Will Cameron and Osborne remain silent over Goldman Sachs's tax ploy?

Having denounced "aggressive tax avoidance", Osborne is under pressure to respond to the bank's plan to avoid the 50p rate tax by delaying bonus payments.

Update: It appears that the adverse publicity has prompted a rethink at Goldman. The bank has dropped plans to delay bonus payments and, consequently, will pay the 50p rate. Before the announcement, the Treasury said simply: "We do not comment on the tax affairs of individual companies, but we are clear that everyone must pay the tax they owe."

As Alex reported yesterday, mega-bank Goldman Sachs is considering deferring bonus payments for its UK employees until April in order to benefit from the reduction of the 50p tax rate to 45p. The proposed tax dodge has already drawn criticism from Labour, with shadow Treasury minister Chris Leslie declaring that "banks need to think carefully about their own reputations if they seek to avoid tax in this way" and the redoubtable Margaret Hodge accusing Goldmans of not giving "a toss about collective responsibility".

This morning, Bank of England governor Mervyn King added his voice to the protests. During his appearance before the Treasury select committee, he commented:

I find it a bit depressing that people who earn so much find it would be even more exciting to adjust their payouts to benefit from the tax rate, knowing that this must have an impact of the rest of society, which is suffering most from the consequences of the financial crisis. I think it would be a rather clumsy and lacking in care and attention to how other people might react. And in the long run, financial institutions do depend on goodwill from society.

King's intervention prompts the question of whether David Cameron and George Osborne will have anything to say about the matter. In last year's Budget, Osborne memorably denounced "aggressive tax avoidance" as "morally repugnant". And if Cameron is prepared to take the time to attack Jimmy Carr for tax avoidance, one might expect him to comment when one of the world's largest investment banks deploys similar chicanery. The numbers involved are not insignificant. Goldman paid out £8bn in bonuses last year and a similar stunt by the bank and others in 2010 (when they brought forward income in order to avoid the rise from 40p to 50p) cost the Treasury £16bn.

Labour is keen to take every opportunity to remind the public that the government is choosing to cut taxes for the top 1.5 per cent of earners this April. With the additional chance to protest at "aggressive tax avoidance", don't be surprised if Ed Miliband raises this issue at PMQs tomorrow.

Lloyd Blankfein, Chairman and CEO of Goldman Sachs. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear