ed Miliband and Boris Johnson giving speeches today to mark the start of Living Wage Week – with David Cameron not letting the fact that he’s in the Middle East prevent him from pitching into the debate.

Yet when it comes to what supporting a living wage actually means, the differences begin to show. The to-ing and fro-ing between the Labour Party and No 10 today highlight the slippery nature of an idea that is – since no politicians are advocating a statutory living wage – in essence about businesses doing the right thing.

Cameron and Johnson – if their contributions today are anything to go by – stand for business voluntarism in its purest sense. Politicians should stand alongside campaigning organisations like London Citizens in imploring businesses to pay a living wage, but there the buck stops. This ignores the fact that early living wage adopters have tended to be City corporations with a very low proportion of low-paid staff – for whom the costs of becoming a living wage employer are relatively low – and values-driven public sector organisations (of which Boris Johnson’s Greater London Authority is not yet one). The idea that a moral campaign led by civil society and government can by itself shift working conditions for millions in the low-paid, low-skill service sector remains a distant prospect.

Ed Miliband recognised this today by floating the idea that the tax system should reward those companies that become living wage employers. This is an idea that merits serious consideration. The idea that we would financially penalise companies for doing the right thing – for using green energy, for investing in R&D, or for supporting local communities, seems ridiculously self-defeating.

Yet when it comes to the living wage, that is exactly what we do. The IFS estimated back in 2010 that the annual cost to the taxpayer of employers paying below the living wage – in terms of tax credits, benefits and foregone tax – is approximately £6bn. Yet we financially penalise companies taking the decision to become living wage employers. An employer would face an extra bill of £570 a year in employer national insurance contributions (NICs) as a result of moving a full-time employee from the minimum to the living wage. This is despite the fact that the cost to the Treasury of employers paying below living wage is around £1,000 per employee. The tax system effectively charges employers to do something that not only is the right thing to do, but which saves the Treasury a substantial amount of money.

A good way to address this anomaly would be to take the disincentive to pay the living wage out of the system – by introducing a new, flat-rate employer national insurance contribution for employees earning below living wage. This would be set at the same level for a full-time employee actually on the living wage, paid pro-rata for part-time employees. The Treasury could recycle the extra revenue this generates through targeted NICs holidays for small businesses taking on new employees.

Of course, the tax bill is only one of a number of factors companies take into account when making decisions about how much to pay their employees. But if the energy invested by business lobby groups into making the case for lower national insurance is anything to go by, it is something that weighs heavily on the minds of employers, particularly in these straitened times.

Politicians are wary of legislating for the living wage, and they are right to be so: the effects of a big increase in the statutory minimum wage for unemployment are untested. But the Tory approach of just asking nicely won’t bring about the change we need. The Labour party is right that we need government to be much more creative in terms of how it encourages employers to pay the living wage. A reform of employer national insurance contributions for low-paid employees would be one pragmatic way of doing so.

Sonia Sodha is a former senior policy adviser to Ed Miliband. She writes in a personal capacity. She tweets @soniasodha.

Labour Party leader Ed Miliband addresses workers at Islington Town Hall. Photograph: Getty Images.

Sonia Sodha is head of policy and strategy at the Social Research Unit and a former senior policy adviser to Ed Miliband. She tweets @soniasodha.

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Why Philip Green's fall should bring down the honours system – but won't

Sir Shifty may fall in disgrace, but our ridiculous system will endure. No matter what's happening in the rest of politics.

Sir Philip Green’s Efficiency Review (2010) is his Das Kapital and it is still, happily, online. You can, if you wish, smirk at his recommendations to the government, which were solicited by David Cameron, I imagine, because when he stood next to Green he looked not like a 17th-century woodcut but like a tall, handsome semi-aristocrat.

“There is no motivation to save money or to treat cash ‘as your own’,” Green grumbles, before complaining, “There are inconsistent commercial skills across departments.” I am weeping with laughter at the whole report. But I’m not one of those BHS employees watching their pension ­vanish as the hideous cushions, throws and bedspreads pile up on the Green family yacht Lionheart. I instantly rename the yacht 14-Day Return Policy No More.

