Oligarchs hide billions in shell companies. Here's how we stop them

The Panama Papers have helped tax authorities recover over $500m around the world. Property registries could ensure that even more is recovered

Frederik Obermaier and Bastian Obermayer in The Guardian 

 

According to Navi Pillay, the former UN high commissioner for human rights, ‘The money stolen through corruption every year is enough to feed the world’s hungry 80 times over.’ Photograph: Arnulfo Franco/AP


Two years ago we published the Panama Papers after an anonymous source provided 2.6 terabytes of internal data from the dubious Panamanian law firm of Mossack Fonseca. We shared the data with 400 journalists worldwide and together revealed how the wealthy and powerful use shell companies to hide their assets. Such companies are exploited by dictators, drug cartels, mafia clans, fraudsters, weapons dealers and regimes like North Korea and Iran to hide their shady business transactions.


As a consequence, Sigmundur Davíð Gunnlaugsson, the prime minister of Iceland, resigned. Pakistani prime minister Nawaz Sharif did the same, and in the United Kingdom even David Cameron’s father was implicated. So far, the Panama Papers have helped tax authorities around the world to recover more than $500m in unpaid taxes and penalties. It could be far more if lawmakers finally take action.

After publishing the Panama Papers, we have heard a lot of promises from politicians around the world. They have talked about the need for transparency, and while the discussion is warm, the details are complicated: a multilateral exchange of information and stronger anti-money laundering regulations are as difficult to implement and control as they sound.

But why bother? There is a far less bureaucratic and more powerful measure: public beneficial ownership registries. Databases in which citizens can easily access and explore the owners of companies. Not the nominee director, not the fake shareholder – the real owner. The person at the center of the matryoshka-like corporate structures, or, as experts refer to them: the ultimate beneficial owner of a company.

A database of actual owners would enable companies to check with whom they are actually doing business with. It would enable activists, journalists and skeptical citizens to investigate the individuals running dubious companies which earn millions in alleged “consulting contracts”, which are in many cases nothing more than concealed payments of corruption money. It would also give prosecutors the opportunity to follow dark money without having to rely on nerve-racking, time-consuming legal maneuvers with foreign governments.

Searchable by company and by individual names, it would enable investigators to see if Dictator X or Autocrat Y owns companies in Country Z. Combined with a public property register, it would narrow, if not close, loopholes which allow oligarchs and their relatives to betray their own citizens and stash plundered money across the globe.

Creating beneficial ownership registries will not be easy. Recently, the UK House of Lords rejected an attempt to force overseas territories under British control to create said registries. And in the United States, where some states make it more difficult to vote than to start a company, there has yet to be any reasonable public discussion about creating these transparent registries, making America a willing accomplice in global corruption. The treasury department in 2015 estimated that approximately $300bn in illicit proceeds are generated in the US per year!

Critics of public beneficial ownership registries often say that exposing company owners could put them in danger of blackmail or even kidnapping. However, no data supports such claims and there will likely never be any. As it is, the financial elite often surround themselves with the symbols and spoils of wealth, such as big cars, yachts and villas. There is no desire to hide their treasure; in fact, they often flaunt it.

Corruption is a scourge. It hits the poor first and hits them hard. Whole continents are plundered, the proceeds of human trafficking are laundered, wars are financed and violent religious extremism is supported.

The word “corruption” comes from the Latin “corrumpere”, which can mean “to destroy”. Corruption destroys democracy. Corruption costs citizens extraordinary amounts of money. According to estimates, corruption consumes more than 5% of the global gross domestic product.

Developing regions lose more than 10 times the money they receive in foreign aid to illicit financial schemes. Without corruption and the shell companies that make it possible, there might be no need for aid to Africa or Asia. Most importantly, corruption kills. According to Navi Pillay, the former United Nations high commissioner for human rights, “The money stolen through corruption every year is enough to feed the world’s hungry 80 times over”.

As Louis Brandeis, the late associate justice of the supreme court of the United States, once pointed out sunlight is the best disinfectant. Hence let the sunshine in! Lawmakers must make public beneficial ownership registries a priority to ensure that institutions remain transparent and democratic.

There is no legitimate reason to allow individuals to own anonymous companies or to help new “entrepreneurs” to create them. Lava Jato in Brazil, the Fifa scandal and nearly every other major corruption case have involved opaque company structures created to bribe, receive bribes or to hide dirty money.

Financial crimes rely on exploiting anonymous companies and trusts, and secrecy jurisdictions like the British Virgin Islands, the Cayman Islands and the states of Delaware and Nevada are partners in those crimes. They must be held accountable.

Waiting for a global solution means waiting a long time, if not forever. The only way to draw the corporate curtain back and expose corruption is for lawmakers to work in the public interest and create public beneficial ownership registries and public property registries now. The more countries that adopt these measures, the less places dictators, human traffickers, weapons dealers and oligarchs can hide.

Lawmakers that claim to stand against corruption should do so by fighting for these kinds of registries now, or forever hold their peace.

A tax haven blacklist without the UK is a whitewash

Prem Sikka in The Guardian







At the heart of the intensifying debate about fairness and inequality is tax. Who can think without shuddering of the opportunity costs incurred by needy economies robbed of the tax to which they are entitled? In that context, and against the backdrop of exposure exercises such as the Paradise Papers, there was understandable enthusiasm for the European Union’s latest list of uncooperative tax havens. It arrived this week, amid much ballyhoo and talk of toughness. What a disappointment.

The EU put 17 extra-EU jurisdictions on a blacklist: American Samoa, Bahrain, Barbados, Grenada, Guam, South Korea, Macau, Marshall Islands, Mongolia, Namibia, Palau, Panama, St Lucia, Samoa, Trinidad and Tobago, Tunisia and the United Arab Emirates. They could lose access to EU funds and incur sanctions soon to be announced. But contrast the list with what we know was revealed about international tax avoidance by both the Paradise and Panama Papers.

The EU seems to have targeted countries with little economic, military or diplomatic weight. The list includes Panama, which was central to the Panama Papers, but not Bermuda, which was central to the Paradise Papers. In imperialist mode, the EU paints a picture that broadly says that “those over there” in low-income countries, at the periphery of the global economy, are a source of the world’s economic problems and should face sanctions. The blacklist does not include any western country, even though accountants, lawyers, banks and much of the infrastructure that lubricates global tax avoidance are located in the west. Also excluded are UK crown dependencies and overseas territories, which have undermined the tax base of other countries for decades.

