Simplifying the whole world

People, goods and money move about the world with unparalleled ease these days, we are told. Debate rages about whether this so-called globalisation is a good or a bad thing, but basically it is accepted that a more integrated global economy, freer flows of capital, longer supply chains, lots of migration, and growing trade between nations are the facts on the ground.

Being a fan of counter-intuition therefore, I read with some delight this book review from The Economist, for a book that argues that the reality is rather different.

So this is a call to the world to sort it out. In particular, I want the world to sort out and simplify its approach to immigration. I am deeply sceptical about the value of passports in general (but I will save that methodical rant for another day). But even if we keep passports, we can do a lot to make it easier for people to work in different countries, with obvious benefits both to the workers and to the citizens of the places they will go.

A rose by any other name

It is obviously totally appropriate that the citizens of each country determine who else they want to let in, since they have to share their country with the newcomers. But it does strike me as somewhat wasteful that every nation determines their own unique immigration rules when basically they all want the same thing, at least in the case of skilled workers: the right number of people of the highest quality they can attract. And when I say quality, I mean people who can fill gaps in the domestic workforce, or bring new skills, and who will not make lots of claims on any public services – like the education, healthcare, welfare or correctional systems.

Since New Zealand and its comparable nations basically want the same thing, it is not surprising that the basic approach to skilled worker immigration is the same. Note that I am saying nothing at all here about family migration, nor about emigration, nor about business or investor migration. Below is a very quick summary of the systems for immigration of skilled workers to New Zealand, Australia, the UK and the United States. I have not checked, but I would be surprised if the approach in Canada, or many countries of Europe were markedly different.

Country Arrangements

New Zealand Either highly-skilled (qualified, experienced in work, young, English-speaking) or with skills in particular occupations or fields, or a job offer
Australia Either skilled migrant sponsored by an employer or with skills in particular occupations
UK Either skilled migrant sponsored by an employer or exceptionally talented in particular fields
US Either skilled migrant with job offer or person with advanced qualifications and experience

As you can see, all of these nations let you in for a period to work if you are either exceptionally skilled in particular fields, or if you are highly skilled and have a job offer.

Workers of the world, unite

So far so good. But the problem from a migrant’s point of view is complying with the details of all of the rules, and the complexities, delays and costs of the process of proving eligibility for any of these nations. The requirements are all subtlely different, the documents required are often hard to get and expensive, and the processes themselves can take ages, and require all sorts of hoops to be jumped through. And governments are, of course, not afraid to charge immigrants for the costs involved in checking whether all the is have been dotted and ts crossed.

We can do better. I propose an addition to the existing schemes, a multi-national category of skilled migrant. It would work like this: If a person was young, highly skilled, experienced, and fluent in English, then s/he could apply for a three-year work permit in any participating country, and any other country that signed up to the scheme would also accept that person as a worker without further qualification, administration or hassle.

The benefits are pretty obvious. The people in each country gets access to skilled, experienced people, but they don’t have to go through the costly work of testing every single person, because anyone in this category will already have been tested in another participating country. From the migrant’s point of view, they qualify just once and can work in multiple nations. Everyone saves a lot of time, money and administrative hassle.

Let’s get on with it

Implementation would require that every nation that wanted to participate create a new immigration category with identical basic requirements, and adopt a rule that proof that the requirements had been met in another member country would suffice as proof for their own regime. That won’t take long.

An intermediate step would be for just these five countries to change their eligibility rules for their existing skilled immigration category to make it clear that if a person has approval to work as a skilled migrant in one of the other five countries, s/he can come work in theirs.

I am not entirely naive, sadly. I realise that this sounds too good to be true, and too simple to be easy. And that the history of nations is often the history of bloody-minded, short-sighted parochialism, especially when it comes to the restraints on the movement of people. I am not suggesting a huge increase in immigration – the caps that operate in most of the above nations would continue to apply. Nor am I suggesting the removal of professional rules that restrict movements of particular types of skilled workers, like lawyers, doctors or accountants (although I think the world would be a better place if those rules were internationalised).

All I am proposing is a way to simplify lives for skilled migrants, with benefits for the countries who welcome them in. New Zealand and Australia could kick things off for the Western world by putting a mutual recognition scheme in place. If you got approved to work in New Zealand as a skilled migrant, then you could go to Australia to work and vice versa.

Sounds easy to me.

What you can count on

It was not an auspicious start. The hangover was continuing to build, an unwelcome guest left over from Wednesday night’s ritual end-of-year poisoning. I still had an enormous pile of stuff to fit in the car for the holiday road-trip, leaving infeasibly little room for provisions, and I realised that I had forgotten some key items in any case, despite the veritable mountain of non-key things.

Then the car stalled outside the supermarket and clicked ominously rather than giving the more reassuring starting noise when the key was turned. One didn’t need to be a lip-reader to understand the frustration of the woman in the car behind.

What is this all about

My car is a red 1990 Lada Niva, a boxy, two-door, four-wheel drive beloved of off-road enthusiasts. They were more common in New Zealand in the 1980s and 90s – I am told the Dairy Board once offered them to farmers as part-payment for milk that had been provided to Russia, which was not able to make payment using more traditional means. These days, however, they are lamentably rare, the victims of vicious rust, and design and manufacturing that reflects 1960s Soviet standards rather than those of a more modern and capable age.

This car would never attract the sobriquet “reliable”. “Hardy” or “rugged”, for sure. “A good vehicle for do-it-yourselfers”, absolutely. A very cheap and uniquely stylish ride it is as well. And it sports a tag that proudly says ”Made in the USSR”, something that can not often be claimed these days. But it is certainly not reliable.

Its simple dashboard has few of the gauges that trouble or inform modern drivers. It does feature both a fuel gauge and fuel light, warning of near-term problems if fuel cannot be found, and an engine oil pressure light, warning of a very near-term troubles if oil cannot be discovered. Befitting their different levels of priority, they are different colours – red for oil disaster pending, yellow for fuel stop required soon.

When I turn right, the fuel needle slides to the left and the yellow warning light comes on. Happily, this is easily repaired by turning left. The speedometer bounces around erratically and noisily, leaving a driver to interpolate the actual speed as the mid-point between the low and high readings in any given second: the only time it is still is when the car is stopped, when the speedo reads a constant 12 kmph.

The electrics are deeply unpredictable. The horn sometimes beeps at the merest touch of the panel on the middle of the steering wheel, but most of the time it cannot be convinced to sound at all except by sustained pressure on the middle of the panel, rendering it useless for all practical purposes. In any case, the noise the horn makes is so meek that it would likely be mistaken by other drivers for a passing duck, perhaps calling to its comrades on the wing.

The purpose of the switches sported proudly by both internal lights is unclear to me, since the lights generally stay off regardless of their position. But sometimes the lamps do find a way to secure some electrons through the maze of dirty, coloured wires that snake from the battery through the internals of the car, and light up when the door is open or sometimes when it is not. Sadly, even on these occasions, the light they give off is insufficient for any practical purpose. But I appreciate the effort they make all the same.

It is a car that one needs to listen to: it trys to tell me how it is getting on. I now identify a series of normal noises (rhythmic thrum at high speeds (i.e., over 90kmph), rattle from accelerator between two and three thousand rpms, open-throated roar from the exhaust at precisely two and a half thousand, rattling from a loose screw in the left-hand door). New noises might indicate problems. I have been listening for some thousands of kilometres to the transmission, trying to decide if there is an unusual noise, but so far, if there is, it is inaudible compared with the noise from the engine and the gearbox. I dream of installing new, thicker heat-resistant padding around the central console and in the footwells to enable easier conversation while in transit.

The stereo gives no impression of going at all, but sometimes when the car is turned off, it lets out a short melody, a tiny burst of electronica in my day, presumably designed to reassure me that the stereo is actually operational. I consider this delusional at best, and deceptive at worst since at no other time does the stereo make a sound.

A boat for the people

Lada is, as is well known, a brand of the Russian car company Avtovaz. Ladas are churned out by the millions by 110 thousand employees at a factory in a town called Togliatti – a city of some 720,000 souls on the eastern side of the Volga in southern European Russia.

(Delightfully for those who have a soft spot for the Communist International, Togliatti was called Stavropol until 1964 when it was renamed in honour of Palmiro Togliatti, the longest-serving secretary of the Italian Communist Party. Quite an honour, I suspect.)

The Lada is a conversation point for those who see it, and so I have been told many times that Lada is basically a rebadged Fiat. The Avotvaz company was established by arrangement with Fiat in the late 1960s. Russian engineers borrowed (and improved) the design of many Fiats to make their Ladas, but in fact the marvelous Lada Niva whose company I currently enjoy was the first model that Avtovaz’s engineers designed on their own. I understand that they continue to make the Niva and it continues to be popular in Russia and in other places where owning a hard-wearing, cheap automobile is de rigeur.

While I enjoy its present, I fear for the future of this automobile. For I think Avtovaz will face ongoing difficulties with the perception and reality of unreliability. I only have to mention that I own a Lada for the eye-rolling and jokes about its legendary crapness to start. And it isn’t clear that this thorough-going badge of low quality will be quickly or ever resolved. I do wonder what brand value was attached to the billion dollar purchase of 25% of Avtovaz in 2008 by the same folks who own Renault.

Expecting reliability

All of which makes me muse about reliability, particularly when driving in my car.

The etymology of the word suggests that the word “rely” in the sense of depend upon is an additional meaning added in the sixteenth century to a word that originally meant “to fasten” or “to attach” from the Latin word religare (“to bind” – like the word ligament).

To say something is reliable means that one is able to rely on it, by which we mean it is reasonable to expect that the something will perform its function in a particular way. Reliability does not say anything necessarily about the quality of the performance: I can say that my starter motor can be relied upon to fail regularly. So reliability is fundamentally about predictability and, as I understand it, this is the engineering usage of the term.

But often in normal speech, “reliability” means both predictability and proper performance. If my starter motor is reliable, that means that I can confidently predict that my car will start when I turn the key. Reliability is therefore the opposite of uncertainty. Reliable things do what they say on the tin. And they reduce uncertainty and vanquish unpredictability in the world. Thus my definition of reliable in this context is “consistent high performance”.

Coming at the definition from the other end, having an unreliable car means that one needs to be able to rely on other things to get to where one is going. One must have systems in place for when the unreliable car performs as expected and fails to work. I can tell you from personal experience that there is no better value for money than that offered unreliable car drivers by an AA membership. I can also tell you that one must have an understanding mechanic, one should keep the number of a friendly tow-truck operator in one’s phone, and one should always travel with flexible plans – an unreliable car and a committment to timeliness are not good bedfellows.

Complexities

What I find most amazing about reliability is none of this. It is that, as a society, we consider it entirely reasonable to expect consistent high performance from all the myriad complex machines that we use every day. Our society rests on machines and systems that work so well there is real surprise and geniune consternation and surprise when they fail.

Think about a random selection of some of the things we rely on each day. Vaguely in order of reliability from most reliable to least, a short version of such a list might include:

  • Airplanes
  • Electricity supply
  • Toasters
  • Cars (except mine)
  • The software on a computer

Generally there is no reason to question or even to think about the performance of these everyday items. I need know nothing about how the airline ensures my airplane can fly, nor how my car, telephone, television, electrical sockets, computer, toaster or rice cooker operate. The objects of everyday life are created by others, cheap, safe, convenient and simple to use. If one does not work as expected (a bump in the flight, a crash of the operating system) I am justified in being concerned and in complaint, despite the fact that these wondrous inventions are not far removed from magic in their reliabile conquering of complexity and difficulty in every day life.

Let me expand. My car, old and crap though it is in many ways, is an amalgam of multiple complex systems, each of which is amazing in its own way. It has a battery, connected to a (troublesome) starter motor, which kicks off an engine, that draws in petrol from the gas tank mixed with air in the carburettor, and then generates numerous small controlled explosions – several thousand every minute – that generate both energy to turn a crankshaft, which goes through the gearbox and transfer case to make the wheels turn, and waste gases that go through the exhaust system and out the back of the car. As well, it has brakes (both for foot and hand) that slow things down, suspenson on every wheel to make for a more comfortable ride, a water and oil cooling system to keep the engine lubricated and at an appropriate temperature, and an enormous number of electrical systems (including the heater, headlights, cigarette lighter, horn, indicators, hazard lights, and windscreen wipers front and back) to make operations safer, better or more comfortable. The seats lift up to let people into the back, and they can be adjusted back and forward. The windows wind down and up. The boot opens for storage. Under the hood it carries a full set of tools and a spare tyre, in the event that some simple problem can be fixed by the roadside.

