Does anybody else out there talk to the telly while watching it?
Scully and Mulder are investigating a seemingly empty stronghold of the Secret US Government Conspiracy. They go through a door into a dark building, but leave it open behind them – as much as to say to the murderous paramilitaries that the government employs to protect these places – ‘We’re in here!’
So naturally I say ‘Close the door behind you Scully, or the goons with submachine guns will get you!’
And sure enough, in rush the gun-laden goons, shooting everywhere. But miraculously, again, they don’t manage to hit our two heros, who escape – again – but without any evidence of the murderous conspiracy – again.
Doctor Who is walking through a storeroom of mannequins and stops to examine something. Obviously, one of the mannequins is going to come to life and attack him, but he doesn’t think of that, so engrossed is he in what he is examining. So, as a mannequin comes to life and starts to sneak up on the Doctor, I helpfully call out:
‘Look behind you!’
Which he does, not soon enough to avoid being grabbed, but soon enough to wriggle out of the predator’s grasp and run away.
I can think of plenty of other examples, but not closing doors behind you and not putting your back to the wall when you’re in a dangerous place are the two ones that incite me the most.
Then there’s the one where key characters in a show, that are supposed to engage the watcher’s sympathies, make a trademark practice of buying coffee in single-use, non-recyclable cups, walk along with them chatting to each other but not drinking, and then throw the apparently full cup in a bin. Yes it might be worse if they threw it on the ground, but not by much! So I expostulate:
‘Buy a Keep-cup* Lorelei, ya environmental vandal!’
*Reusable coffee cup. Probably TM like hoovers and biros and band-aids and xeroxes.
And the one where somebody says something that they don’t realise is upsetting for another person. Like when person A says to person B, who had believed an as-yet unacknowledged romantic bond was beginning to develop between them, ‘I never thought I could have a best mate that was a girl’.
So I helpfully inform him ‘She doesn’t want to be that sort of a mate, you blind poltroon!’
Do you do that too? Perhaps only when there is nobody else around? Or do you do it regardless? Or are you one of those people that bottles up their fears, irritations and sympathies vis à vis the characters and keeps them inside?
I like talking to TV characters. It makes me feel like I have a relationship with them. A self-help guru might say I should concentrate on relationships with real people, but I think you can do both. And I don’t know any real people that are time lords or government conspiracy uncoverers. Sadly, I do know plenty of people that waste our resources and exacerbate the landfill problem by drinking coffee in non-reusable cups, but they seem immune to my hints that there is a better solution.
I have quite enjoyed watching telly recently. Perhaps it’s because the future of the world looks so black with the continuing rise of neo-fascism and the determination of governments of large, wealthy, ex-British colonies to do as little as possible to address the climate crisis (New Zealand being an honourable exception). There’s reading of course, but in my continuing attempts to get better at foreign languages, most of that is not in English, so it’s hard work. Which makes it so relaxing to just plonk on the couch for a while after work, in front of a silly, simple, comedy or drama that asks nothing of me but my attention (But NOT a reality TV show! My loathing of them is a whole ‘nother subject entirely!).
In days of yore, telly was seen by some as a brain-sapping, eye-damaging scourge. “it’ll give you square eyes!” was what my parents warned. Fortunately, I didn’t watch a great deal of telly when young, so my eyes are still approximately oval-shaped. My opthalmologist, with her specialised equipment, was able to advise me that there is a small amount of right-angling at the edges of two of my eyes, but it’s less than the average for people born in the TV era, so nothing to be concerned about.
These days it’s the internet, especially social media, that parents are worried about their children spending too much time on. Television is seen as relatively benign. Perhaps because it’s now old enough to be trusted. Or perhaps because watching telly, unlike staring at a computer screen, can be a social activity. Like in the old days of Victorian and Elizabethan theatre, we can hiss at the baddies and cheer (or warn) the goodies, lament the misfortunes, discuss what the real explanation of the mystery may be, or what the protagonist should have done when confronted with that Terrible Dilemma.
With the internet, everybody in a room can be sitting staring at their own little screen. They might as well be a million miles from the people around them. But with telly, the people in the room are watching it together, no matter how bad it is.
Is that a good thing?
