The coalition's cap on benefit increases will mean a surge in child poverty

Raising benefits by less than the rate of inflation is a poverty-producing policy.

Internal Treasury documents do not make for a thrilling bedtime read but a flick last night through the government’s Impact Assessment (IA) toolkit proved quite instructive. It tells us, for example, that an IA should be prepared when a proposal "involves some kind of redistribution affecting the public, private or third sector", and that an IA "must be published when a Government Bill… is introduced into either House of Parliament".

Yet on the day the Welfare Benefits Uprating Bill 2012 receives its second reading in Parliament, we still have not seen a formal assessment of the government’s decision to cut an estimated 4 per cent from the real value of key benefits over the next three years.  So, in the absence of any official statement as to how this policy will affect child poverty, we decided to work it out for ourselves.

Our starting point is the study produced by the Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS) in October 2011 projecting child poverty rates for the UK over the next five to ten years. The picture, according to this report, looked bleak: an estimated 400,000 more children would be living in relative poverty by the end of the current parliament, while the number living in absolute poverty looked set to increase by 500,000 over the same period.  

Critically, the IFS singled out the decision to index most working-age benefits to the consumer price index (CPI) as opposed to the more generous retail price index (RPI) from 2011 onwards as the most significant policy driving child poverty upwards in the next five to ten years. But these projections do not now tell the full story. Since they were produced, the government has made other adjustments to the way it indexes benefits and tax credits, and now plans to add into this already potent brew the decision to uprate most in- and out-of work benefits, and going forward key elements of Universal Credit (UC), at a sub-inflation 1 per cent for three years.

As our new report published yesterday shows, the simple truth is that a sub-inflation uprating will be a poverty-producing policy. Delinking benefits from prices will result in a fall in the real standard of living for anyone who is reliant on the state for all or part of their income over the next three years. As a consequence, in the absence of any compensatory changes, the number of children living in absolute poverty will rise, while those children in families reliant on out-of-work benefits who already live below this threshold will see their poverty deepen further.

And alongside worsening absolute poverty rates, the relative fortunes of low income families can only deteriorate too. The government is presenting the 1 per cent uprating as ‘fair’ in light of the average earnings levels observed during the recession, as well as future public sector pay agreements. But what is conveniently obscured in this debate is that for many years prior to 2008, benefits rose at a significantly lower level than wages. In fact, the above-average earnings upratings of the last five years have had limited effect on the relative value of benefits eroded over a long period of time, showing how difficult it is to correct the damage done by year after year of under-indexation.

Nor is it clear where the equity is in pegging benefits to public sector pay rises going forward. With the Office for Budget Responsibility anticipating average earnings growth for the whole economy of between 2.2 per cent and 3.9 per cent over the next three years, the Uprating Bill will open up a gap between the poorest and the rest of the population. As a result, the minority will become further disconnected from the majority, and under these conditions, relative child poverty can but rise.

Looking at the historical picture should make us all pause for thought. Decoupling benefit levels from wages is widely recognised as the most significant policy that drove the dramatic increases in child poverty through the 1980s and 1990s, and the decision now to delink benefits from prices looks set to propel child poverty back up to levels we haven’t observed since the Thatcher years.

Given this, the Uprating Bill risks history repeating itself, with one significant difference: this time round we are likely to witness significant rises in child poverty against the backdrop of the Child Poverty Act (CPA) 2010, a law which requires the government take action to improve both the absolute and the comparative fortunes of children growing up in the UK today.

Yet three years of benefit uprating that is linked to neither prices nor average earnings will deliberately lock in both real and relative losses for low-income families, at the same time as locking them out of the mainstream.

Small wonder, then, that the required impact assessment has yet to materialise, but when it does, it will be interesting to see how the government squares the child poverty circle.

A young girl spends the half term school holiday playing in an an alleyway in the Gorton area of Manchester. Photograph: Getty Images.

Alison Garnham is chief executive of the Child Poverty Action Group

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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