Footballers don't necessarily work harder if they're paid more. Photo: Getty
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Transfer Deadline Day blows apart scare stories of Labour's plan to reinstate 50p tax rate

How footballers behave on Transfer Deadline Day suggests that raising the top tax rate isn't that dangerous.

Today sees a biannual event in which tens of thousands of people in our country glue themselves to their television and computer screens in a mass monitoring of a rare and globally mobile species. No I am not describing Autumnwatch with Bill Oddie. I am of course talking about Transfer Deadline Day, and the movements of many millionaire footballers across the globe.

The event twice a year when we can all watch members of the 1 per cent truly respond to national tax rates. For example, just monitor the movements today of Radamel Falcao; will he leave the tax haven of Monaco to come to England or Spain? The latter has a new 52 per cent tax rate.

Yet this more tracksuited version of what takes place daily in the financial sector also provides the first opportunity to test whether Labour’s plans to reinstate the 50p tax rate is having the apocalyptic effect that the Tories like to claim. How many of these starlets who are signing in and around the country will refuse to sign up for anything beyond six months for fear of the “war on the better off”, as the Telegraph’s Allister Heath describes a 5 per cent increase in taxation?

One of the big debates over the 50p rate is around the behavioural response it is claimed it creates. Of course there will be those who do choose a country by the lowest marginal tax rate, whether it is 45 per cent or 25 per cent. But the government argues that the behavioural response of such high-paid people coming to our country, and those already working here, would be huge. However, this argument relies on few facts and instead anecdotal evidence – a bit like rumours on Transfer Deadline Day.

Nevertheless, it does not stop there. As according to George Osborne’s logic since April 2012, players such as Wayne Rooney have been playing better, and working harder for their clubs. In fact, we should probably be thanking George Osborne (a Chelsea fan) for the excellent performance of the England team in the World Cup…

This is because the other plank of rightwingers' use of the behavioural argument by which Osborne axed the 50p rate is rarely disputed: that the rich work harder when taxed less. And to be fair, Rooney and other footballers earning over £1,000,000 a year (if we assume they declare this as income) may have indeed been training harder. But would it be because such a millionaire footballer has had an additional £700 a week more added to their current minimum of £20,000 a week?

Don’t get me wrong, £700 is a lot of money to me and most people. But to put it in perspective, that is the equivalent of the median earner who receives £517 a week (£26,800 a year) getting around an extra 18 quid a week more. Again not to be sniffed at, but not even enough for a Wayne Rooney hair appointment.

But would an £18 a week pay rise (or an increase in your wage by a 1/28) considerably raise the work rate of most people? I would hazard a guess that it probably would not in general. For example, would you work longer hours, such as an extra three hours a week, for a marginal pay rise of say £18, or would you be happy to get away at lunchtime on a Friday even if that meant you’d lose £18?

This is of course a relative question, given that those on middle and low incomes are more effected by other taxes such as VAT, than the average Premiership footballer. But surveys have shown that most people would rather work fewer hours even if this led to marginally lower pay. Shouldn’t we assume therefore that top millionaires are no different? Especially when you consider the proportions in pay they are dealing with.

So even if you are not interested in football nor footballers, you should still pay attention to this Transfer Deadline Day, and the whereabouts of Falcao, as it’ll be a prelude to one of the biggest arguments on taxation at the general election.

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org