Another 47 jurisdictions are included in a “greylist”: these are not compliant with the standards demanded by the EU, but have given commitments to change their rules. This list includes Andorra, Belize, Bermuda, the Cayman Islands, Guernsey, the Isle of Man, Jersey, Liechtenstein, San Marino and Switzerland. But even that is deficient. And Luxembourg is missing altogether.

Where is the UK on either list? It offers special tax arrangements to non-domiciled billionaires that are not available to British citizens. We are deeply complicit. The UK has long enabled large companies and accountancy firms to write favourable tax laws, and has entered into sweetheart deals with major corporations.


The UK has long enabled accountancy firms to write favourable tax laws, and entered into sweetheart deals

The issue of tax avoidance is not going away. Corporations and wealthy elites are addicted to it. And many of the tax havens, as comparatively small countries, are not readily going to dilute their practices, as a decent standard of living cannot easily be provided by seasonal tourism, agriculture and fishing.

But the EU blacklist is a wasted opportunity because there are things the international community can do. Tax havens should, for example, be offered favourable financial grants by the EU and other countries to rebuild their economies and become hubs for new industries, and research and development. Grants should be conditional on step-by-step progress towards meeting specified benchmarks on transparency, accountability and cooperation, including a publicly available register of beneficial ownership of all companies and trusts, and a list of the assets held by wealthy individuals. Havens would need to commit to automatic exchange of information with other countries on any matter relating to tax or illicit financial flows.

The accounts of corporations and limited liability partnerships holed up in tax havens should also be made public. At the very least, the EU and the UK should insist that the public accountability mechanisms in tax havens match those on mainland Europe.

As for jurisdictions that reject reform, they should face sanctions. The imposition of a withholding tax, of say 20%, on all interest and dividend payments to individuals and companies would reduce their attractiveness. Labour’s 2017 manifesto contained that idea.

The EU, the UK and other countries could also ensure that no individual or company under their jurisdiction would be able to import or export any goods or services from designated tax havens. The UK is being asked to pay a fee to secure access to EU markets after Brexit; by the same logic, a fee should be demanded from tax havens in the shape of better transparency and accountability. Persistently aggressive jurisdictions might suffer travel and visa restrictions, or be denied the use of international satellites that tax havens rely on for communications and financial transactions.

These ideas, and there are others, may not curb the predatory practices of tax havens overnight, but any or all would give the sponsors and users of these territories considerable food for thought. Action is often promised, but how many weak governments have sought refuge behind the claim that global tax avoidance requires international solutions, while at the same time undermining possibilities of international solutions? Too many.

We cannot afford to go on like this. Be brave and follow the money.

Why do people care more about benefit ‘scroungers’ than billions lost to the rich?

Robert De Vries and Aaron Reeves in The Guardian


The Paradise Papers have once again revealed the ingenuity and energy the super-rich are willing to deploy to keep their money away from the taxman. By illuminating the scale of this injustice, journalists have provided an invaluable service. And yet the revelations do not seem to have generated the level of public outrage that might have been expected.

At a time of staggering global inequality, it is perhaps surprising that people are not more animated by the determination of the ultra-rich to avoid their obligations to support our roads, hospitals, soldiers and schools – when regular citizens are unable to take advantage of such arrangements. However, this relative lack of concern is consistent with research on people’s attitudes towards tax avoidance.

Last year’s British Social Attitudes survey asked Britons about their feelings on this issue. Our analysis of this data (with Ben Baumberg Geiger of the University of Kent) revealed that the British public believes tax avoidance to be commonplace (around one third of taxpayers are assumed to have exploited a tax loophole). In moral terms, people seem rather ambivalent; less than half (48%) thought that legal tax avoidance was “usually or always wrong”.

By contrast, more than 60% of Britons believe it is “usually or always wrong” for poorer people to use legal loopholes to claim more benefits. In other words, people are significantly more likely to condemn poor people for using legal means to obtain more benefits than they are to condemn rich people for avoiding tax. This is a consistent finding across many different studies. For example, detailed interviews conducted by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis found that people “tended to be far more exercised by the prospect of low-income groups exploiting the system than they were about high-income groups doing the same”.

This discrepancy is reflected in government priorities. Deep public antipathy towards benefit “scroungers” has been the rock upon which successive Conservative-led parliaments have built the case for austerity. Throughout his premiership, David Cameron, along with his chancellor, George Osborne, kept the opposition between “hardworking people” and lazy benefit claimants right at the centre of their messaging on spending cuts. Though gestures have been made towards addressing widespread tax avoidance by the wealthy, very little has actually been achieved. This stands in stark contrast to the scale and speed with which changes have been made to welfare legislation.

Will the Paradise Papers shift the public’s focus? The leaks alone are seemingly not enough. The 2016 British Social Attitudes survey was conducted just four months after the release of the Panama Papers. Even then, the British public remained more concerned about benefit claimants than tax avoiders.

Fundamentally, the Paradise Papers are about numbers – vast sums of money disappearing offshore that could be spent on public services here in the UK. However, as the former chair of the UK Statistics Authority, Andrew Dilnot, has often pointed out, people are bad at dealing with numbers on this scale. Unless you are an economist or a statistician, numbers in the millions and billions are just not particularly meaningful.

The key is to link these numbers to their consequences. The money we lose because people like Lewis Hamilton don’t pay some VAT on their private jet means thousands more visits to food banks. The budget cuts leading to rising homelessness might not have been necessary if Apple had paid more tax. Fewer people might have killed themselves after a work-capability assessment if companies like Alphabet (Google) had not registered their offices in Bermuda, and the downward pressure on benefits payments was not so intense. 

The causal chains connecting these events are complex and often opaque, but that does not make their consequences any less real, especially for those who have felt the hard edge of austerity.

The Paradise Papers have dragged the murky world of offshore finance into the spotlight. However, calls for change may founder against the British public’s persistent focus on the perceived crimes of the poor. That is, unless we – as academics, politicians, journalists and others – can articulate how the decisions of the very rich contribute to the expulsion of the vulnerable from the protection of state-funded public services. Quite simply, people get hurt when the rich don’t pay their taxes.

Britain's role in the growth of tax havens

Andrew Verity in The BBC


Here's the received wisdom: when the British Empire faded in size and significance after World War Two, a few scattered islands around the globe wanted to keep their imperial ties to London.

The British government had to find a way to reduce the economic dependence of the likes of Bermuda, Montserrat or the British Virgin Islands, so it awarded them special tax-exempt status, creating the conditions for a thriving financial services industry.

Yes, tax evasion and money laundering may have got a little out of hand from time to time, but overall it succeeded in lifting them out of dependence on the UK government.

But there's a deeper story. It wasn't by design that the remnants of a dying British Empire morphed into a world leader in offshore financial services, selling secrecy and tax avoidance to multi-nationals and the wealthiest individuals in the world.

Instead, the crucial moment was more of an accident - which gave rise to advantages no-one had foreseen.

And it began not in Bermuda or Jersey but in another offshore centre - "offshore" not to the UK, but to the US - the City of London.

Incentives to avoid

When the 20th Century began, income tax was in single digits and progressive taxation - charging richer people a higher rate - had barely begun.

In the run-up to World War One, chancellors of the exchequer - from Asquith to Lloyd George - began raising taxes to pay for social reforms, such as the old age pension.

As the war progressed, the state demanded more and more income tax from every citizen and higher rates for the wealthy, leading to a top rate of 30% by 1919.

Accountants to wealthy individuals began to devise ways to avoid tax. Clients could become resident in Jersey, where tax rates were far lighter.

Or, if they wanted to stay in London, they might put their money in a trust registered elsewhere, perhaps on the Isle of Man, where in theory it was no longer theirs - and therefore not visible to the prying eyes of an Inland Revenue inspector.

David Lloyd George served as Chancellor in Herbert Henry Asquith's government, before rising to PM in 1916

But it was in the dying days of the Empire that the offshore financial services industry truly boomed.

Defined by purpose rather than geography, "offshore" means any jurisdiction that seeks to attract investors on the basis of light taxes and looser regulations.

On that basis, the epicentre of the offshore industry is not Nassau in the Bahamas or George Town in the Cayman Islands.

As author Nick Shaxson points out in his fascinating offshore expose, Treasure Islands: "The modern offshore system did not start its explosive growth on scandal-tainted and palm-fringed islands in the Caribbean, or in the Alpine foothills of Zurich. It all began in London, as Britain's formal Empire gave way to something more subtle."

By accident - not design

In 1957, Britain and its imperial remains were trying to recover from a financial crisis. The previous year the UK had joined forces with France and Israel to try to recapture the Suez Canal after it was nationalised by the defiant anti-colonial Egyptian President, Gamal Abdel Nasser.

Viewing the invasion as European imperialism at its worst, the US refused any assistance.

By the end of 1956, a run on the pound was under way. The Bank of England wanted to curb the outflow of pounds by boosting interest rates sharply, but Her Majesty's Treasury had other ideas.

Since the Bretton Woods economic conference of 1944 towards the end of World War Two, countries had agreed to control movements of capital to curb the speculative flows into and out of countries that had worsened the economic crises of the past.

If, say, Tate & Lyle wanted to invest several million pounds in a new sugar production facility in Jamaica, it would need signed approval from Her Majesty's Treasury.

Normally this was a formality. But during the Suez crisis, the Treasury announced that, on a temporary basis, it would no longer approve foreign capital investments.Image copyrightREUTERSImage captionThe Bank of England did not get its way against the Treasury

The City's merchant banks were alarmed. Arranging finance for projects in the former colonies was their lifeblood. How would they avoid ruin?

Digging through the archives, financial academic Gary Burn unearthed what happened next.

Hearing the banks' complaints in a series of meetings, the Bank of England agreed in late 1957 to allow the commercial banks to continue to lend and borrow to foreign clients on two conditions:
the lending had to be in a currency other than sterling, and
both sides of the transaction - the lender and the borrower - had to reside somewhere other than the UK
"The decision was momentous in all respects," says one of the leading experts in offshore finance, Prof Ronen Palan of City, University of London. "They simply deemed certain transactions as not taking place in the UK. Where did the transactions take place for regulatory purposes? Nowhere.

"I think it wasn't at all by design; it was a mistake. They didn't understand the implications. It was seen as an accounting device."

The so-called "Eurodollar" was born - a global offshore financial market, transacting in dollars and allowing unlimited sums to be borrowed and lent, but under the control of no single state. No act of Parliament (or Congress) sanctioned the decision. There was no thoughtful policy-making, no careful debate.

Success of the Eurodollar

The Treasury was at first left in the dark. But within years the implications were obvious - this could revive the City of London's fortunes.

"By the time the Treasury figured it out, they thought, 'this is good business for the City'," said Prof Palan.

Banks from all around the world could borrow and lend in dollars without being subject to US tax or banking regulations - making banking in dollars more profitable out of London than out of Wall Street.

Offshore banks didn't have to hold money in reserve for every dollar they lent (as they would in the US), which would dramatically cut their costs.

While transactions were arranged in London, the lenders and borrowers could be registered anywhere. But the parties to Eurodollar transactions needed addresses.

So, zero-tax jurisdictions from the Cayman Islands to the Montserrat were used by London's investment banks as the official tax residences of their wealthy customers.

Clients could avoid both tax and undesirable scrutiny - for example from the US tax authorities.

In the British Overseas Territories, local laws were passed to attract more registration business, collecting modest fees that mounted up. No need for a bank branch out there - just a drawer in an offshore lawyer's filing cabinet.

The City of London began its recovery to become the centre of finance it is today

Howls of protest from the US government were ignored. Between 1960 and 1970, the size of the Eurodollar market went from $1bn to $46bn.

In the 1970s, countries rich in petrodollars from soaring oil prices were faced with a dilemma: repatriate the money to New York - where they would be taxed on it - or keep it offshore.

By 1980, the so-called Eurodollar market was worth more than half a trillion.

After the deregulation of the City of London in the 1986 "Big Bang", US banks joined in, setting up in London.

And as the 1990s and 2000s progressed, it became the undisputed global centre for foreign currency trading.

Not for the weather

Banks' wealthy individual and corporate clients didn't incorporate in the Cayman Islands or the British Virgin Islands because they liked the weather there - many never visited.

Offshore centres were attractive to businesses looking to reduce their tax bill, but sometimes, more importantly, to avoid what they regarded as excessive regulation.

Cayman Islands-registered companies were used heavily, for example, by the energy giant Enron as it built its business model based on fraudulent accounts.

Tax-free, light regulation jurisdictions, including the Bahamas, the Cayman Islands and Delaware in the US, became the corporate locations of choice for legitimate hedge funds.

