What do we already know about today's Budget?

Today's Budget is one of the most leaky ever. Here is a breakdown of the measures already trailed.

You would be forgiven for thinking that George Osborne's Budget speech today is simply a formality, given the amount of material that has already been leaked. Here is a summary of what has already been trailed, in what must be one of the most leaked Budgets ever.

50p tax

It looks nearly certain that the Chancellor will scrap the top rate of tax, which applies to those earning over £150,000. Rather than abolishing it outright, it will be reduced from 50p in the pound to 45p. This lays the groundwork for getting rid of it entirely next year, and reverting to 40p as the highest rate of tax.

Tax avoidance clampdown

To offset this tax cut for the rich, Osborne has promised to "come down like a ton of bricks" on those who avoid stamp duty. The annual charge on non-domiciled residents will also be upped from £30,000 to £50,000. It's worth noting that the higher rate was floated last year but did not materialise. In today's FT, Martin Taylor says we should not expect this tax clampdown to work.

Stamp duty

In a small victory for the Lib Dems, who have long been lobbying for some form of property tax, stamp duty is to be raised from 5 per cent to 7 per cent on properties worth more than £2m. This measure should raise £2.2bn to help fund the increase in the income tax threshold.

Raising the income tax threshold

Osborne will accelerate plans to raise the income tax threshold to £10,000. This move, heavily touted by the Liberal Democrats, will apply to all 23 million basic tax-rate payers and many higher earners, too. Osborne is likely to announce a large short-term increase, with plans to reach the £10,000 mark by April 2014, long before it was scheduled.

Regional pay deals

Public sector workers in poorer areas of the country will be paid lower salaries - in some cases, as early as next month. Osborne will argue that the public sector should be more like the private sector and reflect local economies, but critics say it will accentuate the economic divide between north and south. It was unclear whether the new rates would apply only to new staff or to existing staff as well. The Treasury insisted that no current employee would suffer a pay cut - rather, rates would be adjusted over time.

Sunday trading hours

The Chancellor will force through emergency legislation lifting the six-hour limit on opening hours for larger stores, in a bid to boost the economy. The restrictions will be lifted on eight weekends over the summer, to coincide with the Olympics and Paralympics. This could open the door for the restrictions to be scrapped altogether.

Tax transparency

Taxpayers will be given a breakdown of where their tax money is going, from the NHS, to defence, to unemployment benefits.

TV tax breaks

The government will launch a consultation on tax breaks for high-budget British television dramas, such as the wildly successful Downton Abbey.

Royal Mail privatisation

In a radical move, the government will take on all the assets and liabilities of the Royal Mail's pension fund, taking responsibility for paying postal workers' pensions for decades to come. This will open the door for the privatisation of the postal service: the pension fund, which has a shortfall of £9.5m, would make it impossible to attract a private sector buyer.

Planning laws to be relaxed

Osborne has said he is "deeply frustrated" with the slowness of the planning process, and will announce new legislation to make it easier to build in the countryside. This will clear the way for more homes and infrastructure to be built - but it may further undermine the coalition's claim to be "the greenest government ever". Regulations protecting wildlife are expected to be scrapped as part of this drive.

International aid

It looks as if the commitment to spend 0.7 per cent of GDP on international aid will be maintained.

 

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war