Within each of these systems there is also remarkable complexity. The starter motor alone has 48 numbered components on the coloured breakout diagrams I have that make the Lada seem both beautiful and mysterious on the inside. Here they are: Armature shaft, starter motor cover bush, pinion stop collar, driving pinion/clutch inner ring assembly, thrust half-ring, overrun clutch roller, overrun clutch casing, operating lever pivot pin, plug, relay armature drive link, operating lever, drive-end cover, relay armature return spring, starter motor relay armature, front relay flange, relay holding winding, relay plunging winding, armature core bar, relay core, core flange, contact disc, relay cover, relay contact bolts, commutator end cover, positive brush holder, starter motor cover bush, end float shim, lock washer, clamp bolt, casing, stator winding series coils pinout, commutator, stator winding series coil, stator pole, starter motor housing, armature core, limiter plate, drive ring, hub/clutch outer ring, overrun clutch hub liner, ignition switch, alternator, battery, starter motor, starter relay, guide bar, plunger, flywheel.

The windscreen wiper – a humble system, one might thing – has 51 numbered components.

Reasonableness

I know that my car is a complex beast, and that the Avtovaz motor company is not famous for reliability. I understand that my car is old, and that it has multiple systems that depend on each other. I have experienced many times that the failure of something very small – like the solenoid in the starter motor – will lead to the failure of the whole. I can see that even the windscreen wiper, simple in theory, is bewilderingly complicated in practice. Asked to build one myself, I would be entirely at a loss. The complex component in my even old and crap car is the result of years of engineering development, refining the questions of how to make a perfect windscreen wiper down to a very fine art.

And despite all this knowledge, I am always frustrated and annoyed when my car breaks down, when my phone won’t get my email, or when my iPod fails to sync properly. (It seems that the less control I have over something, the more annoyed I get when it does not meet my expectations for reliablity: I blame myself if my toast is burned). But it also seems to me, when I am in a more contemplative frame of mind, that society might just expect too much.

So what is my point? I guess this is a plea for you to think just a little more about the systems you rely on, to marvel a little more at the wondrousness of the things you take for granted everyday, and to realise that even the most basic of daily simplicities relies on a remarkable web of sophisticated development that spans the efforts of generations of toiling engineers who just want to make your life more predictable.

I expect nothing less from you.

Getting rid of calories

I have in front of me a fairly typical processed food item, a delicious 200g bar of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut chocolate. On the back of the label, along with the enormous barcode (barcode readers must be myopic – it is by far the biggest item on the back of the package), and lots of purple space, is a whole bunch of information on the nutritional value of this food item.

Wiser heads than mine have obviously determined what this table has to cover, given its similarity across all packaged foods. The table on this chocolate tells me the energy, protein, fat (saturated and total), carbohydrate (sugars and other), and salt content of five squares (a “serving” as far as Cadbury is concerned), and 100g (half the block). It also tells me what proportion of an average adult daily intake a serving of this delicious product would represent. So I know that five squares of this chocolate would give me 6% of my daily energy, and 15% of my daily saturated fat and sugar quota. Powerful stuff.*

One would have be some kind of dietary mathematician to actually make proper use of all this data for all the food that one might consume in an average day or week. I am not sure what expectations those who set up the requirements had of those who eat the chocolate. But they seem to have a very high opinion of eaters’ ability to make sense of the screed of small-printed data they are presented with on food items.

I am particularly interested in the information on energy content. The label tells me that five squares have 528kJ of energy in them. The internet, god bless it, tells me that 528kJ is about 126 calories (which I should actually write with a capital C, apparently), and that as an 85kg male, I would use around 2,400 calories a day without doing any particular exercise, with adult women burning about twenty percent fewer. So I can eat 100 squares of this chocolate (about two and a half blocks) and get all of my energy for a day.

Given the increasing overweightness of the nation, one might postulate that the energy information on these chocolate labels is not being appropriate absorbed or understood. I wonder whether a less complex label might be more useful – one that relates the energy in what you eat to the amount of exercise that you would need to do to burn off the food item you are about to/have just consumed.

For me, the archetypal 85kg man:

  • Doing nothing, as mentioned above, requires about 2,400 calories a day, or 100 calories an hour.
  • Moderate walking (at 5 km/hour) seems to require about 300 calories an hour, according to this very helpful website, or 60 calories per km
  • And jogging or running seems to use a number of calories equal to your weight in kilograms per km, so in my case 85 calories per km. (Although it doesn’t seem to use many more calories than walking, notice that you will be running faster than you are walking, so you will burn more energy overall).

So now we have:

Activity Energy required
Sitting on couch 100 cals/hour
Walking 60 cals/km
Jogging 85 cals/km

And we can change the chocolate label so that instead of expressing the amount of energy you get if you ate a serving (noting that many things, notably corn chips – have ridiculously small serving sizes), it says how much exercise you can do with that serving.

The chocolate label would say:

If you eat 5 squares of this chocolate (126 calories), to burn it off you would need to:

Activity Length
Eat nothing else An hour
Walk Two kms, or
Run One and a half kms

And it would be easy to include the same information for a 100g half block as well. If I ate half the block (~500 calories), I would need to:

Activity Length
Eat nothing else Five hours
Walk Just over eight kms, or
Run Just under six kms

Since the average person walks at about five kms an hour, eight kms would be about an hour and a half walking for half a block of chocolate. And a six km run would be around thirty five minutes of running at a normal ten kms per hour.

More useful, I think, because it is a lot more direct.

PS What I like most about this chocolate label is the sentence that says “Enjoy your favourite treats as part of a balanced lifestyle”. I figure that this was actually intended to say: “do not eat too much chocolate”. But once that was filtered through the food labelling bureaucracy and the subtleties and difficulties were endlessly debated, what comes out is that anodyne phrase. Are we really better off with this euphemism? Does it actually achieve its objective? It seems similar to me to “enjoy responsibly” that is written on alcohol labels, which I suspect means “don’t drink too much”, although it is also not particularly clear.

* The back of the packaging also contains, as usual, a list of ingredients. This reveals the startling (to me) fact that “Fruit and Nut” chocolate is actually literally that – one fruit (sultanas), one nut (almonds). Perhaps “Sultana and Almond chocolate” did not have the same ring.

The perils of travelling the nation

It is no secret that I have no time for Winston Peters. I therefore present a list of all New Zealand electorates in descending order by the proportion of the party vote for New Zealand First. Use it as you wish. Travel guide, highlights reel, warning sign. Over to you.