They were also used to incorporate the vehicles at the heart of the global financial crisis - the 'structured investment vehicles' that did not show up on bank's balance sheets and bought billions of mortgage-backed securities, massively increasing the unnoticed risks in the global financial system which led to the crisis of 2008.

Likewise, the British Virgin Islands has been used by many legitimate businesses. It has also become the favourite secrecy jurisdiction for clients of the Panama-based law firm exposed in last year's Panama Papers revelations, Mossack Fonseca.

Since those revelations, governments around the world have pledged to improve transparency with measures such as automatic information sharing and registers of beneficial owners of offshore companies.

Many of those measures are yet to be enacted or tested.

But as the Paradise Papers are now confirming, the secrets of Britain's offshore empire are no longer quite so safe.

Do we really want post-Brexit Britain to be the world’s biggest tax haven?

Molly Scott Cato in The Guardian

Of all my political activities in the European parliament my work on challenging tax-dodging by wealthy individuals and corporations is perhaps the area where the most has been achieved.

Yet as a British MEP it has been a constant source of embarrassment to learn the central role played by the City of London and the UK’s overseas territories in the network of tax havens that facilitate a tiny minority to live beyond tax law.

Amber Rudd facing calls to clarify involvement in tax havens


This was first demonstrated by the Panama Papers and now confirmed by theBahamas leaks. I am left wondering, in post-EU referendum Britain, whether we will see the UK government challenge or collude with this tax-avoidance industry. If the response to the discovery that home secretary Amber Rudd was previously director of two asset-management companies based in the Bahamas is anything to go by, alarm bells should be ringing.

My own attempts to challenge Rudd have led me to believe that rightwing media figures, along with the Conservative government and the banks, are keener to shut down legitimate lines of inquiry on tax dodging than they are to shut down tax havens.

This was most clearly demonstrated to me during an interview with Andrew Neil on the Daily Politics show. Neil defended Rudd’s actions on the grounds there was no proof she had done anything illegal. Yet the whole purpose of tax havens is to allow the wealthy to hide behind a wall of secrecy legally.

Indeed, we only know of Rudd’s past career because of the Bahamas leaks. When asked in interview some months ago if she had money in any offshore trusts, Rudd replied that she didn’t. She also defended David Cameron over his father’s investment fund in the Bahamas that was exposed by the Panama Papers. At least Cameron had the defence that the decision to set up a trust in the Bahamas was taken by his father. It was Rudd’s own decision to become embroiled in two offshore companies in the Bahamas, something she failed to disclose.

Generally, people do not set up companies in the Bahamas to enjoy the subtropical climate. They are more likely drawn there by the fact the islands demand no income, corporate or wealth taxes from individuals investing in offshore companies. No evidence has emerged that Rudd herself or the companies avoided paying tax but at the very least, a fuller statement explaining the purpose of the directorships and whether she personally profited from them seems reasonable.

Unless Rudd makes such a statement it is difficult to see how Theresa May can continue to have confidence in her as home secretary. During her short leadership campaign and on the steps of No 10, May spoke noble words about the need to turn Britain into a country that works for the many, not the few. This is precisely the opposite of what tax havens do. They are a system used by a tiny elite composed of the super-wealthy precisely to avoid contributing their fair share to society.

So is Rudd on the side of the many, whose services have been cut to the bone because of insufficient tax revenues, or is she on the side of the wealthy few who avoid paying taxes?

Follow the money: inside the world's tax havens



Far from being a sideshow, what some are calling Ruddgate goes to the heart of the question of what type of society we want in the wake of the EU referendum. Will we follow the lead taken by Europe in promoting fair taxation, most notably demonstrated in recent weeks by EU competition commissioner Margrethe Vestager, who ordered Apple to pay €13bn in back taxes? Or will we follow the route being pushed by some hard-Brexit supporters and become one of the globe’s leading tax havens? The answer depends on the actions we take now, and whether we have the courage to demand the highest standards of those who govern our country.

The European parliament’s committee investigating the Panama Papers leaks already has the chancellor Philip Hammond, his predecessor Osborne and former prime minister David Cameron on our invitation list. Following the latest revelations, we will be adding the name of the home secretary.

Trusts keep wealth in the hands of the few. It’s time to stop this tax abuse

Richard Murphy in The Guardian

If there is a name that is synonymous with tax avoidance in the UK, it is that of the Duke of Westminster. The duke in question was, admittedly, the second duke, who in 1936 won an infamous tax case that permitted him to pay his gardeners in a way that avoided a tax liability. He achieved abiding fame as a consequence of the opinion of Lord Tomlin, who in his judgment on that case said: “Every man is entitled if he can to order his affairs so that the tax attracted under the appropriate act is less than it otherwise would be. If he succeeds in ordering them so as to secure this result, then, however unappreciative the commissioners of Inland Revenue or his fellow taxpayers may be of his ingenuity, he cannot be compelled to pay an increased tax.”

That statement has, to a large degree, been both the foundation of and justification for all tax avoidance activity in the UK since. That this activity continues is evidenced by the fact that the sixth duke is said to have left an estate worth £9.9bn upon his death this week to his son and yet, despite the fact that inheritance tax is supposedly payable on all estates on death worth more than £325,000, it has been widely reported that very little tax will be due in this case. It seems that the sixth duke has put the second to shame: his forebear saved a few pounds on his wages bill while the sixth has avoided something approaching £4bn. He may in the process have even outdone the fifth duke, who argued the fourth duke died of a war wound 232 years after he suffered it to escape all charges on the estate in the 1960s.

His likely motives for doing so can be easily summarised: there may be greed involved; a belief that the duke’s heirs are better entitled to this property than anyone else; and a hostility to any claim that the state might make on property that has been apparent in the UK aristocracy since the time of the Crusades.

The English legal concept of a trust is believed to have been developed during that era, when knights departing the country with no certainty of returning wanted to ensure that their land passed to those who they thought to be their rightful heirs without interference from the Crown. Trusts achieved that goal and the concept has remained in existence ever since, representing the continual struggle of those with wealth to subvert the rule of law that may apply to others but that they believe should not apply to them.

Recent political challenges have not ended the resulting abuse. Labour tried to introduce effective tax charges on inheritance in the 1970s, the Conservatives undermined them a decade later, and every subsequent attempt to tackle tax abuse using trusts (and Gordon Brown made many), has by and large left existing arrangements intact, only seeking to prevent abuse in new arrangements. As if to add insult to injury, the 2013 general anti-abuse rule, which was introduced by the coalition government and supposedly negated the decision by Lord Tomlin noted above, cannot be applied retrospectively: anything done by a duke before that date is outside of its scope.

