Does the Queen pay tax?

After certain recent fancy events (officially costing the UK taxpayer £10m, officially, and probably a good bit more if you factor in that helipcopter and the wine-powered Aston Martin) you might be pondering whether HM the Queen is obliged to pay her own Revenue & Customs.

As it turns out, according to "The Official Website of the British Monarchy", she has paid income tax and CGT since she volunteered to do so in 1992. And she pays VAT and local taxes.

Can't imagine she gets inspected very often, though.

"One's a bit short on cash, but will you accept a signed photo?"

Stability! Competitiveness! Death to the Peasants! (No, take that last one out)

This is how I imagine George Osborne's chat with his speech-writers went this morning. Maybe I'm being unfair.

No doubt a lot of the really gritty stuff is lying buried at the back of Budget Note Z15 but, in the spirit of instant gratification, let's talk about some highlights of the speech.

Fuel Duty

Fuel duty wasn't frozen, it was reduced by 1p! Gasp. And a "fair fuel stabiliser" has been introduced, the mechanisms of which seem to operate so that oil companies subsidise any fuel duty increases under the escalator when prices are high. Hopefully this will go some way towards reducing inflation and general misery and, for those of you who drive, will be a nice treat next time you fill up your tank (provided you wait until after 6pm tonight).

Corporation Tax

Another mini-surprise, but not that surprising on reflection. The Tories are very keen on Britain being "Open for Business!", and a low rate of corporation tax is part of their vision. At the moment, apparently, we have the sixth highest rate of corporation tax in Europe. George wants us to have the "most competitve tax system in the G20" and, to that end, the corporation tax rate will be reduced by 2% (as opposed to the originally planned 1%) from April, and then by 1% for the next two years, bringing it down to 23%.

Investment Incentives

Increases in entitlements for entrepreneur's relief, the Enterprise Investment Scheme and research and development tax credits are all pretty good news for small businesses and investors. As is the implementation of the Enterprise Zones (which won't directly benefit Scotland, but could catch on here). So much so that I can't think of anything snarky to say.

Personal Taxes

The personal allowance will increase as planned in April, and then again to £8,105 from 2012. For most taxpayers this means more cash in hand, but they'll probably end up spending it on their electricity bills.

The merger of national insurance and income tax is going forward for consulation. The Chancellor has confirmed that NICs won't apply to other forms of income, so in theory it shouldn't be more punitive.

Confusingly, though, he is also consulting on reform of the state pension, which would be based on contributions. Is this the first step in a long process whereby we end up paying NICs on TOP of 32% income tax? Probably.

Oh, and quite a few readers will be distraught to hear that Air Passenger Duty is going to become chargeable on private jets. *passes Kleenex*

Tax simplification

If you own a set of orange and yellow handbooks, you won't be surprised to hear that we now have the lengthiest tax code in the world (having recently overtaken India, apparently). Apparently this Budget will remove 43 "complex reliefs" and reduce tax legislation by 100 pages. Taking 100 pages out of that lot is, to use the polite vernacular option, a drop in the ocean, but it's certainly a step in the right direction. The

And the highlights of Ed Milliband's rebuttal? I have no idea. When he got to the "Norman Lamont with an iPod" bit I had to go and be sick.

Poor Ed.

Budget Predictions (and why you should give a cr*p)

Ok, by the time you read this its contents will almost certainly be historical. But I’m feeling enlivened about posterity, this being census season, so I’m pressing ahead.

Tomorrow, the Chancellor (Gideon “George” Osborne; you may recognise him from all Thomas Hardy novels, in which he plays the villainous aristocrat, usually atop a snowy-white steed) will give the UK coalition government’s first Budget announcement. Shall I drone on about this being the Tories’ big chance to wreak a bloody, ideological hatchet job on the public sector they despise so much, using a financial crisis instigated by their old school pals as a justification for ruining lives? No. Let’s skip straight to a few predictions and what they might mean.

Scrapping National Insurance

National Insurance Contributions account for about a third of most people’s employment-related tax deductions. But don’t get excited. Scrapping NICs actually means increasing the rate of income tax to fill the void. The Conservatives are keen on this because they say it’s honest (about the amount of tax people actually pay – it’s disingenuous to pretend that National Insurance is a separate category in any meaningful sense) and straightforward. I’ve got to confess I agree. 

On the other hand, this could easily be a way of stealthily increasing the amount of tax we all pay. If it isn’t administered specifically as a payroll and self-employment tax, those reliant on income from savings and investments will be worse off, and it’s possible we’ll all be worse off since national insurance rates benefit from upper and lower limits which presumably wouldn’t be carried over.

As a tax practitioner I’m sneakily quite pleased at the prospect of chucking away my national insurance tables in the near future but my indolence isn’t strictly relevant to the debate.

Freezing Fuel Duty

Thanks to world events, the price of petrol continues to shoot up (and, in other news, dog bites man). This is going to do nothing positive for our rate of inflation. Fuel duty is set to increase by 1p with effect from 1 April, which would translate to an extra 5p cost for motorists. On top of the VAT increase in January, things are getting ridiculous. If the Treasury wants to recoup its costs presumably it would be better off doing this in a way that doesn’t actually contribute to inflation (or stagflation if you want to go there). If the Budget contains a remedy, it’s bound to be popular. Maybe even a reduction in VAT? Ok, I may have confused the Chancellor with Santa. Must be the red box.

Enterprise Zones

The re-introduction of enterprise zones seems fairly certain, since the Chancellor has actually trailed them himself. How they will work is less clear, but they are intended to encourage regional development in areas of economic underperformance. Businesses setting up in enterprise zones can expect to receive financial incentives in the form of tax reliefs (probably capital allowances, which work by reducing the business’s taxable profit figure).

Anything else?

There’s lots of unpleasant talk of “pain to come” (I hate this - is there any need for the media to use such sore-sounding words with such a tone of relish?"), so it’s probably safe to bet that no one is going to walk away from tomorrow’s announcement with a smile on their face. Personal allowances are already set to go up, which is a small mercy. I'd be keen on an increase in inheritance tax but under the current government (and in view of prevailing "me first" public opinion), I'm dreaming on.

If you get the chance it’s well worth watching the televised speech and subsequent debate. It’ll give you a flavour of what’s going on and how tax interacts with every aspect of law and public policy.

Tax and the Scotland Bill

Exciting news (for them as likes that sort of thing)! The Scotland Bill Committee published its report today on the current draft of the Bill, which seems to give two thumbs up to the fiscal measures. Of course, the Bill still needs the approval of the Scottish Parliament (and who knows how that will go) but I have a feeling that this draft is likely to be a close reflection of the ultimate reality.

So, as things stand, how does Scottish tax law seem likely to change?

1. Stamp Duty Land Tax

SDLT will be devolved entirely. Scotland will be free to set its own rates. You only need to look across the Channel to see that the UK's rates are actually pretty low. It might be tempting for the Scottish government to bump this up but given the perilous state of the property market right now it would be a risky/insane strategy in the short term.

2. Income tax
The main UK rate of income tax will be reduced by 10% for "Scottish taxpayers" and the Scottish Government will set an additional top-up amount. This is compared to the approach in federal states, such as Germany, where taxpayers pay a federal and a State rate of income tax. Who are Scottish taxpayers and how will they prevent tax-rate shopping? Questions for another day!

3. Aggregates Levy, Landfill Tax and Air Passenger Duty
Oft-overlooked but quite significant sources of revenue which will also be devolved entirely to Scotland.

The report suggests that this, together with SDLT, the Scottish rate of income tax, business rates and council tax will give Scotland devolved control of around one third of its revenue. Obviously there will be a correspondent reduction in the block payment from Westminster, which means we could end up with a drop in revenue.

What else?
The report, unsurprisingly, anticipates that these measures are only the beginning. Certainly, there are plenty of other tax issues to consider.

What, for example, should be done about corporation tax? A key argument in favour of fiscal autonomy is that it would give Scotland the ability to create a friendly tax environment for business, which could encourage investment. Sounds like a simple, good idea, but lessons would have to be learned from Ireland, which has tried a similar approach.

And what about North Sea oil revenues? Given the wildly fluctuating tax income from oil (ranging from £2 bn to £12bn in a single year) the Committee took the view that these were better managed on a UK level. It would be interesting (at least on a completely divorced from reality technical level!) to see how this would be dealt with in an absolute independence scenario.

UK tax - where does it all come from?

I abhor a cliché but this one's true: the two certainties in life are death and taxes. Everyone, no matter what their circumstances, pays tax. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes trying to think of an exception to that rule but I can't. Any suggestions welcome.

What's surprising, then, is how little most people know about the ways in which they are taxed.

So, which taxes are the big earners? And which might be more trouble than they're worth?

HMRC statistics show that, in the tax year 2008/9, the top taxes were as follows:

Income tax - £148bn

National insurance - £97bn

VAT - £78bn

Corporation tax - £43bn

Fuel duties - £25bn

Alcohol and tobacco duties -£17bn

Stamp duties - £8bn (almost half of the 2007/8 figure; recession-induced shudder)

Capital gains tax - £8bn

Inheritance tax - £3bn

Around £50bn is also contributed in the form of council tax and business rates.

It's interesting to see that capital gains tax and inheritance tax account for such a small part of the overall income when they can be such ferociously complicated taxes to apply. Arguably, these taxes continue to exist primarily for political purposes. They play an important role in wealth redistribution (which, unless you like Mad Max-style chaos, is probably a good thing). Most estates, of course, fall within the nil rate band for inheritance tax, and there are still a range of ways to mitigate capital gains tax. So, in some ways, these are taxes of straw. They keep the less wealthy happy while offering plenty of scope to keep tax to a minimum.

It's also worth speculating about how these figures might change in the context of fiscal autonomy. You might already know that the Scotland Bill currently proposes a Scottish stamp duty land tax, and an enhanced variable rate of income tax for Scottish tax payers, and this will inevitably be reflected in a reduction in the block payment we receive from Westminster. So how can we be certain that there won't be a shortfall?

Those who argue that North Sea Oil revenues can provide buoyancy need to bear in mind that (a) oil is a rapidly diminishing resource, (b) Scotland doesn't have an unencumbered claim to the income from that oil and (c) petroleum revenues in 2008/09 only amounted to £2.5bn.

If you're feeling a bit sick at the amount of tax you have to pay, take comfort from the fact that, 40 years ago, the top rate of income tax was 98%. At least things ain't that bad. Yet.

Marry for the money

Gold digger: Would tax breaks make Kanye keener?

If we were playing a word association game, what would the word "marriage" conjure up for you? Madame Bovary? Sylvia Plath? Colleen Rooney? Just some suggestions.

For the Conservative party, the answer right now seems to be "tax breaks". During the last election, David Cameron pledged to "recognise marriage in the tax system" and Iain Duncan Smith has since taken to the theme like a dog with a really compelling bone.

I know I shouldn't be surprised by this. "Marry and solve the world's ills" is a predictable arrow in the Tory rhetorical quiver. But still, I am. Have we been trotting unwittlingly around the 19th century this entire time? It would explain a couple of things... David Cameron's New Victoriana initiative "the Big Society", for example.And the fact that the Prime Minister's office seriously seemed to expect Sarah Brown to bring down Gordon's breakfast for him.

There are 3 things I'd be grateful if someone could explain about tax breaks for married people:

1. Why?

Just... why? What's the pay-off? Will merrily co-habiting couples suddenly decide to be joined in the eyes of the Registry Office, just to save a few tax pounds? And, if they do, how on earth will this improve society as a whole? Except for the noble British wedding industry, of course. I guess that's something.

2. How can this be a legitimate application of the tax system?

Even if, from an economic or social point of view, you think that tax should be used to encourage "positive behaviour", surely no one can straight-facedly claim that marriage is a good in itself. Can they? Marriage is a legal contract and, like any contract, it can be a really useful tool, a fairly useless tool that's still nice to have, or a total nightmare.

Tax breaks designed to encourage marriage aren't behavioural correctors; they're a means of enforcing an ideological agenda (possibly, just sayin', a weird and antiquated agenda that offends great swathes of the voting public). This makes about as much sense to me as tax breaks for organic milk drinkers. Less, in fact.

3. How can it be done fairly?

Say, hypothetically, that you support the (*cough* ludicrous *cough*) notion that "all marriage is good". How would you administer the tax relief so that it didn't unfairly penalise, say, widows or battered spouses or the children of co-habiting couples? It's absurd to even think about.

I hope this is a wasted post and nothing ever comes of it. I can't believe there would be any sort of mainstream support. But then I couldn't believe Kindles would ever catch on (and I still find Twitter a bit suspicious). So what the hell do I know.

A mini-VAT guide for snacklovers

When I'm not thinking about tax, I'm probably thinking about snacks. On the best days, I get to think about both at the same time...  


The VAT treatment of food is surprisingly esoteric, and it also illustrates how UK tax law might not always meet with the expectations of the man on the Clapham Omnibus (or the Clockwork Orange, for that matter).

My personal favourite snack tax fact (!) is that nude gingerbread men are zero-rated for VAT while those clad in a seasonal icing scarf or a cosy chocolate waistcoat are subject to the standard rate (now 20%). Why on earth should this be?

Looking back to the murky origins of UK VAT, which was introduced in 1974, the purported intention has been that "luxury goods" bear the brunt of VAT liability, while "essentials" (in food terms, simple and healthy things) are zero-rated. So, presumably, a gussied-up gingerbread man crosses the line into luxury territory. But how does this fit with the VAT treatment of other snacks?

You'll be familiar (and then some) with the Jaffa Cakes case which finally laid to rest that age-old philosophical conundrum: are Jaffa Cakes cakes or chocolate biscuits? Happily for McVities and Jaffa aficionados everywhere, they turn out to be cakes, which mean that they too are zero-rated. Similarly, the Marks and Spencer teacakes case (as in à la Tunnocks, not the squished fruit scone-like creations) concluded that the mallow-filled treats are cakes and M&S were entitled to a £3.5m refund of VAT previously paid (cue a slew of hilarious "this is not just any VAT refund" business page headlines). It's not clear how this affected our own beloved Tunnocks but, presumably, the supermarkets who sold their product will have treated received a similar windfall.

I have a sweet as tooth as it's humanly possible to have, and I'd fight any suggestion of a "Fat Tax" to the death (fight with words -  the keyboard is mightier than the sword anyway)  but it seems MADLY strange to me that, in the eyes of HMRC, chocolate biscuits are luxuries while cakes are essentials. I always feel like I'm doing quite well if I manage to stick to a couple of chocolate hobnobs of an afternoon. It's even odder when you see that Muesli bars are standard-rated. Was Marie-Antoinette interning at Customs that summer? 

Historical Taxtivism - The Boston Tea Party

I've been inspired by an uncharacteristically exciting episode of tax history on a recent trip to Boston and I'd like to share : )

Scottish tax law doesn't have much in common with the Commonwealth of Massachusetts these days (and how you feel about that might depend on how you feel about the televisual works of David E. Kelley) but the themes and pressures which culminated in the Boston Tea Party in 1773 have parallels that all fiscal authority needs to think about. Not, for the clarificatory avoidance of political water-muddying, that I would ever liken the plight of the disenfranchised 18th Century colonies to the position of modern-day Scotland in the UK! It's just an illustrative device, ok?

In the 1760s, Britain was fighting the French for control of North America. Parliament decided to try to recoup some of the enormous cost by taxing its North American colonists for the first time. The rationale being "we are fighting to protect you so you ought to pay your share". Another, unspoken, reason was that Britain wanted to re-assert its political control.

The first taxes were imposed on non-British imports (through the Sugar Act), then on books, pamphlets, cards and dice (through the Stamp Act) and then, through the Townshend Acts, on glass, lead, paint, paper and (dum dum DUM) tea.

Unsurprisingly, the Colonists were unhappy about this. The Colonies were founded just over a century earlier by people who wanted to escape the direct control of the British Crown, after all. These taxes were a key part of a concerted effort by Britain to exert control. Crucially, colonists couldn't vote in British elections (of course, neither could most British citizens at the time).

The colonists protested, boycotting British imports. Sam Adams, one of the leading lights of the protest movement, is a name that will be familiar with American beer aficionados (incl. moi). Interesting non-tax fact, however - the pictures on the bottles aren't actually of Sam Adams but of his considerably more rugged co-revolutionary, Paul Revere. 

By 1770, the boycott had been so successful (reducing revenue substantially) that Britain decided to remove the taxes. On everything except tea.

Against a backdrop of military occupation and oppression (culminating in the Boston Massacre), the relationship between Britain and the colonists remained uneasy. In 1773, the British government decided to reduce the tax paid by British tea merchants (specifically the East India Company). This effectively gave the East India Company a monopoly on the supply of tea to the colonies. An excellent, if extreme, example of how tax can be used to manipulate a market.


Americans weren't particularly bothered about the tea (something you might have noticed continues to this day - although I notice Starbucks has improved its range of teas recently) but they WERE worried about Britain getting ideas and taking a similar approach with other goods.

When 3 ships arrived along the Charles River, Bostonians were furious and demanded that they be sent back untaxed. The Royal governor (the Crown's representative in Massachussetts) wasn't particularly interested in their objections and paid the tax. As the ships sat in the dock waiting to be unloaded, angry protestors dressed as Mohawk Indians stormed aboard. Supported by huge crowds, they threw the tea into the harbour. When it floated, they used small boats and oars to push it under the water. The entire cargo was ruined and this act of popular resistance is now recognised as a critical moment in the path to American Independence.

It's also (more interestingly for my purposes!) one of the first examples of "taxtivism". Activism by a broad base, grass roots movement in response to perceived fiscal injustice.

Less taxing times for law students?

A futuristic glimpse of an undergrad tax classroom?

If you are a diploma student, trainee or qualified lawyer, you might be aggrieved to learn that, it seems, ordinary level Tax is no longer a compulsory professional subject for entry into the Scottish legal profession. I imagine you could be thinking something along the lines of "What? I had to suffer through it! Why shouldn't they?" Or, with my optimistic hat on, "What? How can a lawyer hope to provide an excellent professional service to clients (or even a basically competent level of service) to without knowing the fundamentals of tax?!"

The idea, I think, is that "tax awareness" will permeate every aspect of legal education. In property, you'll learn about capital gains tax on the sale of a building. In trusts, you'll learn about inheritance tax. As a tax fan, I'm sad that a focused course is no longer part of the core syllabus, but perhaps this approach is exactly what most lawyers-to-be need (and prefer).

As a 19 year-old-law student, I can't pretend I didn't feel a bit alienated sitting in front of lists of abstract lists and figures ("calculate the taper relief, if any, available to Mrs McKitty on the sale of her Ming vase"). But I thought of it as the university equivalent of learning your times tables; pretty dull, but you need to power through it so you can move on to more exciting things. What worries me most is that this apparent new approach suggests that it could be possible for students to pass all of their exams without ever having a full grasp of the tax law relevant to the practice areas being examined.  

