I’ve always held the view – perhaps quaint, perhaps downright naïve – that business exists for the betterment of humanity. You know, that old-fashioned notion that companies are here to make life better for the rest of us, not simply to keep their directors in new yachts and their shareholders in Tuscan villas.
Of course, the Right would have you believe that if you so much as breathe on corporate tax rates, the economy will immediately collapse into a Dickensian workhouse. “Jobs will be lost!” they cry, as if the only thing keeping the working population from starvation is the benevolent hand of some FTSE 100 CEO – not the welfare state those same CEOs insist we can’t afford.
But here’s the thing. Taxes pay for public services. Public services keep the workforce alive, healthy, and able to turn up to work in the first place. They also keep society from descending into Mad Max with worse haircuts. So if a business can’t survive paying its fair share towards the roads its lorries use, the NHS that patches up its employees, and the schools that train its future staff, then perhaps it’s not a business at all, but a very elaborate charity for the wealthy.
Ah, but not all businesses are created equal. Some really do add value to human life – inventing vaccines, creating green technology, building infrastructure. Others… well, let’s just say that if civilisation vanished tomorrow, nobody would be desperately trying to reboot payday lending or weapons sales to warlords. Then there are the big polluters who hand the taxpayer the bill for cleaning up after them, while issuing press releases about their “commitment to sustainability” printed on recycled paper.
So how about this: a corporate taxation regime based on public utility. If your company demonstrably improves the lives of ordinary people, you get a break. If you make life worse – by poisoning rivers, exploiting staff, or creating products whose health warnings read like a coroner’s report – you pay more. The golden goose still gets to lay eggs, but if it’s also crapping in the pond, it cleans up after itself.
And here’s the clincher – none of this “mark your own homework” nonsense. Every claim, from carbon footprint to staff welfare, gets verified by an independent auditor with the power to name and shame. And not some cosy consultancy outfit where the partners go fox-hunting with the same directors they’re meant to be assessing. This auditor organisation would be led by people voted in by the public, the same way we elect councillors or MPs. That way, if they start going soft on the very companies they’re meant to police, the electorate can give them the boot.
Granted, the sheer size of the task would be colossal – every major business, every supply chain, every subcontractor, all combed through like nits in a school hair inspection. Armies of inspectors, forensic accountants, environmental scientists, and people who can spot greenwashing at fifty paces. Feasible? Yes, but only if it’s treated as a permanent institution, funded properly, and shielded from the political weather. It would cost billions to run, but then so does HMRC – and they bring in far more than they spend. The trick would be to make the benefits so obvious that dismantling it would be political suicide. Start small, prove it works, and make sure the public can see every win.
Of course, in a sane world this would be a no-brainer. But politics, dear reader, is not a sane world. Even if it worked beautifully – healthier workforce, better infrastructure, fatter pay packets – you can bet that a change in leadership would see it scrapped overnight. Not because it failed, but because the new lot’s donors prefer a simpler system: one where “public utility” is defined as “whatever keeps the dividends flowing.”
And voters? They can be swayed by three-word slogans and tabloid front pages faster than you can say “complex fiscal policy.” Never mind that your bills are lower, your streetlights are working, and your kids’ school actually has books – if the headline says “TAX WAR ON BUSINESS” over a photo of a sad-looking man in a hard hat, half the country will be sharpening the pitchforks.
So yes, business should be there for the betterment of humanity. But unless we can make that not just good ethics but good politics – with hard, audited proof overseen by people answerable directly to the public – we’ll keep ending up with the same old cycle: promise, progress, election, reversal. The circle might be squareable in economics – but in politics, it’s more of a revolving door.


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