Tax doesn't have to be taxing!

Imagine for a moment that there is a big, important job that needs doing. It’s not going to be easy and will take quite a lot of time, effort and commitment. The job is offered to two different people. They both outwardly express a willingness to take on the responsibility and get the work done, but their approach and attitude varies considerably.

Person A (can’t think of a better name but ‘Selfie Feet’ randomly springs to mind) makes their offer in this way:

“If I take on this job then I will immediately pass the buck and ensure that the real work is done by somebody else. Many people will be relying on me to do the job competently, and many will lose out when I don’t, but I don’t really care about this. The only thing that matters is that if things go well I can, by a vicarious sleight of hand, claim all the credit for myself, whereas if things go badly I will quite reasonably blame someone else. It’s all about having the opportunity to scapegoat as far as I’m concerned.”

Person B on the other hand (any number of names would work, but not Theresa, Boris or Dave. Definitely not those) has this to say:

“I’ll take on this job and take on all the responsibility for it. I’ll need some help and support from others, but hopefully once the job is done those same people will benefit from it. And when the work’s been completed you’ll have the chance to judge for yourself whether or not I did a good job.”

Who would you have more respect for? Who would you prefer to give the job to? It seems pretty clear to me that A is all about the image and the kudos, whereas B is willing to put his/her head above the parapet, get the job done and take responsibility for the outcome.

Lately I’ve had taxes on my mind (it’s all rock and roll at our house, believe me). They’ve been on my mind all the more since reading this excellent article in The Guardian. The Conservative party want to convince us all that tax is a burden and should be reduced as much as possible. They are proposing cutting corporation tax to 17%, which would be one of the lowest rates in the developed world. I think I have a basic grasp of the ideology: low tax rates are needed to attract and keep the entrepreneurs, innovators, wealth-creators and money-makers whose work benefits us all and whose absence would plunge Britain into a Third-World state of poverty and despair.

The problem is, it just doesn’t seem to be true. As the Guardian article makes clear, the wealthiest Swedes are not leaving their country in droves despite having a top income tax rate of 60%, because they understand that this gives them great state welfare and ensures that future generations receive a great education. In Germany (where their economy is even bigger than Britain’s which has THE FIFTH LARGEST ECONOMY IN THE WORLD DIDN’T YOU KNOW!!!) the rate is 30%, and their infrastructure is the envy of Europe.

So why does the Conservative party persist with this myth that tax is a bad thing? Why keep arguing and arguing that higher tax rates don’t bring any benefits when they quite clearly do, in all sorts of different ways?

Honestly I can think of only one explanation: like Person A, they just want to duck the responsibility. They want to be able to blame someone else when it all goes wrong.

Take the NHS as one example. When the whole thing is privatised and the childish, immature notion of providing good healthcare for everyone regardless of their income has finally been put to bed, the Conservatives will quite legitimately be able to blame other people for any mishaps or mistakes. “Don’t blame us!” they’ll say. “You don’t pay us any tax for this anymore! Talk to your provider. Talk to your insurance company. It’s all their fault.”

Similar things would happen in education. When we have nothing but free-schools and academy chains (and I’m very suspicious that the savage cuts are a backdoor attempt to continue the policy of getting rid of all state schools) then the government of the day will absolve themselves of all responsibility for educational standards. Shrink the state and you shrink its accountability too.

A braver government would not cut taxes. A more courageous, caring and forward-thinking government would, like Person B, say to its citizens: “We’re not passing the buck to anyone. Give us the money to do these things for you, then judge us by the results. If you don’t like what you get, then vote for someone else.”

There are lots of things to consider when we vote on June 8^th. A vote for the Conservatives would, in my view, be a mistake. And one of many reasons for that is their ongoing refusal to have the guts to take responsibility.        

The Gospel according to 294 (almost entirely Conservative) MPs

“Give to everyone who asks you...unless they happen to be a foreigner. Those who were not born on the same patch of land as you are far less deserving of charity.”

“Do to others as you would have them do to you. If, however, you are financially comfortable and live in a politically stable country then of course this doesn’t apply. After all, the circumstances of your own birth were entirely down to your own hard work and diligent planning.”

“Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Unless a few national newspapers suggest that there might be a small possibility that one or two of them are trying to take advantage of your generosity. This absolves you of all responsibility to all of them. Scrounging bastards.”

