What does Labour offer on tax now? Photo: Getty Images
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Don't be fooled. The country needs and wants a honest debate about tax

Labour's chastening defeat has led some to claim the party is abandoning its commitments on tax. But that's a myth.

Has Labour, as Janan Ganesh claimed recently, ‘quietly given up on that which used to define it’? The article – and the wider argument – was based on wrongheaded assumptions about Labour – and taxation more generally.

By arguing that Labour’s focus on taxing ‘The Rich’ was insufficient in either generating enough revenue or honouring the principle of solidarity’, he suggests that Labour has turned away from its – apparently - high tax roots. According to Ganesh, ‘voters do not wish to pay more tax and do not assume that the tax they already pay is a proxy measure of their goodness as people’.

But Ganesh is wrong: the dividing lines on tax and redistribution between the parties remain clear, and it is the Labour party that has stayed on the right side of the debate.

Firstly, the pervasive narrative of Labour as the party of high taxes must be better understood for what it is: mythology. The article refers to Labour’s offer in 1992 as a classic example of self-righteousness over higher taxes, a pervasive political myth on the right. Yet, its manifesto was full of sound and perceptive tax proposals: who knew that the Conservatives’ celebrated personal allowance extensions had their roots in Labour’s 1992 manifesto which pledged to ‘take 740,000 taxpayers out of taxation altogether’? Furthermore, it promised to leave the basic and higher rates of income tax unchanged, and to abolish the iniquitous ceiling on National Insurance, which continues to this day (where earnings under £815 a week pay 12% in NICs while earnings over £815 pay only 2% in NICs). Mythology is of course persuasive and important: but these tax policies expose the hollow scaremongering that inaccurately overshadows Labour’s economic credibility.

Secondly, Ganesh interprets the taxing of bank bonuses, increasing the top rate of income tax, and the introduction of a ‘mansion’ tax as ‘petty politics’, echoing accusations from the Telegraph of Labour’s politics of ‘pure class envy’: yet, this analysis demonstrates how far the political right underestimates the significance (and popularity) of taxing wealth.

Labour’s election tax proposals were designed to promote exactly the ‘universalism and solidarity’ that Ganesh suggests it has abandoned. Taxing wealth properly addresses the UK’s chronic inequality, and Labour’s proposals attempted to grapple with the question of fairness in the system (the moral question of how we tax) alongside the dominant concern of revenue raising (the economic question of how much we tax). While Conservatives might dream of becoming the ‘workers’ party’ in ‘taking people out of tax’ through personal allowance extensions, the policy has further entrenched inequality in the system, with the reform disproportionately benefitting the wealthiest. Meanwhile, the Equality Trust has shown that while the wealthiest 10% of taxpayers pay 35p in every pound of their income in all forms of tax, for the poorest 10%, this figure is 43p. As such, the inherent, institutionalised injustices of the tax system require a radical overhaul with a focus on entrenched wealth: this, via examples such as a tax on property wealth, was exactly Labour’s offer last month.

Ganesh is partly right when he says that ‘by international standards, Britain is not overtaxed’, as, unlike low and middle wages, entrenched and unearned wealth remains chronically under-taxed. And this is important not just for the warped caricature of a party that taxes for tax’s sake: it has huge economic consequences too. Indeed, the OECD has demonstrated that societal inequality erodes economic productivity, knocking an estimated 9% off cumulative growth in the UK between 1990 and 2010. Reforming the tax system in favour of fairness and distribution is in the interests of all those professing commitment to a strong economy. Indeed, Labour’s ‘mansion tax’ seems less far-fetched when compared to the International Monetary Fund’s promotion of a one-off wealth tax of 10% in developed countries to wipe out public debt. And while the politics of revenue raising matters here (with Labour’s mansion tax plans estimated to raise £1.2bn), the politics of fairness and distribution are morally crucial too.

Finally, Ganesh’s implicit assumption of the public’s disengagement with taxation is unfounded. Blindly presenting all tax as intrinsically ‘bad’ is to misunderstand people’s continued connection to it. Most people are not inherently against taxes if they are collected fairly, used transparently, and if all contribute a fair share - hence the public’s outrage at tax avoidance. And while the tax burdens on low to middle income earners clearly need to be lessened, parties of all stripes must rid themselves of the idea that talking tax is toxic.

Public attitudes research shows distinct support for taxes when linked to high quality public service, with significant support for the introduction of a high value property tax and even increases in personal taxation to fund the NHS. Furthermore, forthcoming Fabian Society research on public attitudes to taxation indicates the desire for a more transparent tax system, with greater information and honest debate about the tax people pay. Indeed, it was precisely this attitude that secured public confidence when Gordon Brown introduced the ‘penny increase’ in National Insurance Contributions to provide funding for the NHS (following discussion in the Fabian Society’s Commission on Taxation and Citizenship in 2000). All parties must do more to engage with this sort of open discussion on tax.

Mythologies surrounding Labour’s history and public attitudes continue to distance the party (and indeed all parties) from the brighter reality on tax, that the public can handle (and indeed desperately want) honest, open discussion on the subject. As the Institute for Fiscal Studies identified during the election, this sort of debate is chronically missing, whether it’s about how we tax, or how much we tax. And it would be wrong to let such scaremongering frighten progressive politicians from engaging with these debates over the next five years, debates which we all deserve to be part of.

