Cost-of-living crisis? Why only some of us are feeling the pinch

If you believe the opinion polls, we’re all groaning under the weight of the cost-of-living crisis. And Treasurer Jim Chalmers confirms we’ve all been “under the pump”. But it’s not that simple. Some of us are doing it a lot tougher than others. And some of us are actually ahead on the deal.

In any case, where did the living-cost crisis come from? That bit’s simple. The economy’s been on a rollercoaster for the past four and a half years. COVID and the lockdowns may seem a distant memory, but almost everything that’s happened in the economy since the end of 2019 has been the direct or indirect consequence of the pandemic.

The surge in consumer prices that began in early 2022 stemmed from a combination of temporary disruptions to supply caused by the pandemic, and excess demand for goods and services as people spent the money they’d earned but couldn’t spend during the lockdowns.

The tax cuts that began this month had been planned for six years, but Chalmers changed their intended shape radically to help people most affected by the cost of living. They mean that, by the end of this year, overall living standards should be just a little up on where they were five years ago.

Just as the media focus on bad news more than good news, so you and I focus more on what’s been happening to the cost of living than what’s been happening to our after-tax income. But it’s the difference between the two – our standard of living – that matters most.

Two economists at the Australian National University’s Centre for Social Policy Research, Associate Professor Ben Phillips and Professor Matthew Gray, have been crunching the numbers, and their results may surprise you.

They’ve examined the change in our standard of living since the end of 2019, and included a forecast up to the end of this year, to take account of the latest tax cuts and changes in the May budget.

Lumping all households together, they find that we did quite well in 2020 and 2021 as the Reserve Bank cut interest rates and governments spent billions on such things as the JobKeeper scheme and temporary doubling of JobSeeker unemployment benefits. But then living standards fell sharply in 2022 as consumer prices took off and housing costs rose. Living standards fell a little further last year, taking them to 0.6 per cent lower than they were before COVID arrived.

The authors estimate that, this year, the tax cuts and continuing pay rises will lift living standards to a princely 1.6 per cent above what they were in December 2019.

But those national averages conceal much variation. When the authors ranked all households by their disposable income, then divided them into five “quintiles”, the poorest 20 per cent are expected to end the five years with their living standard 3.5 per cent higher.

Huh? They did well partly because their pensions and benefits are indexed to inflation.

At the same time, the top 20 per cent of households are expected to be 2.7 per cent ahead. Why? Partly because they did well on their investments.

So it’s the middle 60 per cent of households that have been hit the hardest by the cost of living. The second lowest 20 per cent barely broke even, while the middle and upper-middle quintiles suffered a fall in their living standards.

But now we get to the pointy bit. Why did the middle do so much worse than the rest? Because that’s where you find most of the people with mortgages. Turns out all those households with mortgages are expected to see their living standards fall by 5.6 per cent over the five years to December 2024.

What about renters? Their living standards should rise by 2.9 per cent over the period. Huh? How could that be? It’s true that shortages of rental accommodation have caused rents to rise hugely this year and last. But much of that can be seen as catch-up for the lockdown-caused falls in rents in 2020 and 2021, and the small increases in 2022.

If you’re sitting down, I’ll tell you that the living standards of people who own their homes outright are expected to rise by … 8.5 per cent.

But here’s an even bigger shock: if you divide all the households by their main source of income, those in the “other” category – that is, not reliant on either wages or pensions – should see their standard of living rise by what the authors call “an astounding 15.8 per cent”.

Penny dropped yet? Yes, we’re talking about the group that always has its hand out for a handout to thank it for being too well-off to get the age pension: the self-described, so-called self-funded retirees.

But while you’re feeling sorry for all those poor souls (whose company I’ll be joining one day), spare a kick for the economists who, several decades ago, had the bright idea of using only interest rates to control inflation. They must have had a fairness bypass.

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The moribund political duopoly is rapidly self-destructing

Why do we have so many economic problems, and why do our governments make so little progress in fixing them? Because the two main parties just play politics and by now have boxed each other in. Neither side is game to make tough decisions for fear of what the other side will do to them.

Our tax system needs repair, but neither side dares to make changes somebody somewhere might not like. So we put up with poor government services, growing waiting lists, tax avoidance by the highly paid, bracket creep and phony tax cuts.

We have a system where people with mortgages get squeezed unmercifully whenever inflation gets too high. There are fairer and less painful ways to fix the problem, but neither side has the courage to change.

When occasionally the two sides agree on some policy, it’s often a bad one. Many defence experts quietly doubt the wisdom of AUKUS. By the time the nuclear subs arrive in many years’ time – if they ever do – they’ll probably have been superseded.

But the political duopoly’s most egregious failing is its inaction on climate change. For a while, it looked like the climate wars had ended, with the Albanese government making very cautious progress towards net-zero emissions.

Now, however, Peter Dutton has come up with a new reason for delay: let’s go nuclear instead. And we don’t have to do anything unpleasant for a decade or two. It will probably never happen, but what it has done is rob commercial investors of the certainty they need to keep investing in solar and wind farms at the rapid rate we need them to. With our ageing coal-fired power stations so close to the grave, our transition to renewable energy could be very bumpy.

So, what can we do to free ourselves from the clutches of a two-party political system that’s stopped working? Well, we’re already doing it. Voters are increasingly taking the law into their own hands by opting for the minor parties and independents. We saw this at the last federal election, in 2022, where the two big parties’ combined share of first-preference votes – which has been declining since World War II – fell to 68.3 per cent, its lowest level since the Great Depression.

So, the share of first-preference votes going to minor parties and independents is now just a little short of a third. In consequence, the number of crossbenchers in the House of Representatives rose to a record 16.

It’s not difficult to judge that the duopoly’s poor performance on climate change explains much of their decline. Labor loses votes to the Greens while, for the first time, teal independents took six previously safe seats from the Liberals.

Nor is it hard to believe that Labor’s caution and the Liberals’ nuclear red herring may add to the big parties’ loss of first preferences at next year’s election.

New research by Bill Browne and Dr Richard Denniss, of the Australia Institute, finds there are now no safe seats in House of Representatives. While some Labor seats are safe from being taken by the Liberals, and some Liberal seats are safe from Labor, such seats aren’t safe from the Greens or an attractive independent candidate.

In the supposedly safe Liberal seat of Mackellar on Sydney’s northern beaches, the teal independent Dr Sophie Scamps won the seat with a two-candidate preferred swing of more than 15 per cent. A strong independent candidate’s advantage is that they can pick up the preferences of the minor parties, plus those of the other big-party candidate who was never going to win.

It’s usual for the big parties to focus on the “marginal seats” that could be won or lost if a few “swinging voters” change their votes. And it’s mainly these marginals that one big party loses to the other.

But it’s not usual for the minor parties and independents to pick up such marginal seats. No, they’re much more likely to win supposedly safe seats.

So while the big guys focus on winning or retaining the marginals, they leave themselves open to the small guys when they neglect the concerns of voters in their heartland seats. Again, climate change would be the classic concern.

The standard way of predicting the results of elections using the psephologist Malcolm Mackerras’ famous pendulum has been overtaken not just by the lack of a uniform national swing between the two majors, but by the rise of the minors and independents.

I think it will be rare for governments to be elected with big majorities in future. Wafer-thin majorities will be the norm, with “hung” parliaments common. The big guys will warn us this will lead to chaos and inaction.

Don’t you believe it! It’s never been true at the state level where, at present, only five of the eight state and territory parliaments are dominated by a majority party.

I think a move to more power for crossbenchers at the federal level could be a good way to break the big-party logjam. It’s hard to see how it could be worse than what we’ve got.

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Yes, we need tax reform, but it offers no easy answers

When we’re reminded that income tax cuts represent merely the partial return of the proceeds of earlier bracket creep, and that the process of clawing back the latest tax cut starts the same day it arrives, it’s easy to join the impassioned cry for tax reform. Sorry, it ain’t that simple.

Surely if we could end the crazy business of bracket creep, we’d pay less tax? Well, yes – but no.

Bracket creep occurs because our income tax scales ignore the reality of inflation. When our wages rise to take account of inflation, we’re no better off in real terms, but we’re often pushed into a higher tax bracket, which raises the average rate of tax we pay on the whole of our income. (If we’re not literally pushed into a higher bracket, our average tax rate still goes up because a higher proportion of our income is now taxed at a higher rate.)

So we’ve long known how to (largely) end bracket creep: do what the Americans do and increase all the bracket limits once a year, in line with the annual increase in the inflation rate. Then, it would only be rises in your real income that pushed up your average tax rate, which is fair enough.

Mission accomplished. Now we’ll all be paying less tax.

Except that the net profit the taxman makes after all the to-ing and fro-ing on bracket creep isn’t just kept in a jam jar somewhere. It’s used to help cover the ever-growing cost of all the services the government gives us, and thus to limit the size of budget deficits and government debt.

So, without the benefit of bracket creep, governments would be forced to keep making explicit increases in the rates of income tax, or to announce new taxes.

Wouldn’t that be an improvement? In principle, yes. In practice, our (politician-fed) aversion to paying higher taxes would just make politics an even bigger shoot-fight than it already is. The pollies would spend more time abusing each other and less time getting on with fixing our problems.

One thing we can be sure of is that it wouldn’t do much to slow the growth in government spending. Why not? Because our demand for more and better government services is insatiable. Because both sides of politics fight every election campaign promising more and better services – and by never showing us the tax price tag on whatever it is they are selling.

How can I be sure tax indexation would do little to slow the growth in government spending? Because that’s what happens in America. They keep running bigger budget deficits and amassing more government debt than the other rich countries (except Japan).

But they get away with it because their economy’s so big, and they’re the centre of the world financial system. A middle-level economy like ours could never pull it off.

So tax indexation isn’t high on my list of desired tax reforms. Bracket creep turns out to be just one of the dirty little tricks by which the politicians who’ve done so much to make our political system almost unworkable keep it staggering along.

It’s easy to agree on the need for tax reform, but its advocates want to reform differing things and have differing motives. “Reform” is a lovely, positive word, but you need to beware of people whose idea of reform is: I pay less, you pay more.

All the alleged reform advocated by the (big) Business Council, for instance, takes that form. They want a lower rate of company tax and a lower top rate of personal income tax – all paid for by a higher goods and services tax.

Spruikers for the highly paid make a big fuss about the government’s heavy reliance on income tax – which they exaggerate – and always claim discourages them from working and investing.

But economic theory doesn’t support these claims, and the empirical evidence – which would be more persuasive – doesn’t either. The people whose behaviour is influenced by the rate of tax on additional earnings are “secondary earners”, who have more ability to increase or decrease the hours they work because they have part-time jobs. But the nation’s executives don’t worry much about them.

No, the tax reform I think we need is higher tax on capital gains, less concessional tax on the superannuation of people such as me, a decent tax on highly profitable mining companies and, probably, a tax on big inheritances.

But don’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen.

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Despite what we're led to believe, tax cuts are no free lunch

Isn’t it wonderful that the Albanese government – like all its predecessors – has been willing to spend so many of our taxpayers’ dollars on advertising intended to ensure no adult in the land hasn’t been reminded, repeatedly, about the income tax cuts that took effect on Monday, first day of the new financial year?

But believe me, if you rely only on advertising to tell you what the government’s up to with the taxes you pay – or anything else, for that matter – you won’t be terribly well-informed. The sad truth is there’s a lot of illusion in the impressions the pollies want to leave us with when it comes to tax and tax cuts.

For instance, none of those ads mentioned the eternal truth that, when we have income tax scales that aren’t indexed annually to take account of inflation, the taxman gradually claws back any and every tax cut the pollies deign to give us. And this slow clawback process – known somewhat misleadingly as “bracket creep” – begins on the same day the tax cuts begin.

So readers of this august organ are indebted to my eagle-eyed colleague Shane Wright, who asked economists at the Australian National University to estimate how long it would take these tax cuts to be fully clawed back, using plausible assumptions about future increases in prices and wages.

A tax cut reduces the average rate of income tax we pay on the whole of our taxable income. A middle-income earner’s average tax rate will fall from 16.9 cents in every dollar to 15.5¢. The economists calculate it will take only two or three years for inflation to have lifted most taxpayers’ average tax rate back up to where it was last Sunday.

So that’s the terrible truth the pollies rarely mention. But don’t let that make you too cynical about the tax-cut game. Just because this week’s tax cut will have evaporated in a few years’ time doesn’t mean it’s worthless today. Actually, as tax cuts go, this is quite a big one. Someone earning $50,000 a year is getting a cut worth almost $18 a week. At $100,000 a year, it’s worth almost $42 a week. And on $190,000 and above, it’s worth $72 a week.

Is that enough to completely fix your cost-of-living problem? No, of course not. But if you think it’s hardly worth having, please feel free to send your saving my way. I’m not too proud to take another $18 no one wants.

Remember, too, that had Anthony Albanese not broken his promise in January and fiddled with the stage 3 tax cuts he inherited from Scott Morrison, most people’s saving would have been a lot smaller, even non-existent.

Everyone earning less than $150,000 a year got more, while those of us struggling to make ends meet on incomes above that got a lot less. In my case, about half what I’d been led to expect.

But the politicians’ illusions are built on our self-delusions. Our biggest delusion is that government works quite differently to normal commercial life. We know that when you walk into a shop you have to pay for anything you want. If you want the better model, you pay more.

Somehow, however, we delude ourselves that governments work completely differently. That the cost of the services we demand from the government need to bear no relationship to the tax we have to pay.

The politicians actively encourage this delusion in every election campaign by promising us this or that new or better service without any mention that we might have to pay more tax to cover the cost of the improvement.

Any party foolish enough to mention higher taxes gets monstered – first by the other side and then by the voters. No one wants to admit that what we get can never be too far away from what we pay.

For the near-decade of the Liberals’ time in government, they drew many votes by branding Labor as “the party of tax and spend” while claiming they could deliver us the services we want while keeping taxes low.

This was always a delusion. So they squared the circle by using various tricks they hoped we wouldn’t notice, such as underspending on aged care, allowing waiting lists to build up and secretly ending the low- and middle-income tax offset, thus giving many people an invisible tax increase of up to $1500 a year.

But the main trick they relied on was the pollies’ old favourite: bracket creep.

Get it? When we delude ourselves that we can have the free lunch of new and better services without having to pay more tax, they resort to the illusion that income tax isn’t increasing by letting inflation imperceptibly increase our average tax rate.

This is the tax-cut game. As an economist would say, our “revealed preference” is for no explicit tax increases, but for tax to be increased in ways we don’t really notice and for tax cuts to be only temporary.

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Contrary to appearances, the stage 3 tax cuts will leave us worse off

It’s time we stopped kidding ourselves about the looming tax cuts. They’re what you get when neither of the two big parties is game to make real tax reforms, and the best they can do is lumber us with yet another failed attempt to wedge the other side.

If you want real reform, vote for the minor parties, which may be able to use their bargaining power in the Senate to get something sensible put through.

The stage 3 tax cuts always were irresponsible, and still are. They’ve caused interest rates to be raised by more than they needed to be, and they’ll leave us with substandard government services, as well as plunging us back into deficit and debt.

Only an irresponsible (Coalition) government would commit themselves to making a huge tax cut of a specified shape more than six years ahead of an unknowable future, hoping they could trick Labor into making itself an easy political target by opposing them.

Back then, the Libs thought the budget was returning to continuing surpluses. Wrong. They didn’t think there’d be a pandemic. Wrong. They had no idea it would be followed by an inflation surge and a cost-of-living crisis.

Only an irresponsible (Labor) opposition would go along with legislating the tax cuts five years ahead of time, then promise not to change them should it win the 2022 election.

Let’s be clear. Just because Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s changes made the tax cuts less unfair, that doesn’t make them good policy. And just because many families, hard-pressed by the cost-of-living crisis, will be pleased to have the relief the tax cuts bring, that doesn’t mean the tax cuts are now good policy.

Don’t be misled by the Reserve Bank’s acceptance of Albanese’s claim that his changes would not add to inflation. Any $20 billion-a-year tax cut is a huge stimulus to demand, imparting further upward pressure on prices.

All the Reserve was saying was that diverting a lump of the tax cut from high-income earners to middle and low earners wouldn’t make much difference to the degree of stimulus. Why wasn’t it worried about a $20 billion inflationary stimulus? Because it had known it was coming for years, and had already taken account of it, increasing interest rates sufficiently to counter its future inflationary effect.

Get it? Had there been no huge tax cut in the offing, interest rates would now be lower than they are, and causing less cost-of-living pain.

As the Grattan Institute’s Brendan Coates and Kate Griffiths have reminded us, the big loser from the stage 3 tax cuts – whether the original or the revised version – is the budget.

The budget has done surprisingly well from the return to full employment, the effect of continuing high commodity prices on miners’ payments of company tax and from wage inflation’s effect on bracket creep. So much so that it returned to a healthy surplus last financial year. It may well stay in surplus this financial year.

Great. But next year it’s likely to return to deficit and stay there for the foreseeable future. Why? Because we can’t afford to give ourselves a $20 billion annual tax cut at this time. As if we didn’t have enough debt already, we’ll be borrowing to pay for our tax cut.

In theory, of course, we could pay for it with a $20 billion-a-year cut in government spending. But, as the Coalition was supposed to have learnt in 2014 – when voters reacted badly to its plans for big spending cuts, and it had to drop them post-haste – this is a pipe dream.

No, in truth, what voters are demanding is more spending, not less. The previous government went for years using fair means or foul – robo-debt, finding excuses to suspend people’s dole payments, neglecting aged care, allowing waiting lists to build up – to hold back government spending as part of its delusional claim to be able to reduce taxes.

As Dr Mike Keating, a former top econocrat, has said, we keep forgetting that the purpose of taxation is to pay for the services that our society demands, and which are best financed collectively.

So when we award ourselves a tax cut we can’t afford, the first thing we do is condemn ourselves to continuing unsatisfactory existing services, and few of the additional services we need.

Those additional services include education – from early education to university – healthcare, childcare, aged care, disability care and defence. (Another thing the Libs didn’t foresee in 2018: our desperate need to acquire nuclear subs.)

But don’t hold your breath waiting for any politician from either major party to explain that home truth to the punters. No, much better to keep playing the crazy game where the Libs unceasingly claim to be the party of “lower, simpler and fairer taxes” and Labor says “I’ll see you and raise you”.

Anyone who knows the first thing about tax reform knows that achieving that trifecta is impossible. But if the Liberal lightweights realise how stupid repeating that nonsense makes them seem to the economically literate, they don’t care.

All they know is that the punters lap up that kind of self-delusion. Which, of course, is why Labor never calls them out on their nonsense.

The other thing we do by pressing on with tax cuts we can’t afford is sign up for more deficits and debt. Coates and Griffiths remind us that the high commodity prices the budget is benefitting from surely can’t last forever.

If you exclude this temporary benefit, Grattan estimates that we’re running a “structural” budget deficit of close to 2 per cent of gross domestic product, or about $50 billion a year in today’s dollars.

We’re ignoring it now, but one day we’ll have to at least start covering the extra interest we’ll be paying. How? By increasing taxes. How else? Ideally, we’d introduce new taxes that improved our economic efficiency or the system’s fairness. Far more likely, we’ll just be given back less bracket creep.

It’s the pollies’ bipartite policy of not stopping bracket creep by indexing the income tax scales each year that makes their unceasing talk of lower tax so dishonest and hypocritical. They’ve demonised all new taxes or overt increases in existing taxes, while keeping bracket creep hidden in their back pocket.

Which is not to argue we must eradicate it. Most of the tax reform we’ve had – notably, the introduction of the goods and services tax – has come with the political sweetener of a big, bracket-creep-funded cut in income tax. (Would-be reformers, please note.)

Another name for bracket creep is “automatic stabiliser”. When spending is growing strongly and inflation pressure is building, bracket creep is one of the budget’s main instruments working automatically to help restrain demand by causing people’s after-tax income to rise by a lower percentage than their pre-tax income.

The pollies can’t just let bracket creep roll on for forever. You have to use the occasional tax cut to return some of the proceeds. But July 2024 turned out to be quite the wrong time to do it.

So even if the Reserve starts to cut interest rates towards the end of this year, the tax cuts mean rates will stay higher for longer than they needed to.

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How top earners kid themselves (and us) they're overtaxed

Apparently, the nation’s chief executives and other top people are groaning under the weight of the tax they pay. Is it any wonder they’re doing such an ordinary job of running the country’s big businesses? When you see what’s left of their pay after tax, it’s a wonder they bother turning up.

I know this will shock you – just as it does every time the business media remind their readers of it. According to the latest available figures, for 2020-21, the top-earning 1 per cent of taxpayers paid more than 18 per cent of the total income tax take.

Taxpayers in the top 10 per cent paid 46 per cent of the total income tax collection of $237 billion.

Think of it. Just the top 10 per cent pay almost half of all the taxes. Do you know that the bottom 50 per cent of taxpayers pay less than 12 per cent? Talk about lifters and leaners. Those lazy good-for-nothings have no idea how easy they get it. And still, they whinge unceasingly about the cost of living.

How’s your bulldust detector going? All the figures I’ve given you are true, but, like many of the things said in the political debate, they’re misleading. If you’re not smart enough to see how they’re misleading, that’s your lookout.

It’s true that because income tax is “progressive” – people at the top pay a much higher proportion of their income than those at the bottom – people at the top end up paying a much higher share of the total tax take.

That’s because they’re considered able to bear a bigger share of the cost of government. And remember that about two-thirds of those in the bottom half would have (often not well-paid) part-time jobs.

But what the people who bang on about how much tax they’re paying want you to forget is that although income tax is the biggest tax we pay, it’s just one of the many taxes – federal, state and local – we pay.

In fact, it accounts for only about half of all the tax we pay. And almost all the other taxes are “regressive” – they hit the bottom end proportionally harder than the top.

So, take account of all the other taxes, and the rich man’s burden is a lot less heavy than the rich old men try to tell us.

It’s clear that, of all the taxes we pay, it’s personal income tax that the well-off most object to and want to pay a lot less of. Whenever you see them arguing that we need major tax system reform to “sharpen incentives to invest, innovate and hire” and make the system “genuinely productivity-enhancing”, that’s what they really mean.

Most voters approve of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s decision to help ease cost-of-living pressure by diverting a big chunk of the stage 3 tax cuts from high-income earners to middle and lower earners, but the (Big) Business Council was distinctly disapproving.

“The [original] stage 3 package rewarded aspiration and started to address bracket creep with a simpler system”, but “the changes do not address any of the real issues with our tax system”, it said.

But if you’re not impressed by the argument that pretends income tax is the only tax that matters, the big business lobby has others. “Personal income contributes too much of our [total] tax revenue … [at] 51 per cent today,” it says, implying we should cut income tax and increase other, indirect taxes.

A related argument is that few countries are as reliant on income tax as we are. Figures for 2021 say our personal income tax as a proportion of total taxes is the fifth highest among the 38 member countries of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.

Again, it’s true but misleading. It’s a false comparison because, unlike almost all the other countries, Australia uses income tax to cover the cost of social security payments – such as unemployment and sickness benefits, disability and age pensions, as well as healthcare benefits – whereas other countries cover these with separate, income-related social security contributions imposed on workers and their employers.

Calculations by Matt Grudnoff of the Australia Institute show that if you add to income tax the social security contributions imposed in other countries (and, in our case, add the states’ payroll taxes), our ranking goes from fifth highest to seventh lowest. So much for that argument.

Some people argue that we should add our compulsory employer superannuation contributions to our income tax, now set at 11 per cent of wages. But that argument is wrong because the super levy is not a tax.

Taxes involve the government making you pay money into its coffers, which is then spent by the government as it sees fit. With super contributions, the money goes into an account with a super fund that has your name on it and is always yours to spend as you see fit once you reach a certain age. If you die without spending it all, what’s left goes to your rellos.

And here’s another thing. One reason income tax accounts for as much as half of Australia’s total tax collections is that the Abbott government abolished former prime minister Julia Gillard’s carbon tax and her mining tax.

The very business lobby groups who supported these anti-tax-reform measures are now complaining that we’re too dependent on income tax. If they were genuine, the problem could be easily fixed: take up Professor Ross Garnaut’s proposal for a new, bigger “carbon solution levy”, which, by raising $100 billion a year, would greatly reduce our reliance on income tax.

Finally, don’t let the rich guys’ talk of high taxes fool you into believing Australia is a high-tax country. That’s the opposite of the truth. When you take total taxes as a proportion of gross domestic product, the OECD average in 2021 was 34 per cent. Ours was less than 30 per cent, making us ninth lowest. And only three of the eight lower countries are rich like us.

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The two big parties have wedged themselves into a corner on tax

Politicians want us to think things like the stage 3 tax cuts are matters of high principle: keeping solemn promises or redirecting tax relief to those who’ve been doing it toughest. But the sad truth is, it’s just as much about the two big parties using tax promises and tax scares to damage the other side and win elections.

The great lament coming from the big end of town is that the latest squabbles just go to show how, between them, the two sides have no interest in achieving the major tax reform the country so desperately needs.

And big business is right. The pollies have no interest in proposing any needed but controversial change that would leave them open to cheap shots from the other side. In consequence, our tax system is deteriorating. It’s neither as fair as it should be, nor as effective in raising the money needed to pay for the ever-growing list of services we demand of government.

But before I elaborate, note this: business people, like many of us, use the word “reform” to mean changing the system in a way that leaves them paying less tax while others pay more. Specifically, they want to increase the goods and services tax so that we can afford to reduce the rate of company tax and the income tax paid by people at the top. When they call for “genuine reform” after Labor has halved the intended tax cuts for top earners, that’s what the bosses are on about.

But don’t forget this: Anthony Albanese has gone for the best part of two years happy to let these greatly unfair tax cuts proceed rather than be condemned as a promise-breaker. Only in the past week or three has he changed his tune.

Why? Because party polling and focus group feedback told him all the cost-of-living pain had finally caught up with him. His popularity had slumped, and he was in danger of losing next year’s election, with the rot starting at a Victorian byelection in a month or so’s time.

But while I’m casting aspersions, I have little doubt that, had Albanese allowed the stage 3 cuts to proceed as already legislated, the first person to point to how badly low- and middle-income earners had been treated would have been Peter Dutton.

These days, tricky politics trumps good policy. And neither side has a monopoly on hypocrisy.

It’s been almost a quarter of a century since our last large-scale, controversial tax reform: John Howard’s introduction of the GST. And that brought him within a whisker of being tossed out. Since then, talk about tax has become the biggest and best political football for the two parties to kick back and forth as they try to gain the advantage in election campaigns.

The Liberals portray themselves as what Dutton called “the party of lower taxes”, while damning Labor as “the party of tax and spend”. Many voters find this easy to believe, and it does have a degree of truth, even though taxes were at their highest as a proportion of gross domestic product in the early noughties under Howard.

The main thing that pushes tax collections up is bracket creep, “the secret tax of inflation”, according to Malcolm Fraser, and collections hit the heights whenever a government, of whatever colour, leaves it too long before giving some of it back in a tax cut.

What’s true is that Labor is more inclined to spend on health and education and all the rest, leaving it under greater pressure to let taxes rise. But, as we saw particularly under Scott Morrison, the Libs are more inclined to underspend on things such as aged care, while allowing waiting lists for non-urgent surgery and at-home aged care packages to build up. You hope the dam doesn’t burst until the others are back in power.

The Libs never propose explicit tax increases before elections but whenever Labor wants to pay for something by cutting back concessions to the better-off, the Libs make a meal of it. When, next time, Labor reacts by promising not to make any tax changes, you give credibility to some groundless rumour that it intends to bring back death duties.

What makes unpopular tax reform even more unlikely is the game of chicken the parties play, which they call “wedging”. I propose some extreme tax change I know the other side won’t like, hoping they’ll oppose it. If they do, I accuse them of being opposed to tax cuts. But they invariably see the trap and refuse to oppose my change. Meaning we often end up with a bad policy going ahead unchallenged.

The original stage 3 was partly intended to swing one for the Liberals’ well-off supporters. But also, to tempt Labor to oppose it, proof positive it was the high-tax party.

But get this: now Labor has broken its promise and made the tax cuts far more politically attractive, the wedge is on the other foot. Should Dutton vote against Labor’s broken promise, he’ll be accused of raising the taxes on “middle Australia”.

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Why all politicians want to use bracket creep to mislead you

Another round of tax cuts; another round of politicians saying tricky things about bracket creep. Whether they’re giving some of it back or letting it rip, our pollies on both sides hope bracket creep remains, as it has long been, their dirty little secret.

The latest is the claim that Anthony Albanese’s changes to the legislated stage 3 tax cuts will, over the next 10 years, cause income tax collections to be $28 billion higher than they would have been.

Anthony Albanese’s tax cut rejig will make them fairer. But we’ll have more bracket creep under Labor than we would had under Scott Morrison.

This figure is from Treasury’s published advice to Treasurer Jim Chalmers. What Treasury hasn’t been honest enough to do, however, is to warn us that its projection is based on a quite unrealistic assumption.

So let me tell you how bracket creep works, in a way the pollies never would.

First, understand that the income tax scale assumes there’s no such thing as inflation. It assumes that every pay rise you get results from a promotion or from moving to a better-paid job.

In which case, it would be fair enough to make you pay a higher proportion of your income in tax. It ignores that most of the pay rises we get merely cover the rise in consumer prices, leaving us no better off in “real” terms.

This would be true even if all of us paid the same flat tax rate of, say, 30 per cent. But it’s even more the case because the tax scale is “progressive”: our income is taxed in slices, with the tax rate on each slice getting progressively higher.

That is, the proportion of our total income paid in tax – our overall average rate of tax – increases as our income increases, for whatever reason.

The justification for having a progressive tax scale is to ensure that those who can afford to cover a higher share of the cost of government pay a lot more than those who can’t. Fair enough.

It’s easy to see how a rise in our income that pushed the last part of that income into a higher tax bracket would increase our average rate of tax. That’s how this phenomenon got the name “bracket creep”.

What’s harder to see is that, though moving to what economists call a higher marginal tax rate is the fastest way to increase your average rate of tax, the mere fact that every pay rise means a greater proportion of your total income is taxed at your (higher) marginal rate will still drag up your average rate. That’s even if you’re not pushed into a higher bracket – say, because you’re already on the top marginal rate.

What all this means is that, for as long as the pollies sit back and do nothing, the presence of any degree of inflation means everyone’s average tax rate keeps rising forever.

The dirty secret is, all pollies like bracket creep because it’s a way of increasing taxes without having to announce it, meaning many people don’t notice.

But obviously, the pollies know they can’t get away with that forever. The standard solution to bracket creep – practised by the US, Canada, Denmark, Sweden and other European countries – is to automatically index all the tax brackets each year, raising them by the rate of inflation.

The Fraser government did this for a couple of years in the 1970s before deciding it wasn’t worth it politically. Because the annual tax cuts it produced were small and automatic, the media and the taxpayers took too little notice of them.

So Malcolm Fraser decided it was smarter politics to delay having tax cuts until you could afford to have a big one. Say, every three years or so. And what about having it before an election – or maybe just after an election?

And, what’s more, why give everyone the same percentage cut in taxes when you could play favourites by cutting tax rates on some slices more that on others?

Why not cut the rates for higher brackets by more than you cut them for lower brackets? This would make the tax scale less progressive, which the better-off would love.

This is the way both sides have played the tax-cut game until then-treasurer Scott Morrison came along in the 2018 budget with his tricky plan to cut tax in three stages over seven years.

Note that having tax cuts only every three years or so means the taxman gets to keep a lot of the proceeds of bracket creep. Your eventual tax cut gives back only some of the extra that bracket creep has taken.

What a tax cut does is lower your average tax rate to somewhere closer to what it was at the time of the previous tax cut. And, of course, the day after your latest tax cut, the bracket-creep machine starts pushing your average tax rate back up again.

Note too, that if, rather than raising each of the tax brackets by the same percentage, the pollies start fiddling with the size of the rates applying to some of the brackets, there’s no guarantee that the bracket creep you lost is related to what you get back.

And the truth is, bracket creep doesn’t hit taxpayers towards the top of the scale proportionately to those towards the bottom. Average tax rates towards the bottom rise more than those at or near the top.

That’s because the brackets are closer together – the tax slices are thinner – near the bottom than they are near the top. And, of course, someone already on the top marginal tax rate can’t ever move to a higher rate.

Got all that? Now we can look at the strange design of the three-stage tax cut treasurer Morrison announced in the budget of May 2018, and at Albanese’s broken promise last week not to change stage 3 of the cuts.

As I’ve written several times, stage 1 – the low- and middle-income tax offset – was terminated, without announcement, in the Morrison government’s last budget before the 2022 election. Labor could have made sure everyone knew this, but chose to stay silent.

The stage 2 tax cuts were small and did little for taxpayers in the bottom half. The stage 3 tax cuts, long planned to start this July, centred on moving to put everyone earning between $45,000 a year and $200,000 a year – about 94 per cent of taxpayers – on a marginal tax rate of 30¢ in the dollar.

This, we were assured, would end bracket creep for good and all. Not true – because, as I’ve explained, there’s more to bracket creep than moving into a higher tax bracket. What is true, however, is that this move would have greatly reduced the extent of bracket creep in future.

Trouble is, moving to this radically less progressive tax scale involved no tax cuts for people at the bottom, and only modest cuts for those in the middle, but massive cuts for people on $180,000 a year and above.

Get it? The bottom half, who have contributed most to the bracket creep now being returned, would get precious little of it back, while the top half would clean up. As we know, Albanese’s rejig will make the tax cuts much less unfair.

However, the drawback is that, in future, we’ll have more bracket creep under Labor’s plan than we would have under Morrison’s. That’s the main reason Treasury projects that, over the next 10 years, the taxman will now collect about $28 billion more than he would have without the latest changes.

Just one problem with this arithmetic. It assumes that future governments could get away with letting bracket creep rip for a whole decade without ever having a tax cut to give some of it back. Yeah, sure.

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Albanese uses tax cuts to ease cost of living pressure - a little

 Having trouble deciding the rights and wrongs of Anthony Albanese’s claim to be changing the stage 3 tax cuts in a way that helps ease cost of living pressure without adding to inflation? The air’s been thick with economists making confusing statements on the topic.

For instance, economists at one bank say any tax cut will add to inflation pressure, but canning the cut would allow the Reserve Bank to lower interest rates by 0.5 per cent. Those at another outfit say Albo’s changes will be inflationary because they involve reducing the tax cuts going to high-income earners (who would have saved more of it) and increasing the tax cuts going to low and middle-income earners (who, being harder up, will spend more of it).

Well, let’s see if I can help you decide what to think of the government’s changes. There are three main ways to decide.

The first is a very popular method: let your preferred party do your thinking for you. If you vote Labor, conclude the change must be a good idea. If you vote Liberal, conclude it must be a terrible betrayal of the nation’s trust.

Second, just as popular method: look yourself up in the government’s “what you save” tax table and see how the change will affect you. If you’ll be better off under Albo’s changes, conclude they’re just what the economy needs. If you’ll be worse off than you would have been under former prime minister Scott Morrison’s original stage 3, conclude it will be an economic disaster.

Third, a rarely used method: try to work out which version would, in all the circumstances, have been best for the nation as a whole, regardless of how you personally would be affected.

Adding to this week’s confusion is that, in principle, Albanese’s goal of reducing cost of living pressures without adding to inflation pressure is a contradiction in terms.

Why? Because increasing the cost of living pressure on households is the very stick the managers of the economy are using to get inflation down. It’s deliberate.

When the economy is growing so strongly that the demand for goods and services is running faster the economy’s ability to supply them, prices keep rising.

So the only quick way economists can think of to stop prices rising so rapidly is to slow demand by throttling people’s ability to keep spending. This makes it harder for businesses to keep whacking up their prices.

This is precisely the reason the Reserve has increased interest rates so greatly: to leave people with mortgages with less money to spend on other things.

The government’s been helping with the squeeze by hanging on to almost all the extra income tax we’ve been paying – including because of bracket creep – and getting the budget into surplus.

A budget surplus means the government is using its taxes to take more spending potential out of the economy than it’s putting back in with its own spending.

Get it? The plan is to fix inflation by making the cost of living squeeze worse, to eventually make it better. Sounds crazy, but it’s true.

Albanese and his Treasurer, Jim Chalmers, know this full well. But so many people are feeling so much pain that they’re threatening to vote against the government, so they had to find a way to ease the pain.

This is a major rejig of the planned tax cuts, to ensure much more of the money goes to low- and middle-income earners – who’ve been hurting most – and much less to the top earners.

But hang on. Treasury expects the budget to return to big deficits in the coming financial year. Why? Because the government long ago legislated for the stage 3 tax cuts, costing a massive $21 billion a year.

Clearly, by easing the cost of living pressure on households, the tax cuts will reduce the downward pressure on prices. So those economists saying the fastest way to get the rate of inflation down would be to abandon the tax cuts are right.

But the cuts have been on the books for so long that this easing of pain coming from the budget has already been taken into account by the Reserve in deciding how much interest rates needed to rise. The tax cuts have also been taken into account in the econocrats’ forecasts of how long it will take to get inflation down.

What hasn’t been accounted for is that so much more of the $21 billion a year will now be going to people far more likely to need to rush out and spend it.

In Treasury’s published advice to the government, it acknowledges that these people have a higher “marginal propensity to consume”, but then asserts that this “will not add to inflationary pressures”.

Sorry, not convinced. What I would accept is that the effect on consumer spending isn’t so big it outweighs the other reasons for Albanese’s changes: the need for greater fairness and to keep a “progressive” income tax scale.

The defenders of the original stage 3 cuts claim that, by putting almost everyone on the same, 30¢-in-the-dollar marginal rate of tax, it would put an end to bracket creep.

Sorry, not true. Despite the name, you don’t literally have to move into a higher bracket to suffer from inflation causing your overall, average rate of tax to creep ever higher over time.

That’s why we can’t just go year after year allowing bracket creep to roll on. That’s why we do need to have a decent tax cut this year.

The original version of stage 3 wouldn’t have ended bracket creep, but would have greatly reduced it. Trouble is, it would have done so in a way that favoured high-income earners at the expense of everyone else. This even though bracket creep hits people lower down harder than those higher up.

On page 8 of its advice to the government, Treasury does a good job of demonstrating that Albanese’s way of returning (some of) the proceeds of bracket creep is much fairer.

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Good policy, values and politics all agree: change the tax cuts

I have no inside info on whether Anthony Albanese will stick to his oft-repeated promise to deliver the stage 3 tax cuts intact on July 1, or change them in some way because the cost-of-living crisis means all bets are off.

 I don’t even know that the measures he’ll discuss at the meeting of Labor’s caucus on Wednesday will be the last word on what we’ll see in the May budget, or on our payslips after July 1.

 I’m paid to say what I think should happen, not to predict what will. So I can tell you this: if Albanese doesn’t initiate belated changes to make the tax cuts fairer and of greater benefit to those who’ve suffered most from the cost of living, it will show he’s lost touch with good policy, Labor’s professed values and even what’s needed to protect his political hide.

 Let’s start from first principles. The longstanding view that our system of taxes and benefits should require those who can best afford it to bear more of the cost of government than those who can least afford it rests on two key policies: a largely means-tested system of government pensions and benefits, and a “progressive” scale of income tax.

 Your income is taxed in slices. The first slice is untaxed, then the rate of tax on subsequent slices gets progressively higher. When you add the slices together, the average rate of tax you pay on the whole of your income is far higher for people on very high incomes than for those on modest incomes.

 As legislated, the stage 3 tax cut would make three changes to the tax scale. It would reduce the rate of tax on the slice of income running from $45,000 a year to $120,000 a year from 32.5c in the dollar to 30c.

 Then it would reduce the rate of tax on the slice running from $120,000 to $180,000 from 37c in the dollar to 30c.

 Finally, it would cut the rate of tax on the slice of income running from $180,000 to $200,000 from 45c in the dollar to 30c. Only the last slice of income, anything above $200,000 a year, would continue to be taxed at the top rate, unchanged at 45c in the dollar.

 Do you see how this would significantly reduce the progressivity of the tax scale? That’s just what Scott Morrison, as treasurer and then prime minister, wanted: to shift the burden of taxation away from high-income earners and on to everyone lower down.

 It’s the sort of policy you might expect from a Liberal government, but one Labor has always claimed to oppose. It initially opposed stage 3, but later changed to quietly supporting it, for fear of being branded as high-taxing by its opponents.

 If Albanese doesn’t seize this chance to make the tax cuts fairer, he’ll be remembered as the prime minister who struck the greatest blow in cutting taxes for the rich. The man who did what ScoMo couldn’t.

 Albanese has claimed that stage 3 will deliver tax cuts for everyone earning more than $45,000 a year. That’s true. Someone on $50,000 will have their average rate of tax reduced by 0.25c in the dollar, yielding a saving of $2.40 a week. Wow.

 To get a weekly saving of more than $20 a week – not a lot if you’re struggling with much higher rent or mortgage interest rates – you have to be earning more than $90,000.

 Only if your income is $120,000 will your average rate of tax be cut by 1.6c in the dollar, saving you $36 a week. At $180,000 your average rate falls by 3.4c in the dollar, saving you $117 a week. Not bad.

 But if you’re struggling on $200,000, your average tax rate falls by 4.5c in the dollar, and you save almost $175 a week. 

 According to calculations prepared by the Parliamentary Budget Office for the Greens, as they stand, the stage 3 cuts will cost the budget almost $21 billion a year. Of that, people earning less than $45,000 a year get nothing, and those earning between $45,000 and $60,000 would get less than 2 per cent of the benefit.

 The large number of people earning between $120,000 and $180,000 would get about 30 per cent of the benefit, while the relatively small number earning more than $180,000 get 44 per cent.

 It’s been said by some that rejigging the tax cuts so that more of the money went to the low- and middle-income earners who’ve been hit the hardest by the cost of living – and bracket creep – would be inflationary because they’d spend more of any tax cut than would the well-off.

 True, but not a good enough reason to distort the tax system and keep beating ordinary families into the ground.

 As it stands, stage 3 hugely benefits a minority of voters, most of whom are unlikely to vote Labor. If Albo can’t convince most voters he broke his promise because they needed a break, he ought to get out of politics.

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With luck, we’ll escape recession next year, but it will feel like one

What we’ve come to call the “cost-of-living crisis” has made this an unusually tough year for many people as they struggle to make ends meet. It’s likely to get worse rather than better next year. Which won’t help Anthony Albanese’s chances of being comfortably returned to government in early 2025.

Everyone hates rapidly rising prices and demands the government do something. But I’m not sure everyone understands the paradoxical nature of the usual ways central banks and governments go about fixing the problem. They make it worse to make it make better.

In a market economy, when our demand for goods and services exceeds the economy’s ability to supply them, businesses solve the problem by putting up their prices. The economic managers then seek to weaken our demand by squeezing households’ finances so that they can’t spend as much.

As our spending weakens, firms are less able to keep raising their prices without losing sales.

The main way the Reserve Bank puts the squeeze on household spending is by engineering a rise in mortgage interest payments, leaving people with less money to spend on everything else.

A shortage of rental housing has allowed landlords to make big rent increases. Employers have helped the squeeze by ensuring they raise wages by less than they’ve raised their prices. And Treasurer Jim Chalmers has helped by allowing bracket creep to take a bigger tax bite out of wage increases.

All this is why so many people have been feeling the financial heat this year. But even if there are no more interest rate rises to come, the existing pressures are still working their way through the economy, with little sign of relief.

Consumer prices rose by 7.8 per cent over the year to last December, but the annual rate of increase slowed to 5.4 per cent in September. That’s still well above the Reserve’s target of 2 per cent to 3 per cent.

If the Reserve has accidentally hit the economy harder than intended, we could slip into recession next year, causing a big jump in the number of people out of a job, and thus hitting them much harder.

But with any luck, it won’t come to that. And the crazy-lazy way the media define recession – a fall in real gross domestic product in two successive quarters – means that growth in the population may conceal the hip-pocket pain many people are feeling.

Consider the case of someone on the very modest wage of $45,000 a year in September 2021. If their wage rose in line with the wage price index, it would have risen by $3300 to $48,300 in September this year.

However, bracket creep, plus the discontinuation of the low and middle income tax offset, raised the average rate of income tax they pay from 9.8¢ in the dollar to 14.2¢. So their tax bill would have grown by $2460.

Now allow for the rise in consumer prices over the two years, and the purchasing power of their disposable income has fallen by about $5290, meaning their “real” disposable income is $4450 a year less than it used to be.

Can you imagine that person being terribly happy with the way their finances have fared under the Albanese government? My guess is, there’ll be growing disaffection with Labor as next year progresses.

To help him win last year’s federal election, Albanese made Labor a “small target” by promising very little change, including no change to the stage three income tax cuts, legislated long before the pandemic, to start in July next year.

His game plan had been to spend his first term being steady and sensible, keeping his promises and being an “economically responsible” government. This would get him re-elected with an increased majority and able to implement needed but controversial reforms.

But, through no great fault of his own, he’s had to grapple with the worst surge in the cost of living in decades. If there’s a low-pain way to get inflation back under control, I’ve yet to hear about it.

The trouble set in well before the change of government, and the Reserve Bank began its long series of interest rate rises during the election campaign.

My guess is that Albanese’s hopes of storming back to power at an election due by May 2025 are dashed. But it’s hard to see Peter Dutton winning the election unless he can win back the Liberal heartland seats that went to the teals, which seems doubtful.

So, it’s not hard to see Albanese losing seats and reduced to minority government, dependent on the support of the Greens and teals.

There is, however, one thing he could do to cheer up many voters: rejig the coming tax cuts so the lion’s share of the $25 billion they’ll cost the budget goes not to the high-income taxpayers who’ve had the least trouble coping with living costs, but to those on lower incomes who’ve the most.

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Why your income tax refund is so much less than last year's

The political hardheads in Canberra are convinced much of the resounding No vote in the Voice referendum is a message from voters that they want the Albanese government fully focused on the cost of living crisis – which is really hurting – not wasting time on lesser issues.

I suspect they’re right. But if so, it’s the consequence of years of training by politicians on both sides that we should vote out of naked self-interest, not for what would be best for the country.

So, as the government switches to moving-right-along mode, expect to hear a lot from Anthony Albanese and Treasurer Jim Chalmers on how much they feel our pain and the (not so) many things they’ve done to ease the pain.

If that pain gets a lot worse – or just if the cries of anguish get a lot louder – expect to see the government doing more. If the Reserve Bank has miscalculated and, rather than just slowing to a crawl, the economy starts going backwards, expect to see the two of them spending, big time.

There’s no denying that, for most of us – though by no means everyone (see footnote) – it’s become a weekly struggle to make ends meet. Paradoxically, this is partly because of the post-lockdowns surge in many prices and partly because of the Reserve Bank’s efforts to stop prices rising so fast by ramping up interest rates.

Mortgage interest rates at present are not high by past standards. Two factors explain the pain from mortgages. First, thanks to higher house prices, the size of loans is much bigger than it used to be.

Second, after lowering interest rates to rock bottom during the lockdowns, the Reserve unexpectedly raised them by a huge 4 percentage points within just 13 months.

Households with big home loans, roughly a quarter of all households, have had their belts tightened unmercifully. Less usually, the third of households that rent have seen their rents rise by 10 per cent in the past 18 months; more than that in Sydney and some other capital cities (but not Melbourne, according to Australian Bureau of Statistics figures).

To this, add the big rises in the cost of petrol, electricity and gas, home insurance, overseas travel and various other things. Most people’s wages have not kept up with the rise in prices.

So yes, the cost of living crisis is no media exaggeration. And Albanese and Chalmers are full of empathy on all the elements I’ve listed. But there’s one other contribution to the crisis that many people will have stumbled across without understanding what was hitting them.

It’s below the radar because Albanese and Chalmers do not want to talk about it. Nor does the ever-critical opposition. As a consequence, most of the media have not woken up to it – with the notable exception of this august organ.

But according to Dr Ann Kayis-Kumar, a tax lawyer at the University of NSW, one of the most Googled questions in Australia in recent times is “Why do I suddenly owe tax this year?” A related question would be, why is my tax refund so much smaller than last year’s?

I’ll tell you (and not for the first time). Preparing for former treasurer Josh Frydenberg’s last budget, just before the election in May 2022, the Morrison government decided to increase the “low and middle income tax offset” (dubbed the LAMIngTOn) from $1080 to $1500, but not to continue it in the 2022-23 financial year.

Frydenberg made much of the increase, but governments that decide not to do things aren’t required to announce the fact. So Frydenberg didn’t. And Chalmers, watching on, said nothing.

The tax offset was a badly designed measure and all the insiders were pleased to see the end of it. I was too but, as a journalist, felt it was my job to tell the people affected what the politicians didn’t want them to know: that, in effect, their income tax in 2022-23 would be increased by up to $1500 for the year.

The 10 million taxpayers affected have been getting the unexpected news in just the past three months or so, after submitting their tax returns and discovering their refund was much less than last year’s, or had even turned into a small debt to the Tax Office.

The full tax offset went to those earning between $48,000 and $90,000 a year, which was most of the 10 million. Our friendly tax lawyer notes that the median taxable income in 2020-21 was $62,600, leaving $90,000 well above the middle.

Disclosure: Having paid off my house decades ago, and being highly paid (as are politicians), I haven’t felt any cost of living pain. Which makes me think that, when the people who are feeling much pain see Albo and Jimbo giving people like me a long-planned $9000-a-year tax cut next July, while they get chicken-feed, they might be just a teensy weensy bit angry.

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Avoiding a tax-cut backlash will be harder than Albanese thinks

Anthony Albanese, who never impressed me when a warrior of the NSW Labor Left, has impressed me greatly by the way he’s conducted himself since becoming prime minister. He wants to raise the standard of political behaviour. Everyone gets listened to with respect, and every election promise he made not to do this, and not to do that, is honoured, no matter how inconvenient.

Having lumbered himself with those promises, Albo is taking the long view. His first term will be used to win voters’ respect and trust, creating a foundation for him to be more comfortably re-elected, with a program of more controversial reform.

Which brings us to the much-debated stage three tax cuts, designed by his political opponents to favour high-income earners at the expense of low and middle earners, something anathema to a Labor government but already put into law.

Many have been urging Albanese and his Treasurer Jim Chalmers to rescind the tax cuts or at least cut them back. But it now seems clear Albanese has made up his mind that the cut, no matter how deleterious, must go ahead. A clear promise was given, and must be kept. Can you imagine the outcry if it wasn’t? Peter Dutton would never let it rest.

Well, I can imagine it. But if Albanese thinks that keeping the promise will mean no outcry, he’s sadly deluded. Once the punters see how little they’re getting compared with how much the fat cats (including a particularly fat economics journo) are getting – once everyone sees the official “what-you-save tax table” published by every masthead – there’ll be a lot of anger.

And guess who’ll be leading the cry. Do you really think Dutton won’t have the front to turn on his own government’s tax cuts? He was trying it out in his budget reply speech last week: “Labor’s working poor”. How about “the struggling middle class”?

Albanese needs to do two things: get Treasury to give him an advance look at that what-you-save table, and get some pollie with a better memory to remind him how “bracket creep” works and how resentful middle income-earners get when they see more and more of every pay rise disappearing in tax.

Because the income tax scale isn’t indexed for inflation, every pay rise you get increases the average rate of tax you pay on the whole of your income – whether or not it literally lifts you into a higher tax bracket. And because the brackets are closer together at the bottom of the scale, bracket creep hits lower incomes harder than middle incomes. But middle incomes are hit harder than high incomes because those people already in the top tax bracket can’t be pushed any higher.

Bracket creep gets greater as inflation increases. The inflation rate’s been unusually high, which has led to higher pay rises, even if they haven’t been big enough to match the rise in prices. Even so, your latest pay rise is having slightly more tax taken out of it than the previous one. So bracket creep is another, hidden reason you’re having trouble keeping up with the cost of living.

If we never got a tax cut, the average rate of tax we pay on all our income would just keep going up and up forever – unless, of course, we never got another pay rise.

This is why every government knows it must have a tax cut every few years if it wants to stop the natives getting restless. But the stage three tax cut we’re due to get from July next year hasn’t been designed to compensate people at the bottom, the middle and the top proportionately to the degree of bracket creep they’ve suffered since 2017-18, when the staged, three-step tax cuts were announced.

Quite the reverse. According to estimates by Paul Tilley, a former Treasury officer, people earning up to roughly $70,000 a year will get tax cuts too small to fully reverse the rise in their average tax rate over the period.

Those earning between $70,000 and $120,000 a year will have their average tax rate cut back to what it was in 2018, whereas those earning more than that – that is, more than 1.5 times the median full-time wage – will get their average tax rate cut to well below what it was in 2018.

Now let’s look at what you save in dollars per week. Albanese says the tax cuts begin at $45,000 a year. The national minimum full-time wage is $42,250. So, people on very low wages, and many with part-time jobs, will get nothing.

On $55,000, you’ll get a saving of $2.40 a week. On the median full-time wage of about $80,000 you’ll get $16.80 a week – that is, no “real” saving. On $120,000, it’s $36 a week.

Meanwhile, me and my mates (and members of parliament), struggling to get by on $200,000 and above, will get a saving of $175 a week, or $25 a day.

Good luck selling that lot, Albo.

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The taxman's sneaky trick that will quietly pick our pocket

I’ve seen some sneaky tax tricks in my time, but nothing that compares with this. It could go down in history as the perfect fiscal crime – except that many people won’t notice that some politician has taken money out of their pocket. Which, of course, is what makes it the perfect crime.

All most people may notice is that the cost of living’s got even worse, but they won’t quite realise why. That’s partly because most of the media won’t be making a song and dance about it.

Why not? Because nothing’s been announced. Because you have to know a fair bit about the tax system to understand what’s happening. Because neither side of politics wants to talk about it. There’s no controversy. And neither side’s spin doctors are keen to confirm to inquiring journalists that the strange story they read in this august organ is right.

Since the trick first became apparent to the experienced eye, in Scott Morrison and Josh Frydenberg’s budget in March last year, just before the election, my colleague Shane Wright and I have been determined to make sure our readers were told.

Wright was at it again on Saturday, and now I’m making sure you got the message. Don’t say we didn’t tell you, even if others have been far less vocal about it.

It’s a complicated story, hard to get your head around and, particularly because it’s about something that isn’t happening now but will happen later, one that’s easily forgotten.

As you see, the move was initiated by the Coalition, but will have its effect under Labor. The opposition may try to blame it on the government, but it’s probably too complicated.

This is a story about the misleadingly named Low and Middle Income Tax Offset, known to tax aficionados as “the LAMIngTOn”. It began life as stage one of the three-stage income tax cuts announced in the budget of May 2018, to take effect over seven years.

The previous government kept changing the amount of the offset – a kind of tax refund – over the years. It started out as “up to” $530 a year, but was increased to $1080 a year just before the 2019 election.

It was to have been absorbed into the second stage of the tax cuts, but it was decided to keep it going. Then, in last year’s pre-election budget, it was decided to increase it by $420 to “up to” $1500 a year. Yippee, we said. Good old Liberals!

By then, people earning up to $37,000 a year got a refund of $675 a year. It then slowly increased to be the full $1500 for those earning between $48,000 and $90,000 a year. Then it started cutting out, reaching zero when income reached $126,000.

This meant more than 10 million taxpayers – almost 70 per cent of the total – got a rebate on top of any other refund they were entitled to.

But here’s the trick. Unlike a normal tax cut, which goes on forever, the lamington was a temporary measure. If it were to be continued for another financial year, a decision had to be made. Morrison and Frydenberg’s last budget contained no such decision.

Why not? Because, in the days leading up to the budget, cabinet decided to increase it, but not to continue it beyond June 2022. Decisions not to do things don’t have to be announced, and this one wasn’t. For obvious reasons.

You really had to be in the know to realise that this constituted a decision to increase the tax 10 million people would pay in 2022-23, by up to $1500 a throw.

Wright and I were at pains to point this out in our coverage of the budget. We thought that, especially with an election imminent, people might find it pretty interesting. But, with neither side of politics wanting to talk about it, few people took much notice. Perhaps they didn’t believe us.

The other strange thing about the lamington is that, whereas a normal tax cut flows through immediately to increase your fortnightly take-home pay, you don’t get a tax cut delivered in the form of a tax offset until after the relevant financial year has ended and you’ve submitted your tax return. The taxman just adds it to any other refund you’re entitled to.

This means the last-ever lamington, for 2021-22, was served up between July and October last year.

It also means that the only way many lamington eaters will get a hint that they paid a lot more tax in the year to June 2023 is when, some time after July, they notice that their refund cheque is a lot smaller than last year’s and wonder why.

Note, I don’t disagree with the two-party cartel’s decision to be rid of the lamington. It was a stupid way to cut tax, born of creative accounting. But when they tacitly collude to conceal what they’ve done, it’s supposed to be the media’s job to point it out. We’ve done our bit.

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Who knew? The price of better government is higher taxes

Have you noticed? Since the change of government, the politicians have become a lot franker about the budgetary facts of life. And now the Parliamentary Budget Office has spelt it out: it’s likely that taxes will just keep rising over the next 10 years.

The great temptation for politicians of all colours is to make sure we don’t join the budgetary dots. On one hand, they’re going to improve childcare and health and education, do a better job on aged care and various other things. On the other, they’ll cut taxes.

In short, they’ve discovered a way to make two and two add to three.

The attraction of that relatively new institution, the Parliamentary Budget Office, is that it reports to the Parliament, meaning it’s independent of the elected government. Each year, sometime after the government has produced its budget, the office takes the decisions and figurings and examines whether they are sustainable over the “medium term” – an econocrats’ term for the next 10 years.

They do this by accepting the government’s present policies and mechanically projecting them forward for a further six years beyond the budget’s published figures for the budget year and the following three financial years of “forward estimates”.

Note that these mechanical projections are just projections – just arithmetic. They’re not forecasts of what will happen. No one but God knows what will happen to the economy over the next year, let alone the next 10.

No one putting together the Morrison government’s pre-election budget of April 2019 – the one saying the budget would soon be “back in black” – foresaw that the arrival of a pandemic 11 months later would knock it out of the ballpark, for instance.

Projections don’t attempt to forecast what will happen. Rather, they move the budget figures forward based on plausible assumptions about what the key economic variables – population growth, inflation, for instance – may average over the projection period.

So, projections are not what will happen, but what might happen if the government left its present policies unchanged for 10 years. They give us an idea of what changes in policy are likely to be needed.

Media reporting of the budget office’s latest medium-term projections focused on its finding that, if there are no further tax cuts beyond the stage three cuts legislated for July 2024, the government’s collections of personal income tax may have risen 76 per cent by 2032-33.

The average rate of income tax paid by all taxpayers is projected to reach 25.5 cents in the dollar before the stage three tax cut drops it to 24.1 cents. But then it could have risen to 26.4 cents by 2032-33 – which would be an all-time high.

Why? Bracket creep. Income is taxed in slices, with the slices taxed at progressively higher rates. So, as income rises over time, a higher proportion of it is taxed at higher rates, thus pushing up the average rate of tax on all the slices.

Like the sound of that? No. Which is why the media gave it so much prominence. But there’s much more to be understood about that prospect before you start writing angry letters to your MP.

The first is that, according to the projections, even with such unrestrained growth in income tax collections, the rise in total government revenue wouldn’t be sufficient to stop the budget deficit growing a bit, year after year.

Why not? Because of the strong projected growth in government spending. That’s the first thing to register: the reason tax collections are likely to rise so strongly is that government spending is expected to rise so strongly.

Why? Because that’s what we want. The pollies know we want more and better government services – which is why no election passes without both sides promising to increase spending on this bauble and that.

What neither side ever does in an election campaign is present the bill: “we’re happy to spend more on your favourite causes but, naturally, you’ll have to pay more tax to cover it”. Indeed, they often rustle up a small tax cut to give you the opposite impression: that taxes can go down while spending goes up.

The budget office’s projections suggest that total government spending will rise from 26.2 per cent of gross domestic product in the present financial year to 27.3 per cent in 2032-33. This may not seem much, but it’s huge.

Nominal GDP – the dollar value of the nation’s total production of goods and services, and hence, the nation’s income – grows each year in line with population growth, inflation and any real increase in our average standard of living. So, for government spending to rise relative to GDP, it must be growing faster even than the economy is growing.

Briefly, the spending growth is explained by continuing strong growth in spending on the National Disability Insurance Scheme, the growing interest bill on the government’s debt, and the rising cost of aged care.

This being so, there seems little doubt we’ll be paying a bit more tax – a higher proportion of our income – most years over the coming 10, and probably long after that.

But that’s not to say things will pan out in the way described by the budget office and as trumpeted by the media. For a start, it’s unlikely any government would go for six years without a tax cut.

It’s true that governments of both colours rely heavily on bracket creep – aka “the secret tax of inflation” – to square the circles they describe during election campaigns; to ensure two and two still add up to four.

But they’re not so stupid as never to show themselves going through the motions of awarding a modest tax cut every so often – confident in the knowledge that continuing bracket creep will claw it back soon enough.

The next point is that the overall average tax rates the budget office quotes are potentially misleading. Every individual taxpayer has their own average rate of tax, with high income-earners having a much higher average than people with low incomes.

But when the budget office works out the average for all taxpayers – the average of all the averages, so to speak – you get a number that accurately described the position of surprisingly few people. It’s like the joke about the statistician who, with his head in the oven and his feet in the fridge, said that, on average, he was perfectly comfortable.

There are plenty of things a government could do to reduce the tax concessions for high income-earners (like me) and to slant any tax cuts in favour of people in the bottom half, which would allow it to raise much the same revenue as the budget office envisages without raising the average tax rate paid by the average (that is, the median) individual taxpayer by nearly as much as the budget office’s figures suggest.

Fearless prediction: just such thinking will be what leads the Albanese government to make a start next year by rejigging the size and shape of the stage three tax cuts.

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Join the dots: your taxes are heading up, not down

Treasurer Jim Chalmers’ “solid and sensible” budget is not so much good or bad as incomplete. It hints at “hard decisions” to be made but doesn’t make them. It tells us times are tough and getting tougher – which we already knew. What we don’t know is what the government plans to do about it. We were told some things, but one big gap remains.

Chalmers said the budget’s priority was to provide cost-of-living relief. No, not directly – its true focus is on reducing the budget deficit so that the Reserve Bank won’t have to raise interest rates as much to control inflation.

But the big fall in this year’s deficit – made possible by the greater tax revenue from higher export prices – isn’t expected to stop the deficit rising the following year.

And although the budget does include measures that will cut costs for some families – for childcare and prescriptions – these are election promises, not newly announced moves.

The budget’s biggest bad news is that the cost-of-living squeeze is now expected to continue for another two years, with price rises continuing to outpace wage rises. And even when the squeeze stops, real (inflation-adjusted) wages will be a lot lower than they were before the pandemic.

Strangely, the budget’s best news is that the economy’s rate of growth is forecast to slow to just 1.5 per cent in the year to June 2024.

What sounds bad is good when you remember the growing likelihood of a global recession. While most rich economies will go backwards, we should only slow down. Our rate of unemployment is predicted to rise just a bit from its near 50-year low.

World recessions mean we earn less from our exports. They don’t necessarily drag us into recession, as our earlier run of almost 30 years without a recession demonstrates.

Still, a forecast is only a forecast, not a guarantee. The main factor determining if we too end up with negative growth will be whether, in its efforts slow the rate of inflation, the Reserve Bank accidentally raises interest rates more than needed.

This is the BNPL budget – buy now, pay later. Labor bought an easy return to government by promising lots more spending on better government services, while also promising not to increase any taxes – apart from on wicked multinationals – and not to interfere with the already legislated stage three income tax cuts, due in July 2024.

This budget is Labor’s payment for the election it bought. But, as with BNPL schemes, payment comes in four instalments. This is just the first of the four budgets the government expects to deliver before the next election.

Chalmers says it’s “a beginning of the long task of budget repair, not the final destination”.

True. Another way to put it is that this is only the start of his Dance of the Four Veils. In the end, all will be revealed. But right now, we’ve been shown little.

Chalmers keeps saying he wants to “start a conversation” about what services we want government to provide, and how we should pay for them.

A few weeks ago, he got the conversation going by entertaining whether, in the light of all that’s transpired, the stage three tax cuts are still appropriate.

But his boss Anthony Albanese quickly closed the conversation down. No decision had been made to change the cuts, he said firmly.

Since the cuts aren’t due for 20 months, there’s no need for any decision to be announced in this budget, or in next May’s budget. Indeed, any decision could be held off until the third veil is removed in May 2024.

Albanese is waiting and manoeuvring until time and circumstance have convinced us it would be better for the promise to be broken. He’d like people marching the streets with banners demanding the tax cut be dropped.

Those hugely expensive and unfair tax cuts would be so counterproductive to all the problems Chalmers is grappling with, I don’t doubt that at a propitious time, a decision to reduce them will be unveiled.

This will set the stage for the final unveiling of the government’s plan to increase taxes after the next election.

Why am I so sure? Because everything the government is doing and saying points to the need for taxes to go up, not down.

Finance Minister Katy Gallagher has slashed away at the Morrison government’s spending on “rorts and waste”, to make room for Labor’s spending promises – not all of which escape a similar label.

But she has also exposed the way her predecessors were holding back spending on aged care, health, education and much else. Add the National Disability Insurance Scheme, defence, and the interest bill, and you see that strong spending growth in coming years will be unavoidable.

Except for the government’s reticence on tax issues, Chalmers is justified in his repeated claim that this is a “responsible” budget. His more debatable claim is that the budget’s first priority was to provide cost-of-living relief.

That claim came with a heavy qualification: that relief had to be “responsible, not reckless … without adding to inflation”. Yes, the adults are back in charge of the budget.

But the government reticence on tax issues is a big exception to its record on responsible budgeting. The huge increases in gas and electricity prices – mostly collateral damage from Russia’s war on Ukraine – that will do most to continue the cost-of-living squeeze on families this year and next are counterbalanced by the massively increased profits of our exporters of fossil fuel.

Labor’s irresponsible election promise to bind its hands on tax changes has stopped it giving hard-pressed households the consolation of seeing most of those windfall profits taxed, and so returned to other taxpayers for use on more deserving causes.

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Welcome to the job, Treasurer. Rather you than me

Very occasionally, some poor misguided letter-writer suggests to my boss that I’d make a better treasurer than the incumbent. I’m flattered, of course, but it’s never been a job I’ve lusted after. Nor do I delude myself I’d be much good at it. And that goes double for the present incumbent, Jim Chalmers.

I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes (especially not with people like that grumpy old bugger Gittins offering a critique of my every move).

When, within days of taking up the job, Chalmers declared the budget situation was “dire”, people thought he was just softening us up. But I suspect it had finally dawned on him (with a little help from his new treasury advisers) just what an unhygienic sandwich he’d promised to eat: the more so because he’d played his own part in making such a meal of it.

Chalmers’ problem comes in two parts. First, he inherited an almighty mess from Scott Morrison and Josh Frydenberg. They hadn’t exactly tidied the place up before leaving.

Justifiably, they’d racked up huge additional government debt to tide us through the worst of the pandemic, and now the economy was growing strongly. But they were still looking at a decade or more of budget deficits continuing to increase the debt.

It was a problem they’d think about when and if they were re-elected. Meanwhile, nothing mattered more that avoiding doing anything that could cost them votes.

All this we knew before the election. What was less obvious were the many stopgap measures they’d used to hold back the growth in government spending, building up a dam that would inevitably burst.

The stopgaps included making oldies wait many months for a homecare package, making people wait months for a visa, keeping the unemployed below the poverty line and thinking of excuses to suspend their payments.

And that’s before you get to the various, hugely expensive problems with the National Disability Insurance Scheme – problems that can’t be solved by telling the disabled to like it or lump it.

The Morrison government’s projections of continuing budget deficits assume those dams will never overflow. Much of the deficit is explained by the continuing cost of the Morrison government’s already legislated stage-three tax cut in July 2024, which the Parliamentary Budget Office now estimates will have added almost a quarter of a trillion dollars to our deficit and debt by 2032-33.

The second element of Chalmers’ budget problem is that, as part of its small-target strategy for finally winning an election, Labor promised never to do anything anyone anywhere would ever dislike.

When it came to the budget, while banging on about our trillion-dollar debt, they painted themselves into a corner by promising not to do what they’d need to do to stop adding to it. Not to rescind the stage-three tax cut, nor do anything else to increase taxes apart from a tax on multinational companies. (Talk about pie in the sky: make the wicked foreigners pay their fair whack and all our problems are solved without any pain.)

In theory, eliminating the budget deficit is easy. Just slash government spending to fit. All you’d have to do is, say, suspend indexation of the age pension, or cut grants to the states’ public hospitals and schools (while taking care not to touch private hospitals and schools).

In practice, making cuts sufficient to fill the gap is politically impossible. It’s true the government is busy reviewing all their predecessor’s spending, looking for waste and extravagance. But all that’s likely to achieve is to make room for their own new spending promises.

As several former top econocrats have told me, what’s needed to eliminate the deficit is to increase tax collections by about 4 per cent of gross domestic product – about $90 billion a year. See what I mean about Labor boxing itself in?

One thing that wasn’t clear before the election was the full extent of our problem with inflation, even though the Reserve Bank did increase interest rates a fraction during the campaign.

It’s made the need to reduce the budget deficit more pressing because the more the government reduces its own stimulus of the economy, the less the Reserve has to increase interest rates to get inflation down.

And the less rates rise, the less the risk that – as has happened so often in the past – the Reserve’s efforts to reduce inflation send us into recession. One of the side-effects of recession would be to increase deficit and debt greatly.

After his “dire” remark, I expected to see Chalmers edging quietly towards a door marked Sorry About That, and preparing a Keynes-like speech about how “when the facts change, I change my promises”.

But so far, he seems still to be painting himself into the corner. Apparently, keeping promises, no matter how ill-judged and overtaken by events, is more important to Labor than managing the economy well or even avoiding becoming a one-term government.

I’d never seen Chalmers and his boss as martyrs to the cause of Unbroken Promises.

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What we weren't told before the election: taxes to rise, not fall

The rule for Treasury bosses is that, as public servants, any frank and fearless advice they have about the state of the federal budget must be given only to their political masters, and only in private.

But last week the present secretary to the Treasury, Dr Steven Kennedy, used a speech to economists to deliver a particularly frank assessment of the Labor government’s budgetary inheritance.

We can be sure his remarks came as no surprise to his boss, Dr Jim Chalmers, who would have been happy to have his help to disabuse us of any delusions lingering from an election campaign which, as always, was fought in a confected fantasy-land of increased spending on bigger and better government services and lower taxes.

Surprise, surprise, the post-election truth is very different. The budget released just before the campaign began foresaw a budget deficit of a huge $80 billion in the financial year just ending, with only a trivial decline in the coming year and continuing deficits for at least another decade.

Neither side admitted to any problem with this prospect during the campaign, but Kennedy’s first bit of frankness about such a leisurely approach was to observe that “a more prudent course” would be for the budget deficit to be eliminated and turned to a surplus. (By the standards of bureaucratic reticence, this was like saying, “You guys have got to be joking”.)

Eliminating the deficit would mean adding no more to our trillion-dollar debt. Running budget surpluses would actually reduce the debt, thus leaving us less exposed should there be a threatening turn in the economy’s fortunes.

The two obvious ways of improving the budget balance are to cut government spending or to increase taxes. Some people love making speeches about the need to absolutely slash government spending, but they usually mean spending that benefits other people, not themselves.

The sad truth is that “waste and extravagance” is in the eye of the beholder. There’s always some powerful interest group on the receiving end of government spending – medical specialists, say, or the nation’s chemists – and they don’t take kindly to any attempt to slash their incomes.

The last time a serious attempt was made to cut government spending – by Tony Abbott in his first budget, in 2014 – the public outcry was so great that the Coalition beat a hasty retreat, and never tried it again.

Instead, it limited its parsimony to quietly restraining money going to the politically weak – the jobless, the public service, overseas aid – but this didn’t make a huge difference to the more than $600 billion the government spends each year.

Kennedy’s next frank observation was that, even excluding the many billions in spending related to temporarily supporting the economy during the lockdowns, government spending as a proportion of the nation’s income is expected to average 26.4 per cent over the coming decade, compared with 24.8 per cent in the decades before the pandemic.

In other words, government spending is likely to grow much faster than the economy grows, to the tune of about $36 billion a year in today’s dollars.

The new government is undertaking a line-by-line audit of all the Coalition’s “rorts, waste and mismanagement”. But, to be realistic, it’s unlikely to find much more in savings than it needs to cover its own new spending promises.

Kennedy said that most of this additional spending is driven by money going to the National Disability Insurance Scheme (by far the biggest), aged care, defence, health and infrastructure. “Further pressures exist in all these areas,” he said.

To that you can add underfunding by the Coalition in tertiary education and healthcare, plus a massive capability gap over the next 20 years or more which can only be fixed by an immediate increase in spending on defence, diplomacy and foreign aid.

Which leaves us with taxes. Higher taxes. Scott Morrison’s promise to guarantee the delivery of essential services while reducing taxes was delusional – a delusion many of us were happy to swallow.

The simple, obvious truth is that if we want more services without loss of quality, we’ll have to pay higher taxes.

Kennedy warned that the expected (but, in his view, inadequate) improvement in the budget balance over the coming decade will rely largely on higher income tax collections. “Inflation and real wages growth will result in higher average personal tax rates.”

This is a Treasury secretary’s way of saying “the plan is to let bracket creep rip”. And unless other taxes are increased, there’s “little prospect” of giving wage earners any relief via tax cuts.

“This would see average personal tax rates increase towards record levels,” he said, meaning more of the total tax burden would fall on wage earners.

The election saw both sides promising not to introduce new taxes or increase the rates of existing taxes (apart from, in Labor’s case, promising to extract more tax from multinationals).

But neither side made any promise not to let inflation push people into higher tax brackets. One way or another, we’ll be paying higher taxes.

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Huge public debt isn’t the worry, it’s continuing budget deficits

There’s an easy way to tell how much someone understands economics: those at panic stations about the huge level of our government debt just don’t get it. But that’s not to say we don’t have a problem with the budget deficit.

Australia’s public debt isn’t high by international standards. It doesn’t have to be repaid by us, our children or anyone else. Since budget surpluses – which do reduce debt – have always been the exception rather than the rule, government debt is invariably “rolled over” (when bonds become due for redemption, they’re simply replaced with new ones).

The time-honoured way governments get on top of their debts is simply to outgrow them. So Treasurer Josh Frydenberg’s plan to reduce the relative importance of the debt by striving for strong economic growth is neither new nor radical.

If the debt panickers took more notice of what’s actually happening, they’d see that this approach is already bearing fruit. The remarkable strength of the economy’s rebound from the coronacession – much of which is owed to the success of the much-criticised JobKeeper scheme – is helping in two ways.

First, it’s causing the budget deficit to fall much quicker than expected, thus reducing the amount we’re adding to the debt in dollar terms. Second, the faster growth in the economy is slowing the growth of the debt in relative terms – that is, relative to the size of the economy that services the debt.

Most of the unexpected improvement in the budget balance has been allowed to stand, with only a small proportion of it used for further stimulus. That’s particularly true of last week’s budget, notwithstanding its blatant vote-buying.

The media have given us an exaggerated impression of the cost of those measures (particularly when you take account of the decision to discontinue the $8 billion-a-year low and middle income tax offset, which most of them failed to notice because there was no press release).

So the biggest burden present and future generations bear from the debt is the interest bill on it. But with interest rates at an unprecedented low, there’s never been a better time to borrow. And though it’s true long-term rates have started rising, they’ll still be unusually low for at least the rest of this decade.

What’s more, the average interest rate payable on the debt rises even more slowly because the higher rate applies only to the small part of the debt that’s being newly borrowed or reborrowed each year.

The budget’s gross interest payments are projected to stay below 1 per cent of gross domestic product until at least 2026. Which, as the independent economist Saul Eslake reminds us, means they’ll stay far lower than they were at any time in the 30 years to 2000. Frightening, eh.

Yet another point to remember is that the Reserve Bank’s resort to “quantitative easing” (buying second-hand bonds with created money) meant that, in effect, more than all the stimulus spending of the past two years was borrowed not from the public, but from another part of government, the central bank. It’s just a book entry.

But though there’s no reason to worry about either the level of the public debt or the interest bill on it, that’s not to say we can go on running budget deficits for another decade at least – which is what the budget papers project will happen “on unchanged policies”.

We had good reason to borrow heavily to protect ourselves from the global financial crisis and the Great Recession of 2008-09, and good reason to borrow heavily to save life and limb during the pandemic.

(The reason the debt continued growing between the two crises, was partly because we kept cutting income tax despite our continuing deficits, but also because economic growth was unusually weak.)

But what we shouldn’t be doing is continuing to run budget deficits after the effect of the temporary stimulus measures has ended. That is, we shouldn’t be running a “structural” deficit because we haven’t been raising enough tax revenue to cover the ordinary (but growing) business of government.

Some economists estimate the structural deficit is roughly $40 billion a year. Treasury’s projections show it falling steadily as a proportion of gross domestic product over the 10 years to 2032-33, but that’s owing to continued growth in the economy plus the no-policy-change assumption that the big tax cut in 2024-25 will be followed by eight years of bracket creep without further tax cuts.

One thing we should have learnt by now is to expect further unexpected major shocks to the economy that require further heavy borrowing. It would be imprudent to add to our debt, and use up borrowing capacity, merely because we didn’t feel like paying our way during the intervals between crises.

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