Bondi Junction, October 2019
So I was riding to work, right? And I went around the corner on a shared path and came a little bit closer to a family of pedestrians than is ideal. I didn’t come very close, and wasn’t going fast. There was absolutely no danger, or even capacity to frighten, but you know, it’s best to give pedestrians a wide berth on a shared path, because it can be a bit scary when a bike comes near. At least I find it scary when a bike comes near me if I’m not ready for it.
Anyway, I sort of mumble something like ‘Sorry – a bit close’ as I go by and I just see this guy’s face – the father I reckon – looking at me calmly and waiting for me to pass.
My, what a patient guy, I think.
Then, because I can’t help imagining and catastrophising at the same time, I imagine what if he were like one of those alpha males that aggressively yells at anybody given the slightest opportunity, and he abused me? What would I say?
I thought, well I’d probably sheepishly mumble something like ‘Didn’t mean no harm mate’, which I didn’t, you know, and anyway I wasn’t that close, and it was a shared path.
But then it occurs to me that, in Australia ‘Mate’ is as often a challenge as it is an expression of fellow-feeling. Expressed with the right tone of voice at the beginning or end of a sentence, it often means ‘You stupid, quivering, pathetic excuse for a human being (that isn’t as manly as I am)’.
That would been almost the exact opposite of what I meant to convey to the man (who, let us remember, was patient and calm in real life). But that’s the trouble with the word ‘Mate’ here downunder.
Reactionary politicians love to talk about ‘mateship’ being a cornerstone of our culture, as if it’s a good thing. That’s weird. If it just means friendship then how is that specifically Australian? Don’t people in other countries have friends, and aren’t they kind and loyal to them as well? It makes as much sense to claim that as an Australian characteristic as it does for American nationalists to pretend they invented the concept of freedom.
No it means more, and yet less, than that. For a start it’s a specifically masculine term, even though they like to pretend it isn’t. Mateship is about drinking together in the pub until you can barely stand, and then not dobbing in your mate if, when he’s had a few too many, he drives a car, or belts his wife. There’s no room for women in mateship, and very little for non-Caucasians.
So I don’t like mateship, OK. I regard it as toxic, to use the word du jour. Nationalist zealots might say I go too far in my criticisms, but I say Yah, Boo, Sucks to them. Let’s stick with friendship, tolerance and compassion if we want to characterise how we aspire to relate to others.
I don’t like ‘Mate’, but I quite like ‘Comrade’. Partly because it seems so quaint and old fashioned. To me it conjures up Australian icons like Phillip Adams and Gough Whitlam. Round here it is redolent of a bygone age when brave, committed, idealistic (some might say deluded but I don’t think we’re in a position to judge) Australians believed in and worked for the Communist or Socialist dream that they saw as the only way to help the downtrodden, before Stalin, Mao, Ceaușescu and Pol Pot ruined it for us all.
Well they didn’t actually ruin it completely. They sullied it, and nobody wanted to touch it for a few decades. But now that we’re seeing the impact of über-capitalism around the world destroying cultures, livelihoods, employment and the environment, and face the prospect, with AI starting to take away all the jobs, of the world dividing into ten percent or less super-rich who own all the technology and the patents, and the rest are the unemployable, expendable poor…. Maybe now, it’s time to have another look at Comrade.
Now I understand that for people who lived in the Soviet bloc, the word Comrade may have the same horrible associations of aggression as Mate sometimes does in Australia. So maybe that’s not the right word. It would be OK here in Oz, but probably not in Russia (Tovarich) or Rostock (Kameradin / Kamerad).
I have another proposal though – Citizen.
I’ve been reading ‘The Gods Are Thirsty’ by Anatole France. It was written in early 19th century and is set in 1793, four years after the French Revolution and only months before the beginning of ‘the Terror’, the orgy of show trials and guillotinings led by Robespierre, in which 17,000 people were executed and another 10,000 died in prison.
That’s what people called each other after the French Revolution – Citizen (in French they said Citoyenne for women and Citoyen for men). Just as they called each other Comrade after the Russian Revolution.
Like Comrade, Citizen seems to have a connotation of working together, of shared civic responsibilities, that Mate doesn’t have. I like that. It’s nice to work together, rather than alone.
Shall we call one another Citizen, then?
But wait, what about those 27,000 dead in the French Terror? Did Citizen become just another term of passive aggressive bravado and bullying in the 1790s, just as Mate can be in Australia and maybe Comrade was in the 1930s Soviet Union?
