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4 min read

Millions of children go hungry in a country that dares to call itself godly

The gospel of national greatness is less about grace and more about political grit

George is a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and an Anglican priest.

A sand drawing shows an unhappy child's face with the tide coming in from below
A sand drawing for a child poverty campaign.
Barnardos.

If anything, the UK – and more specifically England – is becoming a Christian country again. But not necessarily in a good way. The rise of Christian nationalism mirrors the American experience, with Christian symbols such as the cross weaponised against asylum seekers and the knuckle-draggers under them, marching as to war. 

But there are still many non-belligerents who would stake a claim to our Christian nationhood. Wiser counsels such as the historian Tom Holland. Or Danny Kruger MP, who spoke to a near-empty chamber in parliament recently, before defecting from the Conservatives to Reform UK, about a Christian restoration, envisioning a "re-founding of this nation on the teachings that Alfred made the basis of the common law of England." He may need to explain that slowly to Nigel Farage. 

But by what measure do we claim to be a Christian country? Here’s one: Child poverty. It’s very hard to make a case for a state being foundationally Christian in principle if significant numbers of its children go hungry. And the UK shamefully ranks among the worst of the world’s richest countries in this regard, with our children’s poverty rates rising by 20 per cent over the past decade – defined as those living in a household with less than 60 per cent of the national median income, so currently less than about £19,000 a year.  

That’s some 4.5 million living in poverty, or 9 in a typical classroom of 30. Unless action is taken the number will push five million by 2030. Anecdotal evidence from teachers is truly shocking. Children arrive hungry at school with empty lunchboxes to fill and feed family at home. The UK ranks below poorer countries such as Poland and Slovenia, which are currently cutting their child-poverty rates, and well ahead of other wealthy nations such as Finland and Denmark.  

It’s a national disgrace. Christologically, it also fails the minimum threshold for a nation that supposedly holds that the kingdom of heaven belongs to children. In damp and sub-standard housing this winter, lacking nutritious diet and prone to ill-health, heaven will have to wait for these British children. 

The same gospel tells us that the poor are always with us, which may make us resigned to it. But political complacency won’t do. If there is always relative poverty against great riches, then the true measure must be what we’re trying to do about it. The damning answer to that seems to be very little. 

It’s actually worse than that. The circumstance is one of our own deliberate, political making, exacerbated by the then chancellor George Osborne, who introduced the two-child benefit cap in 2017. That limited benefit payments for families claiming Child Tax Credit or Universal Credit for more than two children. It was part of Osborne’s pantomime wicked-squire act, as he repeatedly told us with a straight face that “we’re all in this together”. It was also borderline eugenics, because one of its effects was to limit the breeding of “lower orders”, the benefit cap disproportionately hitting the budgets of working and ethnic-minority families. 

With Osborne’s selective austerity and social-engineering drive long gone, it’s well past time for a Labour government to do something to rectify such social injustice. Current chancellor Rachel Reeves must abolish the two-child benefit cap in her November Budget. With other welfare cuts prevented by Labour’s summer backbench rebellion, the question inevitably squawked by right-wingers is how that will be paid for. 

 Opposition parties relish the prospect of Reeves welching on pre-election promises not to raise taxes on working families. And abolishing the two-child welfare cap could cost £3.5 billion a year. 

There are creative ways and means. Veteran chancellor and former prime minister Gordon Brown – the unsung hero of the 2008 worldwide financial meltdown, without whom we wouldn’t have an economy to do anything with – proposes fairly taxing the excess profits of the £11.5 billion gambling industry, which enjoys VAT exemptions and pays just 21 per cent tax, compared with 35-57 per cent in other industrialised  countries. And if more money is needed then remove some of the interest-rate subsidy enjoyed by commercial banks when they deposit money at the Bank of England. That is what social justice looks like (gambling also costs the NHS £1 billion-plus in harms, so it’s time for the industry to pay up). 

That points to some fiscal answers. There are other actions that must be taken this autumn, at political conferences and on any platform available to those with a public voice and conscience. It’s good to see Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York and stand-in primate of England in the absence of Canterbury, laying into the two-child limit and benefit cap. 

Both Cottrell and Brown tell heart-breaking stories of children’s poverty in the UK. We must fight it and ensure that Reeves’ forthcoming Budget does so. As the children’s commissioner for England, Dame Rachel de Souza said recently that millions of children are living in “almost Dickensian levels of poverty”. The irony is that in Dickens’ time we were called a Christian country. 

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Character
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3 min read

After Angela, who's next?

Rayner’s resignation should prompt politicians to pause

Jean is a consultant working with financial and Christian organisations. She also writes and broadcasts.

Angela Rayner pauses while delivering a speech
x.com/mhclg

The dust is settling after the resignation of Angela Rayner, British Deputy Prime Minister. It’s not yet clear if her downfall will be fatal for her long-term political ambition. However, the manner of it had me muttering to myself. ‘If you live by the sword, you die by the sword.’ We all make mistakes. Angela Rayner made a mistake and it is clear that she broke the ministerial code. Do I think she should have resigned? It’s not as clear cut. Yes and no.  

Yes, because I think we need our politicians to maintain the highest standards. I think she should have resigned as soon as she realised, she had made the mistake. She probably didn’t need to wait for the conclusion of the ethics investigation.  

At the same time, no, because I don’t think it was a deliberate attempt to dodge paying the right amount of stamp duty. Instead, she greatly underestimated the significance and implications of not seeking the relevant tax advice. I am sure, some of us have seen those, ‘this is not legal/tax/financial advice’ statements on communications from banks and lawyers. and chose to ignore them, thinking they apply to someone else and not specifically us.        

But as follower of politics, I remember Angela Rayner regularly lambasted Conservative minsters for similar tax infringements. There was never any consideration for the families of those ministers or the impact of her accusations on the mental health or careers of said politicians. Sadly, her actions have come back to haunt her and, as is to be expected, led to cries of hypocrisy. That’s why the Prime Minister had no choice but to accept her resignation. If she (and the Labour Party more generally) had been less combative and judgemental, and focused less on highlighting class and wealth differences, Angela Rayner may not have had to fall on her sword? Maybe an apology would have been enough? Many of us sympathise with her complex caring responsibilities and agree that the tax system is unnecessarily complicated. There could have been grace. But if you live by the sword, you will eventually die by the sword. 

This whole episode has reminded me of the importance of treating people as I would like to be treated. We are all prone to making mistakes. We are all guilty of hypocrisy both intentionally and unintentionally. That doesn’t mean we can’t speak truth or hold people to account.  

In the last week, every major political Party leader has been asked to comment on Angela Rayner and her purchase of an £800k flat in Hove hundreds of miles away from her constituency. I was impressed by Ed Davey’s (Leader of the Liberal Democrats) response to this ‘Hovegate’ saga. He was graceful, acknowledging the difficulty Rayner faced balancing a huge job alongside her caring and parental responsibilities, and the complexities of the tax system. But at the same time, accepted that politicians ought to be held to the highest ethical standards. He tried to shine a light on the underlying policy issues Rayner’s resignation rests on, and how to fix them. 

Wouldn’t be great if this incident led to real conversations about policy reform to stamp duty and parent/carer responsibilities instead of party-political machinations? What if our politicians spent a little bit of time thinking about what it would be like to live in the opposing team’s shoes? We might just get better politics and policy. 

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
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