Nick Clegg speaks at his party's spring conference in York earlier this month. Photograph: Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Lib Dems revolt over Clegg's refusal to cut taxes for the poorest

Lord Oakeshott and the liberal Centre Forum are demanding a cut in the National Insurance threshold, rather than another cut in income tax.

There is no coalition policy of which Nick Clegg is prouder than the increase in the personal tax allowance. Having achieved the original target of £10,000 (from a starting level of £6,475 in 2010/11) a year earlier than expected, Clegg has been pushing George Osborne to go further - and will get his wish in the Budget tomorrow. The Chancellor is likely to announce that the tax threshold will rise to £10,500 next year and perhaps even to £10,750 if he's feeling generous. Given the Lib Dems' limited success in government (no AV, no House of Lords reform, no mansion tax), Clegg is understandably keen to claim credit for a policy that voters overwhelmingly support and that David Cameron rejected as unaffordable during the first 2010 leaders' debate ("I would love to take everyone out of their first £10,000 of income tax, Nick. It's a beautiful idea, it's a lovely idea - we cannot afford it"). For Clegg, the increase due to be announced in the Budget is a step towards the Lib Dems' new target of a £12,500 tax allowance by the end of the next parliament. 

But not all in his party share his enthusiasm for continually hiking the tax threshold. By definition, as the policy continues, it becomes increasingly less progressive. The five million workers who earn below £10,000 will gain nothing from another rise, but all of those earning up to £120,000 will be better off (the personal allowance is tapered away at a rate of 50 per cent after £100,000 - a stealth tax introduced by Alistair Darling).  It is those in the second-richest decile who receive the most in cash terms from the policy (mainly due to the greater number of dual-earning households), followed by the richest tenth (who receive marginally less due to the tapering away of the allowance). As a percentage of income, it is middle-earners who gain the most, with those at the bottom gaining the least.

For these reasons, an increasing number of Lib Dems are calling for the party to support progressive alternatives to raising the tax threshold. The Centre Forum, the party's favourite think-tank, has proposed increasing the National Insurance threshold, which currently stands at £7,748, to help low-earners. As the IFS recently noted, aligning the NI threshold with the personal allowance would "cut taxes for 1.2 million workers with earnings too low to benefit from an increase in the personal allowance, would benefit only workers, and would simplify the direct tax system."

The reliably contrarian Lord Oakeshott has echoed this demand, stating that "Raising the income tax starting point to £10,000 is a great Liberal Democrat manifesto achievement but we should declare victory and move on, or we'll become victims of our own success. We've lifted 2 million out of income tax but left 1.2 million of them paying National Insurance contributions from around £7,750 a year." The Guardian reports that his concerns are shared by his political ally Vince Cable, who has also noted "the diminishing returns of the policy for the low paid." 

Other alternatives to raising the tax threshold include cutting VAT (which is paid by all and hits the poorest hardest) and raising in-work benefits such as tax credits. As the IFS noted, increasing the level at which the latter are withdrawn by 20 per cent would be "a bigger giveaway in entitlements to working families in the bottom three income deciles than the gains to that group of raising the personal allowance to £12,500, despite costing £10 billion per year less". 

But all of these measures lack the headline-grabbing potential of another cut in income tax. With the Tories considering making their own pledge to raise the personal allowance to £12,500, Clegg is determined not to relinquish ownership of the policy. But as he continues down this path, the divide between him and his party's redistributionists is one to watch. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

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