Oh bother! Maybe we can’t call each other Citizen either.
What about ‘Friend’, then? That’s the sort of thing that wise old women and men call you in fantasy epics when you meet them on the deserted, long and winding roads through the wildlands. Surely that’s good isn’t it? Could we call each other that?
It can sound a bit creepy, I know. Like a stranger trying to insinuate themselves into your confidence. But is that just the product of the modern cynical mind? If we said Friend and meant it, and when it was said to us we accepted it as being meant as a genuine, friendly salutation, would it work? I think it might.
Sadly, it does remind me of another revolution though. Or perhaps this was more of a coup than a revolution – the seizure of power by Julius Caesar and his proclaiming himself emperor.
You know: “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears”.
Caesar was a fairly violent ruler – he invaded and slaughtered my ancestors for goodness sake! Everybody can find a story of colonisation and persecution of their ancestors if they go back far enough. But it only continues to mean anything if it’s recent enough to affect the memories or the life opportunities and prosperity of people whose ancestors were colonised and persecuted. And that’s not the case for me. Not even as regards the Norman invaders – bastards! And the even more recent English invaders of my Irish ancestors – double bastards! I know that some of my ancestors will have been colonisers of the other ancestors – the Romans, Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Vikings, Normans and English invaded and/or colonised the Britons, Anglo-Saxons and the Irish. But none of my current family were alive at the time of the persecutions, and my life opportunities have not been constrained by them, so I can’t complain.
What about Friend then? Does its association with Caesar and the aftermath of a coup make Friend yet another term that is tainted by association with brutishness?
Well now, I remember of a sudden that it was Shakespeare that wrote that bit about friends and ears, not Caesar. And in any case, Wikipedia tells me that it was Marc Antony, not Caesar, that uttered those words in the play.
So maybe Friend is OK.
Trouble is though, I don’t think I can quite carry it off. I am neither old enough nor wise enough to address people as Friend without appearing like a creep or a dangerous loon.
I think it will have to be Comrade after all. I’ll just be careful not to use it to address anybody that lived under Soviet oppression. And maybe I’ll make the odd switch to Citizen now and then when I want to sound sophisticated and cosmopolitan, provided I am sure there are no survivors of the Terror nearby to be offended by it.
Anything is better than Mate.
Perhaps Mate is okay as a non-sex-specific description of a life partner though, as in ‘puffins mate for life’, which is just so heart-warming, and how could anybody not love puffins? I’ve heard they are disgusting to eat, all oily, fishy and livery, like gelatinised cod liver oil. But that doesn’t worry me since I don’t eat any birds.
Goodbye for now, Comrades.
Bondi Junction, December 2018
I love Peanuts.
There’s a double entendre.
It could mean that I love ground nuts. I do, very much indeed. I can’t imagine living a life without nuts, especially without peanuts. They are the food of the gods.
Or it could mean that I love Charles M Schulz’s comic strip featuring Charlie Brown, Snoopy the beagle, Lucy the bossyboots and others. That is true too. I have some old books of Peanuts comic strips that I have had since I bought them at second-hand markets decades ago, and which I still really treasure.
One sequence of strips I was thinking of recently is when one of the characters – Linus, I think – was telling the others about haphephobia, which he explained in his overly earnest, nerdy way, was a fear of being touched. In one of those strips somebody accidentally almost touches Snoopy, who instantly leaps up metres into the air as an instinctive over-reaction.
I recalled this as I have been thinking recently about touch as a means of non-verbal communication, and how some people tend to touch others when they talk to them, while others assiduously avoid it. I’ll call the former ‘touchy’, pausing only to note that this has nothing in common with the occasional use of that word to mean short-tempered.
When I think about the people I know that are touchy, It seems that most of them are women. The most usual touch is on the forearm, or sometimes the elbow. I know one person who rubs the side of your arm around the elbow when you talk to her – a gesture that I find unusual, but heart-warming.
What do these touches mean? They seem to communicate reassurance, goodwill, perhaps an indication that, right at this point in time, you have their full attention. Whether that is the intended meaning I don’t know. Quite possibly there is no intended meaning. Touchy people seem to be more instinctive than others. Their words and actions stem from their un-self-conscious connection to the great cosmic flow – what Daoists call Wu Wei – rather than from premeditation.