So why has this tax avoidance been allowed to continue? First, it’s because no one in the UK has, since 1980, had the political will to tackle the use and abuse of trusts – even though continental Europe has shown it is perfectly possible to run an economy without them. Second, it’s down to the continuing power of the aristocracy and their chosen professional agents (lawyers, accountants, bankers and wealth managers) who have been willing to compromise themselves in exchange for fees to perpetuate the situation. And third, it’s because the Conservatives, in particular, have been keen to let the situation continue unchanged as they support the largely unfettered inheritance of substantial wealth. 

Another issue is that we know so little about trusts even when they are at least as powerful as companies and are even more commonly used for tax abuse. This is because of a mistaken perception of privacy, which should only be due to individuals and not artificial arrangements created by law, which trusts are. This can be corrected: we need transparency and that means a full register of trusts and their accounts on public record above modest financial limited, as for companies.

What can be done about this? In addition to the points already noted, the obvious solution is to abolish the inheritance tax reliefs that permit this tax avoidance, whether that be for trusts themselves or for those who own private companies and agricultural land. Inheritance tax assumes that the children of the wealthy are the rightful best next generation of managers of these assets and so lets them be passed on to them tax free, perpetuating wealth concentration in the process.

To put it another way, 800 years of claims by an elite to be above the law applicable to everyone else so that wealth can remain in the hands of the few has to be brought to an end. And if now is not the time to do it, I am really not sure when it will be.

Offshore finance: more than £12tn siphoned out of emerging countries

Analysis shows £1.3tn of assets from Russia sitting offshore, as David Cameron prepares to host anti-corruption summit.

 

Russian banknotes. A detailed 18-month research project has uncovered a sharp increase in the capital flowing offshore from developing countries, in particular Russia and China. Photograph: Maxim Zmeyev/Reuters


Heather Stewart in The Guardian


More than $12tn (£8tn) has been siphoned out of Russia, China and other emerging economies into the secretive world of offshore finance, new research has revealed, as David Cameron prepares to host world leaders for an anti-corruption summit.

A detailed 18-month research project has uncovered a sharp increase in the capital flowing offshore from developing countries, in particular Russia and China.

David Cameron under pressure to end tax haven secrecy



The analysis, carried out by Columbia University professor James S Henry for the Tax Justice Network, shows that by the end of 2014, $1.3tn of assets from Russia were sitting offshore. The figures, which came from compiling and cross-checking data from global institutions including the International Monetary Fund and the United Nations, follow the Panama Papers revelations of global, systemic tax avoidance.

Chinese citizens have $1.2tn stashed away in tax havens, once estimates for Hong Kong and Macau are included. Malaysia, Thailand, and Indonesia – all of which have seen high-profile corruption scandals in recent years – also come high on the list of the worst-affected countries.

Henry, a former chief economist at consultancy McKinsey, told the Guardian his research underlines the fact that tax-dodging is not the only motivation for using tax havens – criminals and kleptocrats also make prolific use of their services, to keep their wealth secret, and their money safe. He said the list of users of offshore jurisdictions is like the cantina scene in Star Wars, where a motley group of unsavoury intergalactic characters is assembled. Henry said: “It’s like the Star Wars scene: you have the tax dodgers in one corner, the arms dealers in another, the kleptocrats over here. There’s also those using tax havens for money laundering, or fraud.”

Oil-rich countries including Nigeria and Angola feature as key sources of offshore funds, the research finds, as do Brazil and Argentina. Henry said the owners of this hidden capital are often so keen to secure secrecy and avoid their wealth being appropriated back home, that they are willing to accept paltry financial returns rather than investing it in ways that might promote economic development. Charging just 1% tax on this mountain of offshore wealth would yield more than $120bn a year — almost equivalent to the entire $131bn global aid budget.

The TJN is urging Cameron to push for agreement on a series of issues at this week’s summit, including a tougher crackdown on the banks, lawyers and other professionals who facilitate financial secrecy; and an obligation on all politicians to make their personal financial situation transparent.

The prime minister published a summary of his tax affairs last month, after the Panama Papers leaks revealed that his father had set up an investment fund, Blairmore, based in the offshore jurisdiction of Panama.

Henry argued that when senior figures in authoritarian states such as China use tax havens to guard their money safely, they are effectively free-riding on the legal and financial systems of other countries. “All of these felons and kleptocrats are in a way essentially dependent on the rule of law when it comes to protecting their money,” he said.

He said it was not just exotic locations such as the Cayman Islands where money can effectively be hidden, but also some US states, such as Delaware, where it is possible for foreign investors to start up and run a company without making clear its ultimate ownership – something all UK firms will have to do from later this year.

It's obvious that Jeremy Corbyn is the real tax dodger – that's why he paid more tax than he owed

Now we know that the Labour leader has 'taken £1.5m from the state'. Thank goodness we have intrepid investigative reporters who can multiply his salary by 34

Mark Steel in The Independent

Jeremy Corbyn filed his tax return late AFP


It was highly moving to hear our Prime Minister explain that the reason he gave misleading answers about benefiting from offshore tax arrangements was because he was angry with comments made about his dad. It makes you realise that, when it comes to tax avoidance, the Camerons are the real victims.

Offshore tax deals may deprive the country of billions of pounds, but that’s only money. Insulting comments are made about your father, such as ‘did you benefit from his offshore tax account?’ would make anyone get angry and confused, and spend all week implying you didn’t benefit when you did.

I remember when someone asked me if my dad liked bananas, and for the next month I told everyone I was the world discus throwing champion. Being devious was a natural reaction to the anger.

How dare people spread smears such as ‘he set up an offshore company in the Bahamas’, when the only evidence he did any such thing was that he’d set up an offshore company in the Bahamas. Some people even insinuated the reason the millions of pounds were placed in the Bahamas was to avoid tax. But there are many other valid explanations, such as the need to keep the money warm.

But now, at last, some people are directing questions at the real tax dodger: Jeremy Corbyn. According to the Daily Telegraph, Corbyn has “taken £1.5m from the state”, and the sneaky method he’s used is to “make this from his salary as an MP” (over 34 years).

Another MP is quoted as saying this revelation is “remarkable.” Thankfully there are dedicated journalists prepared to root out this astonishing figure – by multiplying his annual salary by 34. We must be grateful to those gallant crusaders prepared to go to such lengths to expose this scandal.

But this is only the start. Further investigations reveal if Corbyn lives another 80,000 years, and remains an MP for that time, he’ll have taken more off the state than the entire defence budget of Argentina. Even more remarkable, compared to someone travelling on a rocket flying at close to the speed of light, his week would last as long as one of their minutes, meaning he could make a million pounds EVERY SPACEMAN DAY.

That’s socialists for you.

Having published his tax returns, it also emerged Corbyn was fined for sending in his accounts late, which David Cameron tried to make a joke about. This was reassuring because it suggests he’s got over the deep trauma he suffered last week. And you can understand his point: as any businessman knows, it’s far better to be paid nothing on time rather than the right amount a week late.

It also turns out Corbyn paid too much tax, having stated he earned more than he did. We could quibble about the too much/too little detail – but he paid the wrong amount. This seems to be the Conservative argument about tax avoidance: we’re all up to it in our own way, so if you give your son three quid for mowing the lawn without paying VAT, you’re no different to an investment banker squirreling £10bn in the Virgin Isles so he can keep the lot and buy a Rembrandt to use as a dishcloth.

If you express discontent about it, you’re asked ‘do you have an ISA, because THAT’S tax avoidance’? I suppose it is. If you buy an apple rather than spending that money on a house, you’re sneakily avoiding stamp duty. Who are you to complain about Google?

And, as they insist, none of these people named have done anything illegal. That may be because the characters using accountants in Panama were rich to start with, so they could afford to employ an army of lawyers and accountants to make sure their avoidance was legal. If burglars had those resources, they’d inform a specialist firm about a house they were planning to rob so it could be registered in an archipelago off Alaska where it’s legal to walk off with someone’s telly and do a dump on their carpet.

But the saddest part of this story, as many Conservatives have suggested, is that if we’re going to be such sticklers over people in public life and where they put their £10m, we risk putting decent tax avoiders off from offering their services to the state. For example, William Hague said if Winston Churchill had to be open about his accounts, he wouldn’t have stayed in politics.

That’s possible – although it may be that he’d have stayed in politics and paid his tax. Or he might have said: “I was planning to warn about the perils of Hitler, then if necessary become Prime Minister and oppose the attempted fascist domination of Europe. But if I’m expected to pay the legal tax rate, I don’t see why I should bother.”

This only shows the slippery slope we go down if we insist our politicians stick to the same rules as everyone else.

If we expect them not to drive at 120 mph the wrong way down a motorway, or set fire to public buildings or sacrifice llamas in the woods in Satanic rituals, we’ll simply deter the high quality individuals we need.

Change the law on limited liability to control boardroom greed

Boardroom greed: how to bring an errant multinational to heel

Changing the law on limited liability is the nuclear option, but it could force errant firms to repent

• 
• • Larry Elliott
  • The Guardian, Friday 12 December 2014

'The banks, the ­multinational tech companies and the giants of the energy sector are even more powerful than the unions were four decades ago.' Photograph: Matthew Lloyd/Getty Images

Roll the clock back 36 years. It is December 1978 and the so-called winter of discontent is in its early stages. Over the next couple of months the papers will be full of stories about rubbish piling up in the streets and of cancer patients failing to receive treatment. Britain is gripped by widespread industrial action, but public support for strikes is crumbling.

A few months later, in May 1979, a new government arrives in power. Despite failed attempts in the recent past, it decides that something must be done to curb the power of organised labour. Self-regulation has failed, the administration of Margaret Thatcher decides. It is time to use the power of the state to end abuses.

Bit by bit over the next decade the trade unions are systematically weakened. When it comes to the crunch they are not nearly as powerful as they think they are.

So what is the difference between the trade unions in the 1970s and the big corporations today? If anything, the banks, the multinational tech companies and the giants of the energy sector are even more powerful than the unions were four decades ago. And like the unions of yesteryear, business has had opportunities to put its own house in order – and spurned them. For the union general secretary telling Harold Wilson or Jim Callaghan what his members will and will not wear, read the chief executive thumbing his nose at David Cameron or George Osborne.

Meanwhile, the list of corporate scandals is getting longer. We’ve had horsemeat passed off as beef; the rigging of the foreign exchange market; the mis-selling of payment protection insurance; aggressive tax avoidance through webs of offshore shell companies; sweetheart deals between multinationals and Luxembourg. Only yesterday, the Financial Conduct Authority said some pension companies were screwing pensioners by failing to provide them with the best deals on offer.

Meanwhile, the Federation of Small Businesses said a fifth of its member companies had been subject to the bullying demands of big corporations, with many pushed to breaking pointas a result.

Make no mistake, the scandals are damaging. After a parliament marked by times of austerity and falling living standards, trust in executives to do anything but look after their own selfish interests is at a low ebb. Energy companies and banks are as popular with the public as the trade unions were during the winter of discontent. A government that decided to curb corporate power would not lack support from the voters. Osborne’s “Google tax” on the diverted profits of multinationals was the single most popular policy in last week’s autumn statement.

There are, though, differences between now and 1979. One is that the big multinational companies are more powerful than the trade unions were. Another is that Thatcher had a clear idea about what she wanted, whereas today there is no real blueprint for reform.

All this week the Guardian has been trying to fill that vacuum. Our series on taming corporate power is designed to explode the myth that there is nothing that could be done to affect boardroom behaviour. It’s not the ideas that are lacking, it’s the political will to persevere with a process that will be long and difficult.

Step number one should be to use the existing powers of the state, which even in this era of globalisation and footloose capital are considerable. Ministers can break up monopolies, insist that the investment arms of banks are severed from their retail operations and force companies to pay a living wage when they receive public contracts. They should use these powers and add to them. Pharmaceutical companies have to prove that any new drugs they market will not harm the public; the same test should be applied to new products developed by the financial sector.

Step number two involves redressing the imbalance of power between capital and labour. Those troubled by the growing gap between rich and poor, or by the relentless squeeze on wages since the recession, need look no further for an explanation than the decline in trade union power. Evidence shows that those workers still covered by collective agreements earn higher wages, so one possible reform would be to set up new tripartite bodies for wage bargaining in certain sectors, such as contract cleaning.

A future Labour government could also do worse than to dust down the Bullock report from 1977, which called for greater employee participation in the running of companies, for the need to build trust within organisations and for the desirability of Britain learning from the industrial models of other European countries, Germany in particular. This might be done voluntarily, with companies offered the incentive of lower corporation tax for each worker representative on the board, or by statute.

Lower corporation tax is, of course, hardly an incentive for those companies that are paying virtually no corporation tax in the first place. Osborne is rightly frustrated that some multinationals do billions of pounds of business in the UK but still declare nugatory profits, despite the steady reduction in corporation tax. So, step number three involves ensuring that companies pay what is due. The key here is for governments to insist on country-by-country reporting by the Googles and Amazons of this world, because this would ensure that all multinationals would have to declare the countries in which they operated, what the company is called in each location, its financial performance in each country it does business (including inter-company trade), and how much tax it pays to each government. Companies would have to abide by an international financial reporting standard and provide information for all tax jurisdictions. Shining a light on the murkier activities of multinational companies is vital.

Finally, there’s the nuclear option: stripping companies of the protection provided by limited liability. The owners, the shareholders and those running companies wield enormous power but don’t bear full responsibility for their actions because their liability is limited to the size of their investment in a company or partnership. But limited liability is a privilege not a right, and in return for granting it society should get something back in return. The argument the Thatcher government used when it said employers could sue unions for damages caused by strikes was that there was no such thing as a something-for-nothing world, and the same argument applies to companies.

The deal should be that companies get the protection limited liability provides in return for looking after all their stakeholders: the workers they employ, the customers they serve, the companies that form their supply chains, the taxpayers who pay for the transport infrastructure and the education system that businesses require. The deal should not be limited liability in return for boardroom greed, running rings round the taxman and breaking the law.

As Prem Sikka said in this series, any change to limited liability would be fiercely resisted. But even the suggestion of change would concentrate minds. Imagine, for example, that a future government set up a royal commission to look into the issue. Would this lead to companies treating their staff better and paying more tax? You bet it would.

Forget austerity – what we need is a stronger state and more taxation

The income tax system needs reshaping. This is not easy. But nor is reducing the state to its smallest level for 80 years

• 
• • Will Hutton
  • The Observer, Sunday 7 December 2014

The March of the Unemployed from the Thames Embankment to County Hall, Westminster, during the Great Depression. Photograph: Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis

If the Conservative party forms the next government, by 2020 the state will probably be the smallest it has been – in relation to GDP – for 80 years. So declared the Office for Budget Responsibility last Wednesday, in the wake of the autumn statement. By 2020, spending per head of population will have fallen by around a third in 10 years. In some areas – in our cities and our criminal justice system – the reductions will be even more draconian. This is the most dramatic change in state capability that any British government has ever engineered.

The chancellor may complain about the “hyperbolic” tone of some BBC reporting. But surely only in a one-party state would this dramatic plan not be discussed in appropriately dramatic terms. Britain is to become the site of a massive experiment in economic and social libertarianism whose authors have never fessed up to the sheer audacity and scale of what they are doing. They have just dumbly insisted there is no alternative. The autumn statement was the moment the implications became clear.

A financial crisis has been allowed to morph into a crisis of public provision because the government of the day will not lift a finger to compensate for the haemorrhaging of the UK tax base. What the state does is not the subject of a collective decision with concerned weighing of options. Instead, it’s an afterthought, with the greater priorities a reduction in public borrowing and freezing or lowering tax rates.

All the state can spend is what is left after those two greater priorities are met, and if it has to shrink to pre-modern levels then so be it. The market will provide: charity will alleviate suffering; people will get by; the roof will not fall in. Lifting taxation can never be considered to close the gap. It is, it is alleged, both economically self-defeating and immoral.

A cool £54bn has gone missing since 2010. Then the government projected that in 2014/15 its total tax revenues would be £700bn. In fact, they will be £646bn, according to the OBR. Public spending, on the other hand, has behaved almost exactly as forecast. In 2010, the government projected that its spending would be £738bn in this financial year. The Treasury is to be congratulated on its capacities as national book-keeper in chief. The actual figure is £737bn, an accuracy I doubt many private companies could reproduce – or even individual readers of the Observer. It is not runaway public spending that is causing borrowing to stay stubbornly high, thus triggering the extreme shrinkage of the state: it is the hollowing out of the tax base.

There are three principal causes. The first is that the structure of the economic recovery is delivering a reduced tax yield. There are too many low-paying jobs and pay on average is stagnating, so that aggregate income tax revenues are growing much less rapidly than in previous recoveries. We are drinking and smoking less, so there is less revenue from alcohol and tobacco duties. Altogether this accounts for around a third of the shortfall.

Another third is a result of the chancellor wanting to show his tax-cutting credentials as a true Thatcherite man: he has cut corporate tax rates, frozen the business rate, not adjusted council tax bands upwards, not increased petrol duties, lowered the top rate of tax and increased personal allowances. The last element is down to our living with an epidemic of tax avoidance and evasion, as the last G20 summit recognised – and which even Osborne says he deplores. Too many companies and rich individuals are gaming the system.

Put all this together and Britain has lost that £54bn. But matters are made worse by the interaction of Britain’s highly centralised Treasury and a chancellor with Osborne’s instincts. Giles Wilkes, former adviser to Vince Cable, and Stian Westlake, research director at Nesta, write in an important paper, The End of the Treasury, that the Treasury inverts the way that spending and taxing decisions should be made. It starts with a target for borrowing, not differentiating great capital projects such as London’s Crossrail from spending on the NHS. Then it projects tax revenues assuming no changes, and sets aside money for fixed obligations, such as pensions.

Finally, departments fight over the left-overs on a year by year basis, with the Treasury policing spending with a ferocious rigidity. The benefit is that it can control spending to the last billion. The cost is that there is never a weighing up of the benefits of raising taxes against a particular use for public spending, nor any strategic long-term programme of investment.

This is bad enough in ordinary times, but when a chancellor refuses to consider raising taxes as the tax base collapses it is a recipe for disaster. It results in a minimal state, with implications for prisons, schools, courts, policing, legal aid, care, security and defence that are profound. Some of this could be avoided if, as both Labour and the LibDems propose, capital investment was not lumped in with current spending so that virtuous borrowing could be separated out. The country may also get lucky: wages stop stagnating and income tax receipts rise.

But the bigger truth is that if Britain wants the scale of public activity congruent with a civilised society, it has to be paid for. The reaction will be hysterical, but lifting taxes by 3% of GDP to 38.5% to find the missing £54bn will still leave Britain below the crucial 40% benchmark, thus undertaxed by comparison with most advanced countries. The whole system of property taxation needs overhauling. The VAT base can be broadened. Environmental taxes can be extended. Osborne’s proposals to ensure companies pay tax on UK revenues need to be tougher and introduced earlier. The income tax system needs reshaping.

