It's time to be honest about who gains from tax cuts

Raising the personal allowance won’t give anything to the lowest-earning five million workers.

The news that George Osborne is likely to match the flagship Liberal Democrat commitment to raise the personal tax allowance to £12.5k in the next parliament is further proof of what became apparent during the conference season: the government’s economic message is jerking awkwardly between painting a bleak account of the years of austerity still to come and sunny promises of major tax cuts just around the corner.

It also clarifies that raising the personal tax allowance (PTA) will remain the tax cut of choice for both sides of the coalition. Which means that it is worth going back over some of the claims made in support of it – not least as some of them are a bit wide of the mark. This is not to say there is no case to be made for having a higher PTA: a tax-free stretch of income has always been an important part of our tax system and raising it clearly has beneficial effects (for instance, it simplifies, improves work incentives for some, and encourages dual-earning). It’s just that sometimes the key arguments made in support of it are often unbalanced or misleading, or both.

It is regularly, for instance, billed as a tax cut targeted at the lowest earners. And, to state the obvious, someone on say £12k – who would benefit - is clearly on a low wage. Yet it’s important to realise that the proposed hike in the PTA from £10k to £12.5k won’t give anything to the lowest-earning 5 million workers in the UK, all of whom will earn less than the £10k threshold come 2015.

More specifically, it’s said that the specific rationale for a further hike in the PTA is to help those on the minimum wage which has fallen sharply in real terms over recent years. Trouble is, more than 60% of those paid the minimum wage – predominantly women - work part-time. Again, they don’t gain. So rooting the whole argument for going to £12.5k in terms of those toiling on the minimum wage is a bit of a stretch.

Another, related, claim is that the point of a larger personal allowance is that it ‘lifts people out of tax’. And self-evidently this is right – in relation to income tax (several million people will have been lifted out of income tax by 2015 due to coalition policy choices). But that’s only part of the story. The coalition has not raised the threshold for National Insurance in the same way (it’s been uprated with inflation for the last 3 three years). It seems to be acceptable that someone on £8k should pay NICs but unacceptable that someone on £12k pays income tax. It’s hard to think of a sensible rationale for this. If tax cuts are the order of the day then raising the NICs threshold would be a far better priority.

At other moments it is argued that the whole point of the tax cut is to help low-income households or families. Again, this is shaky ground. The bulk of the gains from increasing the PTA flow to the top half of the household income distribution. This observation sometimes raises eyebrows but there is no great mystery about it – it simply reflects the fact that there are large numbers in the bottom half of the distribution who don’t work, and there are large numbers who do work but pay no or little income tax. Meanwhile, in the top half of the income distribution there is a much greater preponderance of dual-earning households who gain twice-over from tax cuts.

Indeed, to understand how households, particularly families with children, will benefit from a higher PTA in the next Parliament we need to consider how it will interact with Universal Credit (due to start in 2017). At the moment a tax cut would benefit someone by the same amount regardless of whether or not they are eligible for tax credits. It doesn’t affect their claim. Under Universal Credit this changes. The gains from the tax cut will in large part be offset by a reduction in entitlement to Universal Credit. And this is no small point: millions of families with dependent age children will be on UC. Tax cuts are going to lose much of their potency for a large swath of low to middle income families, it’s just no one has told them. It would be possible to amend Universal Credit to deal with this problem but so far no party has said they will – it costs money.

So raising the tax allowance is not a policy for the very lowest earners. Nor is it a policy for a far smaller number of very highest earners (people on more than roughly £120k, about 0.5 million, get any gains taxed away). But it is a tax cut for the overwhelming majority in between. Some of these will be on low (but not the very lowest) earnings, some in the middle and some near the top: it spreads the gains around which, depending on your point of view, could be a good thing or a bad thing. To put it another way, only a small part of the cost involved in the proposed increase in the PTA – around 10% - comes from lifting those on between £10k and £12.5k out of income tax: it’s expensive mostly because it also gives a tax cut to everyone earning from £12.5k to roughly £120k.

It’s also important to emphasise that how big the gains will really be, and how much it costs the exchequer, will depend crucially on the detail. A policy to raise the personal tax allowance ‘during the next Parliament’ – meaning by 2020 - to the level of the salary of a full-time minimum wage worker in 2015 (c. £12.5k), is a very different thing to committing to move straight to a £12.5k allowance in 2015. And it’s also very different to committing to raise the allowance by 2020 to whatever a minimum wage salary will be at that time.

Finally, it’s worth noting that, as with many policy commitments, there are likely to be unintended consequences. This is because the government has decided to make earning more than the tax allowance an eligibility criteria for some crucial policies – such as to access more generous childcare support, or auto-enrolment into employer pension schemes. This linkage is a truly asinine bit of policy-making. Raise the threshold while sticking to this approach and ever more low-paid part-timers will miss out on vital forms of economic security.

So, yes, let’s debate tax cuts. Given the squeeze on incomes there will inevitably be pressure on all parties to help ease the pressure on households through the tax system. But let’s discuss this in the knowledge of the fiscal hole that still needs to be filled (which will most likely mean tax rises too). And, crucially, let’s be candid about who really gains from these proposals.

Gavin Kelly is chief executive of The Resolution Foundation

George Osborne arrives at Number 10 Downing Street with his special adviser Rupert Harrison on 7 October 2013. Photograph: Getty Images.

Gavin Kelly is a former adviser to Downing Street and the Treasury. He tweets @GavinJKelly1.

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.