“But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he said ‘I must not, on any account, do anything to help this man. His situation is unfortunate but if I stop to heal his wounds it will only encourage the thieves! If they think that there are good people in the world who might actually care then they’ll feel justified in robbing more people! No no...far better to give a few quid to charity. That way someone else can get their hands dirty.”

People were also bringing babies to Jesus. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me.” Then he looked one of them in the eye and said “Clearly you are not a child. I specifically said little children and you must be at least twelve.  Also, you have no visible scars or signs of trauma, therefore you must be lying to us all. Piss off.”

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?”

And the King will reply: “No you didn’t do any of these things, and this is why I’m so pleased with you! Thousands died because you chose instead to do what was politically expedient, or what your mates told you to do, or because you were scared of what Rupert Murdoch and Paul Dacre might write about you. You’re exactly my kind of people! Hurrah!!” 

See Luke 6:30-35, Luke 10: 30-37, Luke 18:15-17, and Matthew 25:31-46 for original source material.  

Corin

My little boy, Corin Walter Shepherd, was born at 7.37pm on Wednesday 17^th September 2014.

I’ll remember a number of things from the final few hours that led up to his birth and the few hours that followed. The moment that I saw him for the very first time is one that will, of course, never be forgotten. My dear wife had already endured a marathon and was exhausted when the time came to push. She tried and tried to get him out but nothing was happening. The doctor had a look and told us that he was facing the wrong way and was unlikely to be coming out without a bit of help. We headed down to theatre where we were told that they would try to use the forceps to encourage him along, and if that failed then it would be a caesarean section. It was at this point I convinced myself that something was going to go wrong: his heart-beat would stop; he’d be injured in some way; he’d come out not breathing; he’d have two heads. I remember sitting alongside my wife as she lay on the operating table. I smiled at her, told her everything was going to be fine. She’d been through so much more than I had and for her sake I wanted to appear as calm and confident as I possibly could. Inside I was a mess.

I needn’t have worried. After a couple of twists and pulls, Corin made his grand entrance. He was by far the loudest person in the room! Proudly announcing his arrival into the world, he turned to look at me with a very cross face, rebuking me for doubting that he was ever going to be less than perfect. Daddy! Daddy! How little faith you have! I am Corin, hear me roar!! A few minutes later I think he had forgiven me, as I held him in my arms and walked him round the operating theatre. Quiet and content, his eyes darted around the room, taking it all in. Calmly accepting this strange new world.

As intense and draining and joyful as all of this was, it wasn’t until a few hours later that the wonderful gift and privilege of parenthood really hit me. I’d been unable to think straight for some time, but driving home by myself later that night, having left my new family safe in a hospital bed, I was calm and quiet enough to be able to hear a whisper. A profound, encouraging, life-affirming whisper.

He’s not yours.

It made me frown too. He’s not yours. What do you mean? I think you’ll find that he is! I’ll get all Jeremy Kyle on your ass if I need to!

He’s not yours.

So whose is he then??

He’s mine.

And who exactly might you be?

I think you know.

And yes, I did. The conversations that I’d had with God over the past few days had been panicked, one-way monologues. I’d forgotten what it was like to listen to Him, but in the quiet of my car there was no mistaking His voice. And what He was saying made perfect sense.

We always talk about our children. This is my son. My daughter. These children are mine. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve called Corin my boy many times already and will continue to do so. You are their parent and primary carer, more responsible to them than any other human being, so it’s quite normal to think of them as yours.

They’re not though. Not really. They, like all the billions and billions of people in the world, are God’s. They are His children just like we all are. Being a parent is a precious, precious gift and a wonderful thing. Through an act of love, my wife and I have created a person. For as long we are able we get to care intimately for another human being. Our love for him is as strong as any human love possibly could be. Over and above any other person we are responsible for his safety and well-being. We get to nurture him, teach, encourage, and protect him. He will probably be the best thing that will ever happen to us.

But we don’t have any rights of ownership. He’s not ours. We don’t have the right to impose our preferences or viewpoints on him. We don’t have the right to force him to make choices, pursue relationships or careers that we think are the right ones. We don’t have the right to try and turn him into the person that we think he should be.

Our only aim, and our only prayer, is that every day of his life he will know the love of his Heavenly Father, and that he will follow the path that that Daddy – the Daddy who knew all along that he was going to be perfect – has laid out for him. And if my wife and I can be signposts along the way then we will have done our duty in this wonderful gift called parenthood.