Daisy Srblin is a Research Fellow at the Fabian Society and is working on a forthcoming publication on public attitudes to taxation, for publication in Summer 2015 as part of the Future of Tax project.

 

 

 

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A new German law wants to force mothers to reveal their child’s biological father

The so-called “milkmen’s kids law” would seek protection for men who feel they have been duped into raising children they believe are not biologically theirs – at the expense of women’s rights.

The German press call them “Kuckuckskinder”, which translates literally as “cuckoo children” – parasite offspring being raised by an unsuspecting innocent, alien creatures growing fat at the expense of the host species’ own kind. The British press have opted for the more Benny Hill-esque “milkmen’s kids”, prompting images of bored Seventies housewives answering the door in negligées before inviting Robin Asquith lookalikes up to their suburban boudoirs. Nine months later their henpecked husbands are presented with bawling brats and the poor sods remain none the wiser.

Neither image is particularly flattering to the children involved, but then who cares about them? This is a story about men, women and the redressing of a legal – or is it biological? – injustice. The children are incidental.

This week German Justice Minister Heiko Maas introduced a proposal aimed at to providing greater legal protection for “Scheinväter” – men who are duped into raising children whom they falsely believe to be biologically theirs. This is in response to a 2015 case in which Germany’s highest court ruled that a woman who had told her ex-husband that her child may have been conceived with another man could not be compelled to name the latter. This would, the court decided, be an infringement of the woman’s right to privacy. Nonetheless, the decision was seen to highlight the need for further legislation to clarify and strengthen the position of the Scheinvater.

Maas’ proposal, announced on Monday, examines the problem carefully and sensitively before merrily throwing a woman’s right to privacy out of the window. It would compel a woman to name every man she had sexual intercourse with during the time when her child may have been conceived. She would only have the right to remain silent in cases should there be serious reasons for her not to name the biological father (it would be for the court to decide whether a woman’s reasons were serious enough). It is not yet clear what form of punishment a woman would face were she not to name names (I’m thinking a scarlet letter would be in keeping with the classy, retro “man who was present at the moment of conception” wording). In cases where it did transpire that another man was a child’s biological father, he would be obliged to pay compensation to the man “duped” into supporting the child for up to two years.

It is not clear what happens thereafter. Perhaps the two men shake hands, pat each other on the back, maybe even share a beer or two. It is, after all, a kind of gentlemen’s agreement, a transaction which takes place over the heads of both mother and child once the latter’s paternity has been established. The “true” father compensates the “false” one for having maintained his property in his absence. In some cases there may be bitterness and resentment but perhaps in others one will witness a kind of honourable partnership. You can’t trust women, but DNA tests, money and your fellow man won’t let you down.

Even if it achieves nothing else, this proposal brings us right back to the heart of what patriarchy is all about: paternity and ownership. In April this year a German court ruled that men cannot be forced to take paternity tests by children who suspect them of being their fathers. It has to be their decision. Women, meanwhile, can only access abortion on demand in the first trimester of pregnancy, and even then counselling is mandatory (thereafter the approval of two doctors is required, similar to in the UK). One class of people can be forced to gestate and give birth; another can’t even be forced to take a DNA test. One class of people can be compelled to name any man whose sperm may have ventured beyond their cervix; another is allowed to have a body whose business is entirely its own. And yes, one can argue that forcing men to pay money for the raising of children evens up the score. Men have always argued that, but they’re wrong.

Individual men (sometimes) pay for the raising of individual children because the system we call patriarchy has chosen to make fatherhood about individual ownership. Women have little choice but to go along with this as long as men exploit our labour, restrict our access to material resources and threaten us with violence. We live in a world in which it is almost universally assumed that women “owe” individual men the reassurance that it was their precious sperm that impregnated us, lest we put ourselves and our offspring at risk of poverty and isolation. Rarely do any of us dare to protest. We pretend it is a fair deal, even that reproductive differences barely affect our lives at all. But the sex binary – the fact that sperm is not egg and egg is not sperm – affects all of us.

The original 2015 ruling got it right. The male demand for reassurance regarding paternity is an infringement of a woman’s right to privacy. Moreover, it is important to see this in the context of all the other ways in which men have sought to limit women’s sexual activity, freedom of movement and financial independence in order to ensure that children are truly “theirs”.  Anxiety over paternity is fundamentally linked to anxiety over female sexuality and women’s access to public space. Yet unless all women are kept under lock and key at all times, men will never, ever have the reassurance they crave. Even then, the abstract knowledge that you are the only person to have had the opportunity to impregnate a particular woman cannot rival the physical knowledge of gestation.

We have had millennia of pandering to men’s existential anxieties and treating all matters related to human reproduction, from sex to childbirth, as exceptional cases meaning women cannot have full human rights. Isn’t it about time we tried something new? How about understanding fatherhood not as winning gold in an Olympic sperm race, but as a contract endlessly renewed?

What each of us receives when a child is born is not a biological entity to do with as we choose. It is a relationship, with all of its complexities and risks. It is something worth contributing to and fighting for. Truly, if a man cannot understand that, then any money wasted on a Kuckuckskind – a living, breathing child he could get to know – has got to be the least of his worries. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.