In Anglo-Celtic culture, not many men touch, but some do. In my experience those that do tend to be matey about it, and are more likely to pat on the shoulder or the back than touch the forearm or hand. And they generally only pat other men.
I have habitually been a non-toucher. I don’t quite have haphephobia, but I have been known to flinch slightly when somebody unexpectedly touches me, or even comes close. I don’t know where it comes from. Freud would have us look to our childhood and, like almost every child growing up in the sixties and early seventies, I received plenty of corporal punishment when I was judged to have been naughty. My punishment was considerably lighter than that which many of my school friends told me about, and my parents never struck me on the head or anywhere that would cause any damage other than redness that lasted an hour or so. But nevertheless I can remember cringing before the blows that a parent was – with all the best intentions and believing that they were morally obliged to do this no matter how much they disliked doing it – about to deliver. Perhaps I cringed because I had a nervous disposition, or maybe my disposition became more nervous because of the punishment. I can’t tell. I do know that many of my contemporaries seemed to be less physically nervous than I, so I Imagine my genetic predisposition played at least some part in it.
Whatever the reason, I have not been good at being touched and have certainly not been a toucher. But recently this has been changing. Perhaps I have been listening to too many philosophy podcasts about ‘authenticity’ and about how relationships with others are the only real thing in the world. Whether with conscious effort or just because one tends to relax more as one matures, I have become more capable of tolerating unexpected touch without flinching.
But wait, there’s more!
I have, to my immense surprise, started to become, every now and then, a toucher. At first I surprised myself by, on occasion, gently tapping a forearm or a shoulder. Never on skin of course! We Anglo-Celtics need the reassurance of a shirt or jumper beneath our hand in order to feel that one is not being improper. Maybe some of the later taps were deliberate. It’s hard to tell. But even though some taps may have been pre-considered, the overall trend is not. There is no plan.
The forearms and shoulders that I find myself tapping or patting are exclusively those of men. I think that is partly deliberate and partly instinctive. I have had it so soundly drummed into me that any uninvited touch of a woman other than one’s life partner is not acceptable, that I have big unconscious barriers against ever doing that. In any case, in the current climate it seems wise to proscribe such actions to avoid the possibility of misinterpretation. It seems a pity, but that’s just one of many ways that the Harvey Weinsteins of the world have made things so much worse for others. I wonder what other people think about that, and whether it will change with time. At least many women feel no constraint against touching men to whom they are talking, as well as, of course, other women.
I have been surprised too, about how non-frightening and positive it can be to do a simple tap or pat. It is such an efficient way to communicate goodwill and support and, unlike supportive words, it doesn’t seem to run the risk of being interpreted as sarcastic. There’s so much sarcasm in the world. We don’t need people inferring it when it’s not there.
This gradual opening to the possibility of touch seems a good development. But there’s one Anglo-Celtic reservation I have that I don’t think will ever change. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tolerate a massage. It just creeps me out to much, people poking around in my neck muscles and such like. There are too many fragile parts in there that I feel are on the verge of getting damaged. And it’s too close to being tickled, which I never was keen on. I don’t know whether the childhood cringing from imminent punishment plays a part in it as well. Massages are supposed to make you relax but, for me, they do the opposite. Still, plenty of people like massages, so me not having any just means there are more for the rest of you.
A cynic might say ‘What’s the big deal? People touch skin to skin all the time in the business world, when they shake hands at the start of a meeting!’ That is true and, being in the business world, I do that as well, with nary a thought. But it doesn’t count, and you know it doesn’t count, you cynics! Shaking hands is a meaningless stylised ritual that has long passed its usefulness. They say it was originally invented in order to show somebody you met that you weren’t holding a weapon (an urban myth?). Except when visiting or living in the USA, I think that these days we can take as read the weaponlessness of those we meet. Plus it spreads germs. I sometimes wonder ‘What if I’m about to break out in a cold? I’d hate to give it to somebody else.’. We all know that the most infectious period with a cold is just before you realise you have one – or is that another urban myth? I admire the Japanese, who bow when meeting people for business, and then present business cards in a pleasingly formal way.