The days when Green could write efficiency reviews for people to ignore are gone. It is said that he could lose his knighthood, because that would be exciting and pointless. If so, I hope the ceremony features the formal rending of a garment from the BHS sale bin – perhaps a torn sock will be flung at his head? The Queen will not be happy, because de-knighting makes the ancient system of patronage look as ridiculous as it really is. Do intercessors between man and God make mistakes? Would they raise a man the Daily Mail now calls “Sir Shifty”? (I checked whether there was a Sir Shifty among the knights of the Round Table who flogged the Holy Grail to a passing tinker. There was not.)

Lord Melbourne advised Queen Victoria not to attempt to make her husband, Albert, a king, for if the people knew that they could make kings, they might unmake them. Green will discover this in his tiny way. But the elites should not hide their baubles. One fallen knight will not destroy the system (and I cannot think that Green will take £571m from his Lionheart cushion budget to save his knighthood by replenishing the BHS pension fund, because a knighthood is, in essence, just a tiny Bentley Continental that you wear over your nipple). One fallen knight should destroy the system but it won’t, because human conceit and docility are without end. Green will be shunned. Nothing will change.

One might have hoped that the Brexit vote would have alerted Cameron to the abyss between the electorate and the elected. (Even Alastair Campbell, chomping against Brexit, seemed to forget that he was as complicit in the alienation of voters as anyone else: government by sofa, teeth and war.) The response was glib, even for Cameron, a man so glib that I sometimes think he is a reflection in a pond. Brexit hit him like someone caught in a mild shower without an umbrella. He hummed at the lesson that history dealt him; he hummed as he left his page. It was the hum of the alpha Etonian caught out in a mistake, yes, but it was still a bloody hum.

His next act was to increase pay-offs to favoured courtiers against civil service advice and at public expense; then, it was reported, he nominated his spin doctor Craig Oliver and his former spin doctor Gabby Bertin for peerages, because the upper house needs more PRs. He has learned nothing. I wish him a relaxed retirement in which he will, apparently, write his four-page memoir, David Cameron: My Struggle (sub-subtitle: Eton Mess?). I hope he does not attempt to deny “the prosciutto affair”, because there is no need. It was not true. It was too pure a metaphor.

So the honours system, an essential part of our alienating politics, alongside dodgy donors, duck houses and George Galloway, endures in its worst form as conventional politics fails. It is a donkey sanctuary for political friends and Bruce Forsyth. I am not suggesting that everyone who has been honoured is dreadful – some lollipop ladies deserve to be patronised with an OBE (when there is no E any more), I am sure, and the lords, some of whom are excellent, are the functional opposition now – but the system can no longer be defended by the mirth potential of watching politicians ponder what light-entertainment celebrities might swing a marginal before being posthumously accused of rape. We must find something better before the house burns down. Perhaps a robust parliamentary democracy?

The problem is best expressed by the existence of a specialist consultancy called Awards Intelligence, which engages in “VIP brand-building” by soliciting awards. It sells “awards plans” from £795, which I could well imagine Philip Green perusing as he bobs about aboard Lionheart, were it not too late. The Awards Intelligence website tells us so much, though obliviously, about the narcissism of modern politics that I am tempted to reproduce it in full. But I will merely report that it asks:

"Did you know that you can join the House of Lords on a part-time basis as an Independent Crossbench Peer or a political peer affiliated to one of the main politial parties – even if you have ongoing work, family or community commitments!"

The message from Awards Intelligence, which boasts of a 50 per cent success rate, is clear: the legislature is part-time, it exists to “instil trust, add credibility and provide a platform for you to have your say” – and it can’t always spell “political”.

Sir Shifty and Awards Intelligence do not constitute the worst crisis in the history of honours, dreadful though they are. During the First World War the royal German cousins were stripped of their garters, so that British soldiers would not have to kill men of higher rank. But it is time for the Queen to stop pinning toys on nipples. They are part of a political system sweeping us, swiftly, towards the night.

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue