Childcare tax breaks risk helping the rich the most

At present, there are almost no voucher recipients among the poorest 40 per cent of households.

In the week that parents earning over £50,000 saw their child benefit cut, the speculation is that the government intends to introduce tax relief for childcare, possibly making those who were worse off from the child benefit change, better off once again. In the absence of an announcement from ministers, we will not know what the government actually intends to do until next week’s announcement. But the talk is of the introduction of basic rate tax relief for childcare worth £2,000 a year per child. How the scheme will work is anyone's guess but, even without the details, we can already speculate that this is a policy that is likely to help the better off more than the ‘strivers’ the government says it supports.

The government already spends £700m a year on tax relief for childcare through employer supported childcare vouchers which look likely to be scrapped following the introduction of tax relief. It’s a voluntary scheme that employers can offer which gives their employees basic rate tax relief on £55 a week of childcare costs (less if they are a higher rate taxpayer). Resolution Foundation analysis shows that 50 per cent of people who used vouchers in 2010-11 were in the top 20 per cent of households (see graph). Almost no voucher recipients were found among the poorest 40 per cent of households.

Position of childcare voucher recipient households in the income distribution, 2010-11

At the moment, whether or not you can benefit from vouchers depends on whether your employer offers them. In this respect, the government’s proposal could be an improvement if it is available to all. But assuming it works in a similar way to the existing vouchers, it is likely to be of little benefit to low paid working families who struggle most with the costs of childcare. Under the current scheme, those who do not earn enough to pay tax cannot benefit at all and those who qualify for tax credits are only marginally better off if they also take up vouchers. The argument may be that tax credits are there for those on low income and tax relief is there to help the rest. But let’s be clear that the government may be about to make a major investment in childcare that barely benefits low income working families, while offering help to the richest.

Other choices would have been possible. The Resolution Foundation’s Commission on Living Standards recommended an extension of the universal entitlement to childcare for three and four year olds from 15 hours a week for 38 weeks a year to 25 hours a week for 47 weeks a year. This would make it easier for more mums to work part-time than the current childcare entitlement which is what most say they would like to do. The extension would have benefited all families with young children, including the better off, but importantly would have also helped the least well off.

Among the details of the government’s proposals that will be made clear next week is how the scheme will be administered. There seem to be three choices. The government could extend the current employer scheme but make it compulsory for employers to take part. This seems unlikely given prior commitments to cut red tape. Tax relief could be claimed by individuals through the self assessment process but this also seems unlikely given criticisms about a similar approach introduced to deal with the messy child benefit change. The third option is to force providers to administer it and claim tax relief on behalf of parents. If this is the preferred option, the government will need to ensure that the extra money is passed onto parents in lower fees. Otherwise, this could end up being a subsidy to struggling providers rather than a benefit to squeezed parents.

David Cameron during a visit to a London Early Years Foundation nursery in London. Photograph: Getty Images.

Vidhya Alakeson is deputy chief executive of the Resolution Foundation

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

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