The point is that it’s the voluntariness of the unbidden touch that can make it so scary to do, or to receive. There’s nothing scary in what is mandated, as handshakes before business meetings are. Or, for that matter, the compulsory ballroom dancing lessons we had in senior high school, where we boys had to hold girls’ hands as we marched to and fro, then twirled them about, or twirled about them, whichever it was (I wasn’t terribly good at ballroom dancing). We were mostly too terrified even to talk to the girls at school, let alone touch them (we outnumbered them five to one so it seemed presumptuous to assume any of these rare and special humans would wish to hear anything we had to say), but when the dancing mistress fixes you with her beady eye and snaps ‘Take positions! Join hands! Go!’, you just obey.
This essay at one point had the word ‘sashayed’ in it (can you guess where?). But now it doesn’t. I think that’s an improvement.
Bondi Junction, August 2018
The other day, as I was walking down the street on my way to a meeting, I saw a young man walking the other way that I thought was a person that works in my office. He works on another floor so I don’t often see him. I was about to say hello when I was struck with uncertainty as to whether it was him, and held my tongue. I ruminated for the next minute or so, and finally decided that it wasn’t.
Why did I find it so hard to work that out?
Part of the reason was that I’m not so good at remembering the faces of people I don’t see regularly. But that didn’t seem enough to explain my confusion. There are plenty of people that I don’t meet often, but whom I can still recognise fairly easily.
In the end I decided it was because the person in question has very regular features – what you might call ‘clean cut’. You know: symmetrical face, unblemished skin, non-knobbly nose, average size of all main features and dimensions (nose, mouth, eyes, ears, forehead, chin), not fat, but not very thin either. The sort of face that might appear in an ad for razors or toothpaste.
People whose faces have lots of symmetry, conformance to averages, and lack of blemishes and knobbles have fewer distinguishing features. Take it to the extreme and a face becomes a featureless sphere. Adding two eyes, a mouth and a nose reduces the symmetry somewhat but, since nearly all humans have those, it doesn’t narrow down the field much. It’s only when the characteristics or location of those features differ materially from the average that we find something worthy of telling the police artist – thin lips, broad nose, close-set eyes, high forehead. What would the Identikit officer do with information that the burglar had average lips, average nose and average eyes?
It is sometimes said that human beauty has much to do with symmetry. Does that mean the reason I didn’t recognise my colleague is because he’s good-looking? Perhaps. Supermodels seem to score highly in the bodily symmetry stakes. I don’t think I could name one for whom I could identify an asymmetry. Although, to be fair, that may be because I would have trouble naming any supermodels at all. On my scale of rating the hundred things that interest me most, they don’t.
But are supermodels beautiful? Or are they just pretty, and if so, is that because they are too symmetrical, too featureless?
The American actor Ryan Gosling seems to be a popular heart-throb at the moment. His features are mostly pretty regular, but there’s something unusual about his eyes. I’m not sure what. I think they’re either unusually close-set or a little asymmetrical – perhaps a combination of both. But is that slight irregularity part of the reason that he is considered so desirable? Would he be less alluring if his eyes were evened up and spread out a bit – more average?
When I think of women that were considered very desirable amongst my peers over the last few decades, I see images of people who all had something slightly unusual about their features: Nastassja Kinski (big mouth), Emma Stone (large eyes), Sophia Loren (long nose). In my recent attempts to get better at speaking French I have been watching many French movies, and have noticed that many of their female stars in romantic roles have unusual features, a disproportionate this or that, or asymmetric something elses.
Could it be that featurelessness is the key factor in mere ‘prettiness’, so that pretty people (perhaps including my poor, blameless work colleague) all look fairly similar, whereas beauty is a complex melange of (just enough) symmetry with provocative asymmetries, irregularities and other distinguishing features?
People seem to love looking at pictures and videos of cute fluffy cats and dogs on the internet. Generally these animals are symmetric and healthy. One rarely sees people cooing over a scrappy, moth-eaten old dog or cat. Yet if one has had a scrappy, moth-eaten dog or cat as a pet for a long time, it will have a much stronger pull on our heartstrings than a pretty puppy in a tissue commercial. The irregularities (some might say flaws) become markers of recognition and triggers for affection, rather than items of deficiency or regret.
I wonder whether this phenomenon also displays itself in the field of moral beauty. There’s am unfortunate culture trope about the girl who only goes out with boys that treat her badly, and has only contempt for the ‘nice guys’. Perhaps there are some such girls around, but I haven’t observed the phenomenon to be widespread. It seems to me that nearly everybody likes to be treated with at least a modicum of respect and affection.
But there’s another trope out there – especially in movies and literature – about the person who feels repelled from their partner because they (the partner) are too good. The argument often runs along the lines that the partner is impossible to measure up to, and often makes the protagonist feel morally inadequate – bad. The kinder and more tolerant the way in which the ‘good’ partner reacts to this, the worse the divide becomes. I saw another example of this just last night – the character played by Gillian Anderson in the movie ‘The Last King of Scotland’. Her husband, working as an MSF-type doctor in a grossly under-resourced rural Ugandan hospital, was such a kind man that she felt tempted towards infidelity simply because she felt she couldn’t live up to the level of virtue exemplified by her husband. Be not distressed though, dear reader. So far as I know, Ms Anderson managed to resist her impulses, and her relationship survived the danger. But I can’t be sure, because I was unable to watch the second half of the movie for fear of the cruel violence that I knew would engulf most of the characters once the murderous Idi Amin got into his stride.
I have made no more observations of this in real life than of the other trope. There are very few true saints around, and I think I have met hardly any of them. But it somehow feels more plausible than the other trope. It just seems to me that, while nobody wants to live in the constant presence of cruelty and contempt, perhaps many, without even realising it, value the (hopefully fairly minor) character flaws of their partners and friends, and are even quite attached to them.
Or maybe not. I wrote this while on holiday and it is all just idle speculation.
Bondi Junction, May 2018
It is well-known that multinational companies use complex group structures, involving a rats’ nest of bewilderingly interconnected companies, to shift profits to places where they are taxed lightly or not at all. If the structure is complex enough it can become impractical for government agencies to invest the considerable time needed to understand the structure and work out whether it is hiding something socially harmful. Tax avoidance is not the only practice that can be masked by such deliberate complexity. Money laundering and putting assets out of the practical reach of creditors are other ends that can be achieved. Employment and environmental standards may also be avoided.
This essay outlines a law reform proposal that I believe would dramatically reduce the complexity of corporate groups, and thereby make it harder for them to hide socially undesirable practices. In short, I propose changing tax laws so that money cannot flow through a company without penalty unless its owner has convinced the government that allowing that to happen provides some benefit to society.
Under my proposal, a country, call it N (for nation), would maintain a register of ‘Fair Dinkum’ companies (‘FD companies’), which would include both companies based in country N and companies based in other countries. For my non-Australian readers, ‘Fair Dinkum’ is an Australian adjectival phrase indicating that the person or thing to which it refers is honest and generally wholesome.
Any company, domestic or foreign, could apply to the government of N to be granted FD status. If granted, the company would be added to the register.
The incentive for companies to apply for FD status is that any payment made by a company subject to country-N tax law to a company in the same corporate group would only be able to be used as a tax deduction if the company to whom it was paid is Fair Dinkum.
Requirements for a company C being given FD status, and for retaining it, would be:
- The social benefit test. A convincing argument that granting the status to C would allow beneficial business activity to take place that otherwise could not take place to a similar degree. ‘Beneficial’ means beneficial to society in general, and can be interpreted fairly widely. If the activity creates jobs in an activity that is not regarded as harmful to human well-being, or generates taxable profits that would otherwise not occur, or provides a non-harmful service that people would be expected to want, that would be seen as beneficial. But it is not enough that the social benefit would be expected to arise after the company was given FD status. The government must also be convinced that the same benefit could not be achieved without that status. In particular, there would have to be a reason why the corporate group could not achieve the same goal using the FD companies it already had.
- Company C makes no tax deductible payments to any non-FD company in the group.
- Company C is based in a country that has tax laws and rates deemed by country N to be reasonable. That is, C cannot be in a tax haven.
- If any other companies in the group ceased to have FD status in the previous five years, an explanation of the reason would have to be provided for each one, that removes any concern that the group might be using ‘burner’ companies to flout the intentions of the framework.
- Company C does not own shares or debt instruments of any non-FD company in the group.
- No company in the group has a mortgage or other lien over any assets of Company C, either over individual assets or a floating charge over all assets.
- An application would have to be sponsored by a country-N resident, who would be held personally responsible, under threat of criminal penalty, for the correctness of information provided to the country-N government by company C in support of its obtaining or retaining FD status. This resident will be called the company’s ‘sponsor’.
At the end of each tax year in any tax jurisdiction to which company C is subject, the sponsor would be required to certify that C had met all the above requirements throughout the year, and that the full amount of required tax had been paid to the relevant tax authority.
In the first instance, the tax deduction incentive acts only as a reason for a company in a corporate group that is subject to country-N tax to apply for FD status. However the above set of requirements make that status unattainable unless all companies that receive tax-deductible payments, directly or indirectly, from the first company are also FD, and all companies that are directly or indirectly owned by C are also FD. Hence any corporate group whose structure is deliberately over-complex will be unable to earn profits in country N without a heavy tax burden, unless it creates a very simple, quarantined, sub-structure within its group for that purpose. Because of the simple nature of the sub-structure, it will be very difficult for it to avoid tax, launder money or put assets beyond reach of creditors.
The application would be assessed by officials of the country’s government. A non-trivial fee would be levied to cover the cost of the assessment. Since the assessment would be personal and not automated, this would need to be of the order of one to two thousand dollars.
In order to ease the transition, companies existing at the date of the announcement of these measures would be granted temporary FD status, that would cease after a few years unless a full application had been made and accepted. Companies formed after the announcement date would get no such period of grace.
The status would expire and need to be renewed every few years, at some frequency set out in the law. The renewal process would be less onerous than the initial application, but the company would need to certify that it had not undergone a major change in either ownership or business activity. If it had, a new application would need to be made. The purpose of this measure is to prevent corporate groups from gaining FD status for a company on the basis of one projected use of the company, and then using it for a different purpose, or selling it to another entity that uses it for a different purpose. Spot audits would be conducted on the statements made in renewal applications. The company sponsor, and all directors of the company would be required to sign renewal applications, thereby placing the responsibility on them to ensure the statements were truthful.
A significant change in the business activity of a company with FD status would cause its status to immediately lapse. So companies would need to apply for a renewal of status if their business activity changes significantly. Such an application would be required to be made within some specified period – say three months – after the change of activity had occurred. There would be capacity for the status renewal to be backdated in order to allow companies nimbleness and flexibility of movement, such as a snap takeover bid for which the company would be disadvantaged if the company’s bid became known to the market before the deal was closed. But the backdating would not be guaranteed. If the new activity was not deemed an acceptable use of the status, the renewal would be denied and loss of status would date back to the time the new activity commenced. Again, if it was discovered through spot audits or other means that a FD company’s business activity had significantly changed and the company had not either applied for renewal or relinquished the status within the specified period (again, say three months), the directors of the company would be liable to criminal penalties.
Here, a ‘change in activity’ is not so much about a decision to add a new widget to the range of widgets the company currently makes. That would create undesirable bureaucratic obstacles to good business practice. Rather, it is about opening up new channels by which significant slabs of the company’s revenue either come in or go out to/from other companies within the group. Details of this would be encoded through relevant definitions in the law.
Impact of, and Reasoning Behind, the Proposal
Under the proposed framework a non-FD company could no longer be used as part of funnelling profits through labyrinthine channels to move them either to a low tax jurisdiction or from a jurisdiction with lax controls on money laundering. Why? Because these labyrinthine structures rely on money coming in to such a company and then going straight out again, with no tax impact. But for a non-FD company the money coming in would be taxable while the money going out would not be, making the transaction economically non-viable.
The reason for the non-deductibility of intra-group payments to non-FD companies may not be obvious. There will often be worthy reasons for company C operating in country N to set up a local subsidiary that conducts its sales and other operations there, so FD status will be easily achieved for such a subsidiary. But we do not want to allow profits to be shifted from that company to an offshore company that is subject to a less careful regime, where they may be eventually channelled to a tax haven. Dodges such as ‘transfer pricing’ make this easy to do and hard to police. Requiring the recipient company to be FD would make this much more difficult. For a start, the criteria deny FD status to any company in a tax haven, even if that company is the group’s ultimate parent. Secondly, no group company to which the domestic subsidiary transferred revenue by anything longer than a very short chain would be granted FD status. It is hard to imagine any genuine reason why payments should have to pass through more than two intermediate sets of corporate hands within a group before reaching the ultimate parent company. If this rule forced a company to channel payments from country N to the parent company via a shorter, simpler route than that used for payments from subsidiaries in other countries, that is a consequence of the group’s choice to have a complex global structure, and it is in the group’s power to change that if it does not like having to deal with the extra accounting work involved in having two separate payment streams. Note also that the constraint on payments is only on tax-deductible payments and so would not include dividends on ordinary shares.
We can imagine that less scrupulous companies might seek to develop sneaky ruses such as bouncing revenue off a non-group company in a tax haven and then back into the group through a sweetheart deal with that external company, in order to avoid the tax deductibility problem. However any such ruse would need to be highly contrived and would be subject to the usual rules and penalties that apply to any arrangement that is constructed with the primary aim of evading tax.
I have not managed to convince myself of the impossibility of avoiding some amount of tax in the year in which a company ceases to be FD. As soon as a company relinquishes that status it is free to make any payments it likes. I can imagine a company somehow storing up wealth in a tax-effective way while FD and then suddenly ceasing to be FD and paying the stored wealth out to a group company in a tax haven. But I think the potential for such abuse is limited. Firstly, the accumulation of wealth cannot span across tax years, as the company has to either pay a fair amount of tax on any profit in the year it arises or lose FD status. Secondly, if the company is subject to country-N tax, it would not get a tax deduction for the payment. Hence the profits that built up the payment would be fully taxed. It is conceivable that some losses may occur in the year of ceasing to be FD, but that final year would be only a small part of the time that company is FD, as long as the group doesn’t churn FD companies. Such churn is prevented by the requirement within the application process to justify any cessations of FD status within the group.
Potential Reaction, and a Comparison to the History of Companies
Extreme free-market libertarians might howl in protest, liberally sprinkling their complaint with terms like ‘red tape’. But it would be in vain. First, this proposal would cut red tape, not increase it, since it would dramatically reduce the number of companies in a corporate group, and hence the amount of pointless legal and accounting work, not to mention subsidiary board meetings, that the presence of all those companies necessitates.
Further, the suggested action is not unprecedented. Commercial companies have only existed since about 1600, when the East India Company was formed, followed by the Dutch East India Company in 1602. Formation of these companies required royal assent, which presumably required quite a high level of work, cost and currying favour to get it granted. In 1720 the British government forbade the establishing of companies by the British Bubble Act, which remained in force until 1825. Limited Liability did not become a feature of British corporations until the Limited Liability Act of 1855.
It was only in the early twentieth century that the widespread use of companies really took off. I don’t know when the creation of labyrinthine corporate structures using two-dollar shell companies began, but I suspect it was much more recent than that.
So we see that companies have only been a feature of the economic landscape for a small part of the period in which international trade and other economic activity occurred, and for a large part of even that short time, the formation of companies was very far from the rubber-stamped, automatic right that it is taken to be now.
Conclusion and Commendation
Nothing in this is proposal is hostile to the formation of companies. I fully accept the argument that allowing companies to be created enables business to be generated, with the social benefits of employment, services, profits and tax revenue following from that. But it is exactly that social benefit that my proposal would require to be demonstrated before allowing a company to be used. Demonstrating that would be very easy for companies that actually do useful activity, and for most non-shell companies that have existed since companies were invented. But it would be very difficult for a company whose sole purpose is to complicate a labyrinthine structure and thereby aid in tax avoidance, money laundering or otherwise evading a corporate group’s responsibilities to the society without whose rule of law it would not be able to function at all.
Implementation of this proposal would make a national tax office’s task of ensuring that appropriate levels of tax are paid by a company that sells goods and services in that nation much easier. It would make money laundering more difficult and it would make it harder for companies to put their assets out of reach of deserving creditors.
I commend this idea to the law makers of the world, in the hope that some nation may take it up, and maybe start a trend leading to most nations doing it. Of course, implementing the proposal would not prevent all tax evasion, money laundering and other corporate hoodwinkery. But I believe it would greatly reduce it.
No doubt there will be some wrinkles to be ironed out and perhaps some unforeseen obstacles to be surmounted, but I am hopeful that the core of the idea is sound, practical and effective. This essay may change as people point out loopholes that need to be closed, or undesirable obstacles that such a framework would create, and the proposal adapts to remedy those. At worst, somebody may point out a fatal flaw in the proposal, in which case it will become petrified as a monument to the powerful yet hard to fulfil human wish to stop or at least reduce exploitation by the rich of the not so rich.
We shall see.
Bondi Junction, March 2018