Analysing the costs and benefits of immigration. Photo: Getty
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Yes, EU immigrants do have a positive impact on public finances

The academics behind a study that shows EU migrants make a net contribution to our economy on the positive impact of recent immigrants.

The impact of immigration on Britain’s tax and welfare system is perhaps the most important economic issue in the debate over the country’s relationship with the EU and its principle of free movement. There are claims that immigrants from Europe take advantage of the UK’s benefit and health system. This has led to political pressure to limit immigrants' access to benefits and public services and even restrict immigration from the European Economic Area countries.

But, despite the controversy surrounding this issue, evidence for how much immigrants take out of and contribute to the public purse in Britain is surprisingly sparse. Our new research published by the Royal Economic Society in the Economic Journal aims to fill this void.

Based on the UK Labour Force Survey and a multitude of government sources, we calculate the overall fiscal contribution of native Britons and immigrants. Our findings show that European immigrants to the UK have paid more in taxes than they received in benefits, helping to relieve the fiscal burden on UK-born workers and contributing to the financing of public services.

To do this, we assign individuals their share of cost for each item of government expenditure. We then identify their contribution to each source of government revenue. We distinguish between immigrants from the European Economic Area (EEA), and those from outside Europe. Additionally, we break down the EEA group into immigrants from the Eastern and Central European countries that joined the EU since 2004 (known as A10 countries), and immigrants from the rest of EEA.

Positive net contribution

Our findings show that immigrants to the UK who arrived since 2000, and for whom we observe their entire migration history, have made consistently positive fiscal contributions regardless of their area of origin. Between 2001 and 2011 recent immigrants from the A10 countries contributed to the fiscal system about 12 per cent more than they took out, with a net fiscal contribution of about £5bn.

At the same time the overall fiscal contributions of recent European immigrants from the rest of the EU totalled £15bn, with fiscal payments about 64 per cent higher than the value of public services they used. Immigrants from outside the EU countries made a net fiscal contribution of about £5.2bn, thus paying into the system about 3 per cent more than they took out.

In contrast, over the same period, native British people made an overall negative fiscal contribution of £616.5bn. The fiscal balance of overall immigration to the UK between 2001 and 2011 amounts therefore to a positive net contribution of about £25bn, over a period in which the UK has run an overall budget deficit.

Our analysis thus suggests that immigrants arriving since the early 2000s from Europe have made a net contribution to Britain’s public finances. This is a reality that contrasts starkly with the view often maintained in public debate that immigrants are a drain on the economy.

State benefits

This conclusion is further supported by our evidence on the degree to which immigrants receive tax credits and benefits compared with natives. Recent immigrants are 43 per cent (17 percentage points) less likely to receive state benefits or tax credits. These differences are partly attributable to the fact that immigrants are generally working-age men and coming to the UK to work. However, even when compared with natives of the same age, gender composition and education, recent immigrants are still 39 per cent less likely than natives to receive benefits.

Additionally, our research points at the strong educational background of immigrants. For instance, while the percentage of natives with a degree was 24 per cent in 2011, that of EEA and non-EEA immigrants was 35 per cent and 41 per cent, respectively. Similarly, about one in two British born individuals fall into the “low education” category (defined as those who left full-time education before 17), while only 21 per cent of EEA immigrants and 23 per cent of non-EEA immigrants do so.

Most immigrants arrive in the UK after completing their education abroad, and thus at a point in their lifetime where the discounted net value of their future net fiscal payments is positive. If the UK had to provide each immigrant with the level of education they have acquired in their home country (and use productively in the UK, as natives do), the costs would be substantial.

Our estimates indicate that recent immigrants endowed Britain with productive human capital between 2000 and 2011 that would have cost £6.8bn in spending on education. This aspect is often neglected in the debate about the costs and benefits of immigration.

Christian Dustmann is director at the Centre for Research and Analysis on Migration (CReAM) at University College London; Tommaso Frattini is assistant professor of economics at the University of Milan

Christian Dustmann receives funding from European Research Council (ERC). Tommaso Frattini does not work for, consult to, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has no relevant affiliations. This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.


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Brexit confusion is scuppering my show – what next?

My week, from spinning records with Baconface, Brexit block and visiting comedy graves.

I am a stand-up comedian, and I am in the process of previewing a new live show, which I hope to tour until early 2018. It was supposed to be about how the digital, free-market society is reshaping the idea of the individual, but we are in the pre-Brexit events whirlpool, and there has never been a worse time to try to assemble a show that will still mean anything in 18 months’ time.



A joke written six weeks ago about dep­orting eastern Europeans, intended to be an exaggeration for comic effect, suddenly just reads like an Amber Rudd speech – or, as James O’Brien pointed out on LBC, an extract from Mein Kampf.

A rude riff on Sarah Vine and 2 Girls 1 Cup runs aground because there are fewer people now who remember Vine than recall the briefly notorious Brazilian video clip. I realise that something that gets a cheer on a Tuesday in Harrogate, or Glasgow, or Oxford, could get me lynched the next night in Lincoln. Perhaps I’ll go into the fruit-picking business. I hear there’s about to be some vacancies.



I sit and stare at blocks of text, wondering how to knit them into a homogeneous whole. But it’s Sunday afternoon, a time for supervising homework and finding sports kit. My 11-year-old daughter has a school project on the Victorians and she has decided to do it on dead 19th-century comedians, as we had recently been on a Music Hall Guild tour of their graves at the local cemetery. I wonder if, secretly, she wished I would join them.

I have found living with the background noise of this project depressing. The headstones that she photographed show that most of the performers – even the well-known Champagne Charlie – barely made it past 40, while the owners of the halls outlived them. Herbert Campbell’s obelisk is vast and has the word “comedian” written on it in gold leaf, but it’s in the bushes and he is no longer remembered. Neither are many of the acts I loved in the 1980s – Johnny Immaterial, Paul Ramone, the Iceman.



I would have liked to do some more work on the live show but, one Monday a month, I go to the studios of the largely volunteer-run arts radio station Resonance FM in Borough, south London. Each Wednesday night at 11pm, the masked Canadian stand-up comedian Baconface presents selections from his late brother’s collection of 1950s, 1960s and 1970s jazz, psychedelia, folk, blues and experimental music. I go in to help him pre-record the programmes.

Baconface is a fascinating character, whom I first met at the Cantaloupes Comedy Club in Kamloops in British Columbia in 1994. He sees the radio show as an attempt to atone for his part in his brother’s death, which was the result of a prank gone wrong involving nudity and bacon, though he is often unable to conceal his contempt for the music that he is compelled to play.

The show is recorded in a small, hot room and Baconface doesn’t change the bacon that his mask is made of very often, so the experience can be quite claustrophobic. Whenever we lose tapes or the old vinyl is too warped to play, he just sits back and utters his resigned, philosophical catchphrase, “It’s all bacon!” – which I now find myself using, as I watch the news, with ­depressing regularity.



After the kids go to sleep, I sit up alone and finally watch The Lady in the Van. Last year, I walked along the street in Camden where it was being filmed, and Alan Bennett talked to me, which was amazing.

About a month later, on the same street, we saw Jonathan Miller skirting some dog’s mess and he told me and the kids how annoyed it made him. I tried to explain to them afterwards who Jonathan Miller was, but to the five-year-old the satire pioneer will always be the Shouting Dog’s Mess Man.



I have the second of the final three preview shows at the intimate Leicester Square Theatre in London before the new show, Content Provider, does a week in big rooms around the country. Today, I was supposed to do a BBC Radio 3 show about improvised music but both of the kids were off school with a bug and I had to stay home mopping up. In between the vomiting, in the psychic shadow of the improvisers, I had something of a breakthrough. The guitarist Derek Bailey, for example, would embrace his problems and make them part of the performance.



I drank half a bottle of wine before going on stage, to give me the guts to take some risks. It’s not a long-term strategy for creative problem-solving, and that way lies wandering around Southend with a pet chicken. But by binning the words that I’d written and trying to repoint them, in the moment, to be about how the Brexit confusion is blocking my route to the show I wanted to write, I can suddenly see a way forward. The designer is in, with samples of a nice coat that she is making for me, intended to replicate the clothing of the central figure in Caspar David Friedrich’s 1818 German masterpiece Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog.



Richard Branson is on the internet and, just as I’d problem-solved my way around writing about it, he’s suggesting that Brexit might not happen. I drop the kids off and sit in a café reading Alan Moore’s new novel, Jerusalem. I am interviewing him about it for the Guardian in two weeks’ time. It’s 1,174 pages long, but what with the show falling apart I have read only 293 pages. Next week is half-term. I’ll nail it. It’s great, by the way, and seems to be about the small lives of undocumented individuals, buffeted by the random events of their times.

Stewart Lee’s show “Content Provider” will be on in London from 8 November. For more details, visit:

This article first appeared in the 27 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, American Rage