None of this is easy. But neither is reducing the state to its smallest level for 80 years. Reducing spending on schools further is surely short changing our children. How much smaller should the army, navy and air force become? Is the welfare system to return to a system of discretionary poor relief? Do we share the libertarian view that the state is worthless – and there is no co-dependency between public and private? What role do we want the state to have in our civilisation? The right would have it that none of these questions can be asked because all involve an increase in taxation: our only future is a 1930s scale state.

There is a different future, and our politicians of the centre and left have to argue for it, but they must accept it has to be paid for. This has become an existential divide. Politics and political argument have never mattered more.

Globalisation isn't just about profits. It's about taxes too

Big corporates are gaming one nation's taxpayers against another's: we need a global deal to make them pay their way

• 
• • Joseph Stiglitz
  • The Guardian, Monday 27 May 2013 21.00 BST

Why should German taxpayers help bail out a country whose business model is based on avoidance and a race to the bottom? Illustration by Daniel Pudles

The world looked on agog as Tim Cook, the head of Apple, said his company had paid all the taxes owed – seeming to say that it paid all the taxes it should have paid. There is, of course, a big difference between the two. It's no surprise that a company with the resources and ingenuity of Apple would do what it could to avoid paying as much tax as it could within the law. While the supreme court, in its Citizens United case seems to have said that corporations are people, with all the rights attendant thereto, this legal fiction didn't endow corporations with a sense of moral responsibility; and they have the Plastic Man capacity to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time – to be everywhere when it comes to selling their products, and nowhere when it comes to reporting the profits derived from those sales.

Apple, like Google, has benefited enormously from what the US and other western governments provide: highly educated workers trained in universities that are supported both directly by government and indirectly (through generous charitable deductions). The basic research on which their products rest was paid for by taxpayer-supported developments – the internet, without which they couldn't exist. Their prosperity depends in part on our legal system – including strong enforcement of intellectual property rights; they asked (and got) government to force countries around the world to adopt our standards, in some cases, at great costs to the lives and development of those in emerging markets and developing countries. Yes, they brought genius and organisational skills, for which they justly receive kudos. But while Newton was at least modest enough to note that he stood on the shoulders of giants, these titans of industry have no compunction about being free riders, taking generously from the benefits afforded by our system, but not willing to contribute commensurately. Without public support, the wellspring from which future innovation and growth will come will dry up – not to say what will happen to our increasingly divided society.

It is not even true that higher corporate tax rates would necessarily significantly decrease investment. As Apple has shown, it can finance anything it wants to with debt – including paying dividends, another ploy to avoid paying their fair share of taxes. But interest payments are tax deductible – which means that to the extent that investment is debt-financed, the cost of capital and returns are both changed commensurately, with no adverse effect on investment. And with the low rate of taxation on capital gains, returns on equity are treated even more favorably. Still more benefits accrue from other details of the tax code, such as accelerated depreciation and the tax treatment of research and development expenditures.

It is time the international community faced the reality: we have an unmanageable, unfair, distortionary global tax regime. It is a tax system that is pivotal in creating the increasing inequality that marks most advanced countries today – with America standing out in the forefront and the UK not far behind. It is the starving of the public sector which has been pivotal in America no longer being the land of opportunity – with a child's life prospects more dependent on the income and education of its parents than in other advanced countries.

Globalisation has made us increasingly interdependent. These international corporations are the big beneficiaries of globalisation – it is not, for instance, the average American worker and those in many other countries, who, partly under the pressure from globalisation, has seen his income fully adjusted for inflation, including the lowering of prices that globalisation has brought about, fall year after year, to the point where a fulltime male worker in the US has an income lower than four decades ago. Our multinationals have learned how to exploit globalisation in every sense of the term – including exploiting the tax loopholes that allow them to evade their global social responsibilities.

The US could not have a functioning corporate income tax system if we had elected to have a transfer price system (where firms "make up" the prices of goods and services that one part buys from another, allowing profits to be booked to one state or another). As it is, Apple is evidently able to move profits around to avoid Californian state taxes. The US has developed a formulaic system, where global profits are allocated on the basis of employment, sales and capital goods. But there is plenty of room to further fine-tune the system in response to the easier ability to shift profits around when a major source of the real "value-added" is intellectual property.

Some have suggested that while the sources of production (value added) are difficult to identify, the destination is less so (though with reshipping, this may not be so clear); they suggest a destination-based system. But such a system would not necessarily be fair – providing no revenues to the countries that have borne the costs of production. But a destination system would clearly be better than the current one.

Even if the US were not rewarded for its global publicly supported scientific contributions and the intellectual property built on them, at least the country would be rewarded for its unbridled consumerism, which provides incentives for such innovation. It would be good if there could be an international agreement on the taxation of corporate profits. In the absence of such an agreement, any country that threatened to impose fair corporate taxes would be punished – production (and jobs) would be taken elsewhere. In some cases, countries can call their bluff. Others may feel the risk is too high. But what cannot be escaped are customers.

The US by itself could go a long way to moving reform along: any firm selling goods there could be obliged to pay a tax on its global profits, at say a rate of 30%, based on a consolidated balance sheet, but with a deduction for corporate profits taxes paid in other jurisdictions (up to some limit). In other words, the US would set itself up as enforcing a global minimum tax regime. Some might opt out of selling in the US, but I doubt that many would.

The problem of multinational corporate tax avoidance is deeper, and requires more profound reform, including dealing with tax havens that shelter money for tax-evaders and facilitate money-laundering. Google and Apple hire the most talented lawyers, who know how to avoid taxes staying within the law. But there should be no room in our system for countries that are complicitous in tax avoidance. Why should taxpayers in Germany help bail out citizens in a country whose business model was based on tax avoidance and a race to the bottom – and why should citizens in any country allow their companies to take advantage of these predatory countries?

To say that Apple or Google simply took advantage of the current system is to let them off the hook too easily: the system didn't just come into being on its own. It was shaped from the start by lobbyists from large multinationals. Companies like General Electric lobbied for, and got, provisions that enabled them to avoid even more taxes. They lobbied for, and got, amnesty provisions that allowed them to bring their money back to the US at a special low rate, on the promise that the money would be invested in the country; and then they figured out how to comply with the letter of the law, while avoiding the spirit and intention. If Apple and Google stand for the opportunities afforded by globalisation, their attitudes towards tax avoidance have made them emblematic of what can, and is, going wrong with that system.