New Zealand First’s overall share of the vote was 6.59%. So anywhere with a number south of that (Kaikoura and below on the list) appeals. Good on you, people of Epsom. Not so much, people of Tauranga and the Bay of Plenty. How could you?

Electoral District NZF votes Percentage Total votes
Tauranga 5455 14.90 36620
Bay of Plenty 4569 12.63 36177
Coromandel 3813 11.03 34564
Waiariki 2058 10.94 18807
Rotorua 3326 10.55 31517
Tamaki Makaurau 1948 10.45 18648
Northland 3330 10.19 32665
Te Tai Tokerau 1950 9.86 19782
Hauraki-Waikato 1758 9.83 17893
Whangarei 3340 9.68 34512
Whanganui 3035 9.53 31858
Te Tai Tonga 1544 8.76 17629
East Coast 2536 8.53 29743
Papakura 2680 8.48 31621
Taupo 2833 8.39 33747
Ikaroa-Rawhiti 1516 8.30 18262
Otaki 3057 8.12 37633
Waikato 2549 8.10 31467
Te Tai Hauauru 1445 7.94 18188
Wairarapa 2738 7.82 35021
Hamilton West 2475 7.72 32049
Hunua 2626 7.42 35411
Manurewa 1861 7.36 25277
Rangitikei 2305 7.26 31731
Taranaki-King Country 2252 7.26 31038
Dunedin South 2522 7.15 35251
Rodney 2688 6.97 38563
Invercargill 2213 6.84 32355
Te Atatu 2081 6.75 30835
Kaikoura 2236 6.55 34128
Waitakere 2011 6.46 31122
Manukau East 1703 6.32 26960
New Plymouth 2137 6.30 33932
Christchurch East 1801 6.26 28749
Rimutaka 2148 6.26 34333
New Lynn 2081 6.18 33685
Wigram 1948 6.04 32230
Hutt South 1974 6.00 32914
Waimakariri 2131 5.92 36016
Mangere 1466 5.86 25007
Tukituki 1995 5.85 34098
Rangitata 2084 5.80 35931
West Coast-Tasman 1931 5.72 33766
Dunedin North 1706 5.69 29965
Pakuranga 1847 5.67 32595
Palmerston North 1870 5.66 33038
Northcote 1865 5.65 33030
Napier 1893 5.58 33907
Nelson 1913 5.42 35267
Hamilton East 1786 5.37 33249
Waitaki 2010 5.22 38541
Maungakiekie 1753 5.18 33831
Christchurch Central 1391 4.96 28024
East Coast Bays 1657 4.94 33535
Clutha-Southland 1556 4.89 31831
North Shore 1806 4.86 37181
Mana 1667 4.84 34425
Port Hills 1609 4.83 33282
Selwyn 1750 4.75 36851
Mt Roskill 1513 4.68 32330
Helensville 1648 4.60 35809
Mt Albert 1494 4.53 32999
Rongotai 1640 4.45 36879
Botany 1278 4.40 29034
Auckland Central 1403 4.10 34206
Ilam 1350 3.95 34169
Ohariu 1478 3.91 37828
Tamaki 1421 3.76 37782
Wellington Central 1132 2.88 39372
Epsom 959 2.61 36769
Maori Electorate Totals 12219 9.46 129209
General Electorate Totals 135325 6.42 2108255
Combined Totals 147544 6.59 2237464

The source data is on the Electoral Commission website. You can also get my version (sorted and with all the other parties’ votes removed).

Why can’t we all just get along

Incorporating a modest sort-of book review of The Company of Strangers, by Paul Seabright, and The Spirit Level, by Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett.

Hmmm. This has turned out to be longer than expected. A short summary is called for:

  • Trust between citizens in society is crucial to make life pleasurable.
  • Trust in strangers is also crucial for the functioning of the economy – buying things you want depends on trading with strangers to an extent unprecedented in history.
  • Trust is fragile and undermined by substantial differences between citizens, including income inequality. New Zealand has quite a high level of income inequality according to recent OECD figures.
  • If trust is so important, then we want to craft public policy in ways that increase societal trust. Income redistribution is certaintly going to part of this, but there must be more to the picture too. The challenge is that these are complex, long-term, cultural issues and cause and effect are highly murky.

There you go. On with the show.

Trust and be damned

Trust in your fellow citizens is really helpful in an enormous number of ways. If you doubt this, consider all the effort you go to every single day because you can not be sure that someone else won’t burgle your house while you are out, or steal your car, or take your bag or your phone from where you leave it on the table in that cafe you go to. And imagine how much easier life would be with fewer ID checks, security scans, credit checks, locks or keys, and less fraud, theft, or violent crime, let alone less fear. What would it be like if you could really trust your neighbours, let alone those with whom you have more distant social connections?

I treat “trust” as being a firm and justified belief in the reliability, truth and good intentions of a fellow citizen. My hypothesis is that societies where people trust each other more create fewer conflicts between citizens, minimise protective behaviours (like locking doors) that are only necessary because of a lack of trust, and resolve conflicts that are created much more easily and positively. There is less mis-understanding, more helping out your fellow humans, and a higher level of what we might call “societal empathy”, which I think of as the ability to understand, share, and act as if you care about the feelings of someone else with whom you share space in society. As a result of this enhanced low-level (person to person) co-operation, there is less need for higher level (government to person) intervention, and society just becomes a nicer place to be.

I have read a couple of interesting books recently that touch on this issue of societal trust. Both authors argued that trust in society can not be taken for granted, and is undermined by substantial differences between citizens. This makes sense to me. You can’t trust people that you don’t empathise with, and empathy requires having some interaction with other people or some shared experience that makes you feel like you have something in common, and makes you willing to do something to help another person.

Friends with benefits

Paul Seabright’s “The Company of Strangers” tells the remarkable (but mostly unremarked) tale of how much your life depends on getting along with strangers. Mr Seabright thinks that we have reached the point where even the most basic activity relies on a web of international co-operation that functions without anyone being in charge overall. Just think about how you get the food you eat (probably in a supermarket – grown, processed and brought there from all over the world by people you will never meet), the clothes you are wearing (ditto – and even more complex than fresh food because it has a longer shelf-life), and the device you are reading this blog post on (likely built in Asia to a foreign design with components from all over the world, and charged using electricity brought to you through a complex process run entirely by strangers who have no idea who you are, or what you are using their product for).

Given how well this system works most of the time, one could be forgiven for thinking that it is the natural order of things. Mr Seabright says otherwise, reviewing the evolutionary history that has enabled humans, alone amongst all species, to come to trust strangers enough to co-operate on everyday activities to such a extraordinary extent. For most of human history strangers represented danger; they were to be avoided or treated with grave suspicion. Trading between unrelated people was a difficult and unpredictable business, and meetings between strangers could just as easily end in violence as in a mutually satisfactory exchange. But, once we really got the hang of it – which has only been in the last few hundred years – this trust and the trading that has resulted has enabled remarkable improvement in people’s lives all over the world, (as well, of course, as leading to a bunch of other developments of more questionable social value).

The trust system relies on a network of “institutions” – in the economist’s sense of sets of rules, both formal and informal that govern social behaviour – that mean that humans generally treat strangers as honorary friends. We are prepared to deal with strangers in accordance with the rules in the expectation that they too will follow the rules, and the rules or institutions that have been developed are robust, i.e., reliable enough to be taken for granted most of the time, and self-reinforcing to a large extent, i.e., in a variety of ways citizens punish those who betray others’ trust.

The economic system also works because no one really has to think too deeply about the systemic consequences of the actions they take in their little piece of the world. People proceed simply to make decisions that seem to them the right ones within a framework of rules set by the society in which they dwell, and the insititutions as a whole emerge from that behaviour – what we might call “short-sighted co-operation”. To use the example of a trading situation, I can sell you whatever it is that I make without worrying too much about the use you are going to put it to. As the extreme cases, Mr Seabright talks about firms that make cluster munitions, or people who work in nuclear weapons laboratories. In both cases, employees simply do not spend a lot of time considering the negative consequences of their jobs, but like most others, they focus on doing the job they have as best they can. These blinkers are not required in order to make the economic system work, but they do make it a lot more effective because they enable a lot more trading to happen. Consider the time and difficulty of buying a television on hire purchase (where you need to establish your creditworthiness) compared with paying cash for the same item (where you are relying on the credibility of the bank that issues your currency). If one had to be reassured of the good intentions and positive impact of all buying and selling, our market system would work vastly less effectively.

Mr Seabright discusses the limitations of the trust system. It can break down because trusted people turn out to be untrustworthy, or because the short-sighted co-operation leads to society doing things that are unsustainable for society as a whole. He talks about a wide variety of different forms of societal co-operation – cities, environmental issues, the market system itself, firms and families, the growth of knowledge, and also about social and economic exclusion in the form of unemployment, poverty and illness – and discusses why they have emerged, the constraints and difficulties they present, and the prospects for the future.

The book talks in some detail about the system of money and about banking, and discusses in particular lessons that can be drawn from financial crises. There is a particular application to the events of 2007 when, as the real estate market turned sour in the United States, banks quickly became extremely unwilling to lend money to each other, uncertain as to the others’ exposure to what were sure to be substantial property losses. The speed with which the disaster evolved and the extent of the damage it did – leading to both wide-ranging (and expensive) intervention by the US Federal government in the financial markets, and enormous financial losses for shareholders in affected banks – just emphasises how amazing it is that we put so much faith in the financial system as a normal part of our everyday lives. If my experience is typical, we do not really think at all about the risks we are taking in depositing our money in a bank, or borrowing someone else’s money via a bank to buy something that we want without having to save what it costs, like a house.

In the last section of the book, Mr Seabright discusses the development of collective action that societies take to respond to some of the perceived short-comings of the market system, both within their own borders, and in co-operation with other nations. And in the last twenty pages or so, he discusses how fragile this reliance on strangers is, particularly in terms of relations between states and what the prognosis is for the future.

Mr Seabright’s book is very good on economics: indeed, the book is in part a clever re-telling of basic micro-economic theory – when markets work well, when they don’t, what can be done about it in either case. His book is less focused on issues apart from market-based exchange, like the importance of trust and reliance on strangers for community life and the enjoyability of life in cities.

Nevertheless, I think his basic point is extensible beyond economics: modern life requires thorough-going trust of strangers, so modern life is going to get more and more difficult if people trust each other less. If this is right, then public policies that increase societal trust could be useful and indeed increasingly necessary.

Esprit de corps

“The Spirit Level”, by Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett focuses on income inequality in societies, and links higher levels of income inequality with a very wide range of societal ills. Their basic point, substantiated with a great deal of data, is that societies with less equal income distributions do worse in a very great number of ways. They have worse mental and physical health, higher rates of obesity, lower life expectancy, worse educational performance, and higher rates of teenage pregnancy. They are also more violent, more crime ridden and suffer from less social mobility. This is shown both across countries and, for many of the same measures, across states in the United States with varying levels of income inequality.

Note that the negative effects referred to are not because countries or states are poorer than their comparators. They relate just to the level of income inequality, regardless of the total income level. Higher incomes are associated with higher life expectancy, to take just one example, but at any level of income, a less equal income distribution will mean lower life expectancy for the population. In this way the social ills tracked are shown to be related directly with income inequality.

Also note that the negative effects of income inequality are not just confined to the poor. It is true that, on many of the measures, poorer people in a society do worse, with lower life expectancy and higher rates of imprisonment, for example, that those with higher incomes. But, from the data, even those on high incomes are better off in a society with a more equal distribution of income. Greater equality helps the poor most, but helps all levels of society to some extent (except perhaps, say the authors, those who are very rich).

The scale of these differences between societies is enormous. As the authors say (p181 in my hard-back version), across whole populations, rates of mental illness are five times higher in the most unequal compared to the least unequal societies. People are five times more likely to be imprisoned, six times as likely to be clinically obese, and much more likely to be murdered. For all of a large number of social ills, living in a society with more equal income distribution means you will be socially far better off.

Put another way (p261), if the United States were to reduce its income inequality to about the average of the four most equal of the rich countries (Japan, Norway, Sweden and Finland on The Spirit Level data), rates of mental illness and obesity might be cut by two-thirds, teenage birth rates could be more than halved, prison populations could fall 75%, and people could live longer while working around two months less a year. At the same time, the proportion of the population feeling they could trust others might rise by 75%, with obvious positive consequences for the quality of community life.

Interestingly the book also refers directly to the impact of higher income inequality on trust within societies. There is long-term evidence quoted in the book that greater levels of income inequality reduce the extent to which people feel they can trust their fellow citizens and the extent to which they are willing to look out for them. In the terms of my hypothesis, greater income inequality makes citizens feel they have less in common with their fellow travellers, and this makes them less inclined to do anything to help others out.

How much equality

Usefully , there has been some news media recently about New Zealand’s relative level of income inequality. An OECD study has found that New Zealand and Sweden (!) have bolted up the international rankings for income inequality in the last 25 years. Most of the change apparently happened in the period from 1988 to the mid-1990s, with the nation above the OECD average level of inequality since then despite incomes becoming slightly less unequal since 1995.

The summary of the OECD study itself says several interesting things:

  • Income inequality has slightly declined since 1995 after growing sharply for the ten years before that. There has been income growth for all, but the middle class has been doing particularly well, reducing inequality in the income distribution.
  • Poverty has grown throughout the last 25 years to levels similar to the rest of the OECD (about 11% of people are now living on less than half of the median income, which is the definition the OECD uses for poverty).
  • In terms of distribution, the proportion of children living in poverty has grown to 15% – at the higher end of OECD figures – and poverty among younger adults has also grown. Poverty amongst the elderly, on the other hand, is amongst the lowest in the OECD, at 2%.
  • Poverty is highly correlated with unemployment. Almost half of people living in households where no one works are poor, compared with 4% of households in poverty if there are two or more people working.*

If societies with more equal income distributions are better places to live, then New Zealand became a less nice place to live through until the mid-1990s, and since then it has slightly improved. I guestimate that the sharp decline in equality after 1985 was caused in large part by sharply rising unemployment, which peaked in the late 1990s and then fell away to very low levels in the 2000s.

[then]

In terms of politics, the extent to which people think increasing inequality is a good thing or a bad thing varies quite a lot between even right-thinking individuals. And many people don’t like the idea of not liking inequality because it implies that they have to do something about it – especially by taking money from people who have more and giving it to people who have less.

I think some inequality is useful and important, but too much is likely to be bad, in the sense of doing more harm to society than good.

The economically useful part is when differences in income between different people reflect differences in the value of different jobs. These differences help guide people in making choices about what work they want to devote themselves to. Surgeons command higher salaries than baristas in large part because society is willing to pay more for quality surgery than they are for quality coffee. The differences in salaries between these two groups will help ensure that roughly the right number of people work as surgeons relative to the number that work as baristas. Income differences can be pro-social, i.e., they work for the good of society, in these circumstances.

Human beings, however, seem to have very strong views about fairness that limit appropriate distributions of income between different people. Some concept of fair play is built firmly into society, and so it seems normal for people to express concern and want to do something politically about income differences that are not justified or justifiable (my hypothesis is that this justification is made or should be made on the basis of the usefulness of a particular income distribution, from a society-wide point of view). We seem willing as a society to tolerate a level of income inequality, but once it gets out of hand, there is strong societal discomfort, condemnation, and public policy action to put in place a more even distribution. A lot of the debate that we see about economic policy seems to operate in these terms. Note that this is in a country where people generally do not get paid much by rich world standards, where the salary rates for the best paid do not reach the stratospheric levels of other nations, and where the systems for income redistribution are already very extensive.

What is to be done

If we are going to make public policy with a closer eye on how it might affect the level of trust between citizens, it is clearly going to require a much better understanding of what makes people care about others. As Rudyard Kipling wrote in “We and They”, quoted in The Spirit Level “All the people like us are We, and every one else is They”. If it is a good thing for society that everyone look out for each other more, how should it set things up so that people empathise with their fellow citizens?

The making of “they” can be incredibly powerful and I you see it all around me all the time. A person who receives public assistance is either one of us fallen on hard times, as the Dom Post had it the other day, or they are one of them – a work-shy dole-bludger in need of harsh treatment for his/her moral failings. Mr Seabright recounts an ingenious experiment from Benin in 2001 (p294) that demonstrated that voters would prefer policies that enriched them personally at the expense of neighbouring citizens over policies that would be of more general benefit to the nation. The tendency for politics especially to tribally appeal to supporters and define all others as different and dangerous is a constant threat even in liberal democracies like the one in which I am fortunate enough to dwell.

So the question is how do we encourage people in society to look out for each other, and not just those who are the same as us (although that would be a good start), but others who are different but not less worthy of our respect and, yes, assistance, because of that.

On my read, both books are less good on solutions and the policy agenda than they are on establishing their basic points. I am sure this reflects the long-term, uncertain and difficult nature of these problems – which therefore means they are more amenable to political solutions rather than careful policy analysis that weighs up the consequences of alternative approaches.

But from the books, some practical steps to build a more trusting society might include:

  • Redistribute earned income, i.e., try to ensure that people get a more equal recompense from working. The most obvious way to do this is with policies that reduce unemployment, since unemployment is closely tied with poverty, and also policies that raise wages, i.e., encourage the nation to focus on producing things that the world is willing to pay a lot for, and ensure the education system makes the maximum contribution to educating people for high-wage work.As part of this redistribution, The Spirit Level also suggests constraining the forces that generate inequality, in particular the extremely high levels of CEO pay, which perhaps is less an issue in New Zealand. The British government is talking about introducing a simple mechanism for shareholders to vote on CEO pay, intending that this will give more direct control by company owners.

    The Spirit Level also suggests employee ownership as a solution (rather than such extensive ownership by investors with only a financial stake in the company. They argue that more employee ownership would encourage a more long-term, less rapacious and more fulfilling (for employees) style of capitalism if it were combined with more participatory management methods.

  • Redistribute disposable income – i.e., a more progressive welfare system. It isn’t clear to me where the limits of redistribution lie, but it does seem to me that New Zealand is quite progressive already, with 70% of the tax being paid by 25% of the taxpayers. Other tax changes, like introducing a higher rate of income tax for those with very high incomes, seem to be mostly of symbolic effect – they don’t raise enough money to change the distribution of taxation very much at all.
  • Provision of public services with public money, especially health, education and welfare services, can help even up society by effectively insuring citizens against the financial burden of education, ill-health or economic or social crisis. The quality of these services also matter: Mr Seabright discusses the importance of a “secular, multi-ethnic and liberal” education to ensure that citizens learn “how to live peacefully and profitably with people whose community and religion are not one’s own”.
  • Socialise these ideas – The education system is far from being the only place where people learn how to behave. This point is really just a sustained effort to convince people that the world can easily be a different and more pleasurable place to live, and that improving things is partly down to them and how they live their lives every day. So get to know your neighbours, start a after-school programme, run a block party, join a community group. Get amongst it citizens, the health of your nation is at stake.

* The OECD also mentions that New Zealand does a good job of targetting its welfare at the poorest – one third of total cash benefits go to the poorest 20% of the population – only Denmark and Australia do better. Which is probably just as well, given how little money our nation has to distribute by comparison with the rest of the (much richer) rich world. (It amazes me that managing to get only one third of cash benefits targetted at the poorest 20% is considered a good performance – however, that is for another day).

** These specifics come from The Spirit Level, where the game is discussed from page 199.

Marriage – how often, when, how long

I read a fascinating article from the truly brilliant American National Public Radio on marriage between people of different ethnicities. It charts the change in societal attitudes towards inter-ethnic marriage: in 1968 only 20 percent of Americans thought it was okay for a white person to marry a black person. Fast-forward to 2011: 96 percent of African-Americans and 84 percent of whites Americans accept the idea, although inter-ethnic marriages are still rare – only 7.4% of marriages in the US are between two people of different ethnicities.*

This triggered my interest in marriage in general, especially because I thought that marriage was becoming increasingly popular – certainly everyone that I know seems very keen on it these days. And everyone loves a good wedding. Such a spirit of optimism, enthusiasm and hope.

Sadly New Zealand does not seem to have publicly available statistics on marriages by ethnicity. Although I have some other information on ethnicity sent by someone helpful at Stats NZ, so I might pen another post on that.

But we do know quite a lot about marriage from Stats NZ data, including how many people get married or civil unionised. The rate of marriage (adjusted for the size and age of the population) is gently falling over time, although the number of marriages is pretty static at around 21,000 a year. Men are slightly more likely to re-marry than women following divorce, and women are very slightly more likely to remarry after the death of a previous marriage partner (presumably this is related to the fact that women are lucky enough to live longer on average).

Not such good odds

For the year to December 2010, your odds of getting married were about 1 in 80, down from 1 in 22 in 1971 (the most popular year for marriage since records began in 1961).

Proportion of marriable people who got married by year**

Civil unions became possible on April 26 2005. (Good on those of you who were first in the door to tie the knot on April 29). There have been 2,200 registered since then (compared with nearly 130,000 marriages), and about 80% of them were same-sex civil unions.

Not so young

The median age for marriage has continued to go up reaching 30 for men and 28 for women first marrying in 2010. The median age for marriage overall (including second and subsequent marriages) is now 32 for men and 30 for women.

Stats presents another way of looking at it:

In 1971, 62 percent of men and 52 percent of women marrying for the first time were aged 20–24 years, compared with 15 percent and 22 percent for men and women, respectively, in 2010. Teenagers comprised 36 percent of women who married for the first time in 1971, but only 3 percent in 2010.

Below is the 2010 age distribution of marriage (this is for all marriage – not just first ones). You can see 30% of women and 27% of men who get married do so between the ages of 25 and 29.

Age distribution of marriages in 2010

Not all sunshine and lollipops

So basically marriage is getting less popular, and it is happening later in life. The reason I thought the opposite (given the behaviour of people around me) must be because I am of an age when people who are going to get married do so (although my friends have generally been at the older end of the scale – sigh), and I am yet too young to see many divorces (long may it continue).

Speaking of divorce, this is the trend in the number of divorces over time. I have put it on the same chart as marriages so you can see how many more marriages there are than divorces. On average over the past 20 years we have added ten thousand to our stock of marriages every year – with about twenty thousand marriages and about ten thousand divorces.

You can see that divorce numbers grew after the law changed in 1981 to allow no-fault dissolution of marriage after two years living apart, but the divorce numbers have recently fallen away a bit. Note that the number of divorces and marriages in any year are only indirectly linked. The number of divorces this year depends on the divorce rate and the number of married people, and therefore the number of marriages in the past, not the number in the current year.

Number of divorces and marriages over time

Divorce has become a bit less popular recently. Around 1.2% of existing marriages ended in divorce each year from 1985 until 2006. Since then though, the divorce rate has settled down to a more modest 1%. About 40% of divorces involve people with children aged under 17 – down from more like 50% twenty years ago.

So if 2012 is just like 2010, if you aren’t married, you have a 1 in 80 chance of getting married. And if you are already married, you have a one in a hundred chance of divorcing in the coming year.

Til death us do part

In line with the declining popularity of divorce, marriages are growing in length. Stats NZ says that about a third of marriages from 1985 had ended within 25 years, which is a glass-half-empty way of saying that two thirds of marriages last more than 25 years. I suspect the length of marriages is growing over time; partly as an effect of the falling divorce rate, but also because athough people are marrying later they are also living longer, implying longer marriages for those who stay together. Almost half of divorces take place after between 5 and 14 years of marriage. One in eight divorces is for couples together for less than five years.

Median length of marriage for those than end in divorce

Like rain on your wedding day

Stats also collect data on which month people choose for their nuptials. Unsurprisingly, people like to get married in January, February or March – 40% of weddings take place in the summer, compared with 14% in the winter. Ten years ago, it seems October and November were rather more popular than they are today. If we line this up with the number of rain days in each month (based on long-term average stats from NIWA), you can see why summer is so popular (the red line shows the number of rain days, the blue bar the proportion of weddings). Sadly there are no statistics on the impact of a sunny wedding on the likelihood of breakup in the future.

If you really want sunshine on the special day, Scott Base in Antarctica seems to be the sunniest place in New Zealand. It had an average of a remarkable 380 hours of sunshine in January when the sun never sets (data from 1957-1959). Although the cold might impose some restraints on the wedding dress, penguin would make an interesting feast. By comparison, sunny Nelson only gets 266 hours of sunshine in January – using data for the thirty years to 2000.***

Marriages and rain days by month

PS Unsurprisingly, I guess, the age of mothers having children has gone up as well as the age of marriage. Below shows the distribution of live births by age of the mother in 1961 and 2010. In 1961 more than a third of children were born to mothers between the ages of 20 and 24. Today that can be said only of 18% of children. The most popular age is 30 to 34 (28% of children born in 2010 had mothers this age), followed by 25 to 29 (close behind at 25%).

Age of mother at birth


* Presumably there is a higher rate of inter-ethnicity amongst new marriages but I don’t have a number for it.

** These figures are what Stats NZ call the “General” marriage rate – the number of marriages + civil unions per 1,000 estimated not-married people aged over 16. (There does not seem to be an upper age limit). I have converted it to a percentage to make it a bit easier to understand.

*** Weather data comes from NIWA

Taxing the rich

There was lots of talk about taxing higher income earners more in the election campaign. In particular:*

  • Labour said it would introduce a new tax rate of 39 cents in the dollar for income over 150k (currently 33 cents), and reduce to zero the tax rate on income below 5k (currently 10.5%).
  • The Greens proposed higher income tax rates at all income levels (including a 39 cent rate on income over 80k), except for those earning less than 10k, who would pay no income tax.

To some extent both proposals seem to be based on an argument that taxing those on higher incomes is fairer, and that at present the lowest income earners are too highly taxed. The Green party proposes to raise income tax for everyone except those earning less than 10k – so the justification for its proposal would presumably also be that higher taxes in general are useful and important to support other policy priorities.

It is worth noting though, that those on higher incomes already pay a lot more income tax than others. This is not just because they earn more, but also of course because the income tax rates get higher as incomes grow. The current tax rates start at 10.5% for incomes up to 14k, and go up to 33% for incomes over 70k. So anyone who earns more than 70k pays three times as much income tax for every extra dollar s/he earns than those who earn less than 14k.

It is interesting to see how these rates shake out in practice, i.e., applied to  incomes for real people. The Treasury releases the helpful “Facts for Taxpayers” with every Budget in May. From the table for the 2011 Budget, I have made this slightly simplified version of who earns how much and how much tax they pay.

Annual taxable income (Budget 2011)**

Number of people Amount of tax
(000) % (m) %
<10k 677 20 221 1
<50k 2519 75 6903 30
>50k 823 25 15907 70
>100k 164 5 6958 31

Some facts are immediately obvious:

  • Incomes are low – 75% of those who pay income tax earned less than 50k in 2011 – this is 2.5 million people out of total of 3.3 million taxpayers.
  • The tax system is quite progressive – i.e., the more you earn, the higher the proportion of your salary that you contribute. The 25% of people on more than 50k paid 70% of the tax in 2011. The 20% of taxpayers on less than 10k (which includes 244k people who have a zero income) pay 1% of the tax.

I had a look at the same numbers since 2002. These tables show the proportion of people in each band over time, and the proportion of tax they pay. If I had the genius of Keith Ng, I would do a data visualisation but sadly I do not.

Proportion of people in each salary band by year (%)

2011 2010 2009 2008 2007 2006 2005 2004 2003 2002
Salary band
<10k 20 20 21 21 21 22 22 23 25 26
<50k 75 76 79 78 80 83 84 87 86 87
>50k 25 24 21 22 20 17 16 15 13 14
>100k 5 5 3 5 3 3 3 3 2 3

Proportion of income tax paid by people in each salary band by year (%)

2011 2010 2009 2008 2007 2006 2005 2004 2003 2002
Salary band
<10k 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2
<50k 30 32 36 34 37 39 43 45 45 47
>50k 70 68 64 64 62 60 57 55 54 53
>100k 31 29 26 29 27 27 25 24 24 24

We can see some interesting trends:

  • Incomes are growing over time – The number of taxpayers earning more than 50k grew 7% a year from 2002-2011. As a proportion, taxpayers in the more than 50k bracket have grown from 14% in 2002 to 25% in 2011.
  • Tax incidence is growing more progressive – Those earning less than 10k (including those with zero income) paid 1% of tax in 2011 – down from 2% in 2002. The proportion of tax paid by those on more than 50k is up from 53% in 2002 to 70% in 2011. Those on more than 100k pay 31% of tax in 2011, up from 24% in 2002.
  • National’s tax cuts in 2010 do not seem to have made the tax system more regressive. On the contrary, the porportion of tax paid by higher income earners has gone up from 64% in 2008 to 70% in 2011.

Presumably a lot of this extra progression (i.e., the higher and higher proportion of tax paid by those earning more than 50k) reflects growth in incomes over time. The number of people earning more than 50k has grown 8% a year since 2002, while the number of people earning less than 50k (including those who earn nothing) has fallen a gentle 1%.

We can try to compensate for this growing incomes effect by calculating the amount of tax paid per person across income bands. This is just the total income tax for each band, divided by the number of people in that band. The results are shown below.

Average amount of income tax paid per person in each salary band by year ($)

2011 2010 2009 2008 2007 2006 2005 2004 2003 2002
Salary band
<10k 326 348 373 364 388 468 462 474 553 547
<50k 2740 2937 3246 3492 3753 3502 3491 3454 3393 3393
>50k 19328 20635 20917 24480 24884 25807 25679 25281 25030 24997
>100k 42427 49106 49975 56420 57407 63042 62294 62179 61915 58870

You can see that the average amount of tax paid has fallen across all income bands since National came into power in 2008. For those on less than 10k (which includes those with zero income), this is a continuation of a long trend – tax has fallen from 547 in 2002 to 326 this year.

You can also see the impact of National’s income tax cuts:

  • Those earning less than 50k (including those with zero income) have seen their tax fall from an average of $3492 in 2008 to $2740 this year.
  • The average income tax paid by those earning more than 50k has fallen from 25k in 2008 to 19k in 2011.

From this you can argue that most of the tax cuts, in an absolute sense, went to those who earn the most. So the total tax paid by those earning more than 100k has fallen 14k (from 56k to 42k) since 2008, compared with the total tax paid by those earning less than 50k falling by $500 (from 3.2k to 2.7k). But this is a direct result of the progressivity of the tax system – i.e., tax cuts mostly benefit higher income earners because higher income earners pay most of the tax.

As we saw above, in practice the proportion of tax paid by higher income earners has grown over time rather than fallen. And the tax cuts have been reasonably even spread – the average amount of tax paid by those earning more than 50k fell 21% between 2008 and 2011, compared with 22% for those earning less than 50k. Those earning more than 100k did a bit better – their average income tax bill fell 25% – reflecting the impact of removing the top tax rate.

You can download the data I compiled from the Treasury’s Key Facts for Taxpayers. I can send you the documents from 2000-2006 as well if you like (the 2007-2011 versions are on the Treasury website and the Treasury helpfully sent me the 2000-2006 versions). Drop me a line on twitter or use the contact form.

 

* There is a lot more to both parties’ tax policies than this – the focus here is just on income tax.

** The Treasury says that these numbers include tax on NZ Super and major benefits, and exclude ACC levies, Working for Families tax credits, and anyone under 15. Data is projected for the year ended March based on the Household Economic Survey from Statistics New Zealand. The Ministry of Social Development says that nearly all households earning under $70,000 a year are eligible for Working for Families. So I would expect that higher income earners would be paying an even higher proportion of tax
if these tax credits were included in the numbers.