Uzbek-born Alisher Usmanov is the second richest man in Britain. Photo: Getty.
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The UK has more billionaires per head than any other country – which is bad news

Billionaires love Britain. But here are three big reasons why Britain shouldn’t love billionaires. 

According to this year’s Sunday Times rich list, there are 100 billionaires living in Britain. This means that the UK has a higher proportion of billionaires per capita than any other country. You might think this is a good thing: perhaps the UK really is “open for business”, perhaps these billionaires are pumping lots of money into the economy – shopping in Harrods, buying up mansions, sending their kids to private schools and occasionally giving multi-billion donations to arts foundations. Maybe some of that money will trickle down. Even if you think inequality is bad, should you be bothered by a hundred or so super-rich? Well yes, you should. Here’s why:

1. It shows we’ve got our tax system all wrong

Unlike America, China and India, we don’t grow our own billionaires, we import them (two thirds of our billionaires are foreign-born). It’s not just big companies such as Amazon and Starbucks that structure their financial affairs across multiple countries to minimise their tax bills - and for a billionaire having a base in the UK makes a lot of tax sense. Provided you are registered as non-domiciled for tax purposes (“non-dom” in accountant speak) you are only taxed £30,000 on your non-UK income (or £50,000 if you’ve been resident in the UK for over 12 years.)

Now you have to be pretty wealthy for these tax arrangements to make financial good sense. But if you do happen to be a multi-billionaire with a second (or tenth) home in London, you have a strong tax incentive to keep as much out of your money as possible out of the UK. Thankfully, for billionaires, we have some great tax lawyers to help them structure their wealth “efficiently”, taking advantage of the capital’s close links with offshore tax havens.


2. Most billionaires are putting money into the UK economy – but it’s going in all the wrong places

Wealthy non-doms are partly to blame for the rocketing prices of central London property. And, once a billionaire buys a Mayfair mansion there’s a very strong tax incentive for him to keep it empty for most of the year: if they spend too much time in the UK, they lose their non-dom tax status and their tax bill shoots up.

There are other ways in which billionaires pump money into the UK economy: they employ a range of household staff, keep Bond Street boutiques and art galleries afloat and splash their cash in central London restaurants and clubs. And yet industries that depend on the patronage of the super-rich enjoy a precarious existence. As the journalist Robert Frank explains in his 2011 book High-Beta Rich, the incomes of the world’s richest has never been so volatile, because unlike the big business owners of the past, most modern billionaires have their money tied up in stocks and shares. When billionaires fortunes are booming, everyone’s happy, but when they go bust it sends shockwaves through the many industries catering to the super-rich. Do we really want large chunks of the British economy so tied to the fortunes of a few hundred individuals?

3. They are exerting far too much influence on British politics

Billionaires can exert an outside influence on Britain’s politics through their donations. If you give more than £50,000 you can get a dinner with the PM, and to a billionaire, £50,000 is small change. Of the 43 big donors that dined with Cameron in the first quarter of 2014, four were listed as billionaires by the Sunday Times.  

Even though billionaires get a good tax deal in the UK, they still contribute significantly to the government’s coffers through tax. The average non-dom pays £55,000 in tax a year, which is 22 times the UK average. Ten years ago, the wealthiest one per cent paid 20 per cent of the UK government’s income tax. Now it’s 30 per cent. As the Sunday Times points out: in the 2012-13 tax year, sales of prime homes in the boroughs of Westminster and Kensington and Chelsea generated £708m of stamp duty, which is £73m more than the residential stamp duty receipts for Northern Ireland, Wales, Scotland, the northeast, northwest and Yorkshire and the Humber put together.

In some ways this is good – the government, after all needs the money – but it’s also problematic. The UK government’s solvency is increasingly dependent on the incomes of a small number of individuals – who can choose to move their money elsewhere at any time, and whose incomes fluctuate with the stock market. 

Sophie McBain is a freelance writer based in Cairo. She was previously an assistant editor at the New Statesman.

Photo: Getty Images
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The buck doesn't stop with Grant Shapps - and probably shouldn't stop with Lord Feldman, either

The question of "who knew what, and when?" shouldn't stop with the Conservative peer.

If Grant Shapps’ enforced resignation as a minister was intended to draw a line under the Mark Clarke affair, it has had the reverse effect. Attention is now shifting to Lord Feldman, who was joint chair during Shapps’  tenure at the top of CCHQ.  It is not just the allegations of sexual harrassment, bullying, and extortion against Mark Clarke, but the question of who knew what, and when.

Although Shapps’ resignation letter says that “the buck” stops with him, his allies are privately furious at his de facto sacking, and they are pointing the finger at Feldman. They point out that not only was Feldman the senior partner on paper, but when the rewards for the unexpected election victory were handed out, it was Feldman who was held up as the key man, while Shapps was given what they see as a relatively lowly position in the Department for International Development.  Yet Feldman is still in post while Shapps was effectively forced out by David Cameron. Once again, says one, “the PM’s mates are protected, the rest of us shafted”.

As Simon Walters reports in this morning’s Mail on Sunday, the focus is turning onto Feldman, while Paul Goodman, the editor of the influential grassroots website ConservativeHome has piled further pressure on the peer by calling for him to go.

But even Feldman’s resignation is unlikely to be the end of the matter. Although the scope of the allegations against Clarke were unknown to many, questions about his behaviour were widespread, and fears about the conduct of elections in the party’s youth wing are also longstanding. Shortly after the 2010 election, Conservative student activists told me they’d cheered when Sadiq Khan defeated Clarke in Tooting, while a group of Conservative staffers were said to be part of the “Six per cent club” – they wanted a swing big enough for a Tory majority, but too small for Clarke to win his seat. The viciousness of Conservative Future’s internal elections is sufficiently well-known, meanwhile, to be a repeated refrain among defenders of the notoriously opaque democratic process in Labour Students, with supporters of a one member one vote system asked if they would risk elections as vicious as those in their Tory equivalent.

Just as it seems unlikely that Feldman remained ignorant of allegations against Clarke if Shapps knew, it feels untenable to argue that Clarke’s defeat could be cheered by both student Conservatives and Tory staffers and the unpleasantness of the party’s internal election sufficiently well-known by its opponents, without coming across the desk of Conservative politicians above even the chair of CCHQ’s paygrade.

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.