Of course, none of this changes the fact that tax is a critical aspect of every lawyer's professional portfolio (something which I hope lawyers of the future will continue to enthuse about).

Taxing those pounds away

"Fat tax": the clue is in the name. It's tax on unhealthy food and drinks (and, at least in Japan, even people). "Fat tax" is part of a category known in tax-nerd circles (not by me - for reals) as "Pigouvian taxes", after the English economist Arthur Pigou; the idea being that by penalising negative behaviour (in this case, nomming delicious cakeses to the point of dangerous and, more importantly, costly obesity) the "market outcome" will be improved. In other words, we'll all cast aside our iniquitous, expensive Hula Hoop habits and turn towards the salady light.

Fat tax proposals emerge quite often in Scottish health policy discourse. This probably isn't surprising since, apparently, we're the second portliest nation on earth these days. Sigh.

But would a fat tax actually work? There's little evidence either way. Understandably, the governments have been reluctant to jump on board with an illiberal and unpopular measure that might not even have the intended result and the Scottish Government is no different.

Personally, I can't see a tax on food altering most people's eating habits. It may be the case that sumptuary taxes on alcohol and cigarettes do reduce their use, but food seems like a different kettle of fish (and chips). If a pizza cost £1 more, and I was in the mood for pizza, I'd still buy it.

Equally, I think there is a huge question mark over the question of whether tax can justifiably be used to alter personal behaviour. When I was at university, a lecturer stood in front of our class and announced "Taxation Is Slavery". He then spent the next hour explaining why. Citizens have no choice but to pay tax. Every year you work a significant number of salaried weeks "for the the government". You might have heard about "Tax Freedom Day", which works on this basis. Every year, the Adam Smith Institute calculates the theoretical day on which the average person stops working "to pay tax" and starts earning money they will get to keep. This year is 30 May: almost half-way through the year. Gloomy stuff (unless you value the protections your government offers in return).

Tax as slavery is a popular view among certain groups, primarily in the US. I don't agree (to put it politely). Taxation and the welfare state it supports undoubtedly free many of us from the literal indentured servitude we might otherwise have to undertake to feed ourselves. But how does a government legitimately tax its people? Presumably there must be some sort of balance in the relationship between the two. Sure, the relationship between taxpayer and the State is far more complicated than a straightforward transaction, but if we're effectively paying for our own chastisement, maybe that is edging closer to a master-servant dynamic.

A more straightforward criticism is that a fat tax would certainly hit the poorest hardest (the very definition of a a regressive tax), although perhaps in a jurisdiction where there is no welfare state, a counter-argument might be that the corrective effects of the fat tax would reduce the burden on the poor of paying for obesity-related medical care.

Ultimately, I just find the notion of a fat tax annoying. I'm not an demonic libertarian but I am a 30-something adult and I think I should be entitled to decide what I eat! 

So, what is "Scottish tax law"?

Good question!

Anyone familiar with UK tax law will know that Scotland's taxes (with the notable exceptions of local business rates and council tax, which are set by the Scottish Ministers) are created in Westminster, by HM Treasury, and administered by HM Revenue & Customs. Increasing quantities of the tax law which affects Scotland, particularly concerning trade, are imposed by way of EU Directives, and the harmonising effect of those brings Scotland closer to Europe in some respects.

Scotland does, technically at least, have a (hitherto untested) power to vary UK taxes in Scotland by up to 3% but, at its core, tax is a reserved matter - at least for now.

So, tax law in Scotland is governed by UK Acts and statutory instruments. This doesn't mean, however, that tax always functions in exactly the same way on both sides of the Border. Tax law is UK-wide but it still has to operate alongside the other laws of our separate jurisdiction. Negotiating that juxtaposition can potentially lead to quite different results in practice. More on which to follow!

The Treasury and HMRC, inevitably, make rules with English law at the forefront of their minds and Scottish practitioners have to find ways to make these work for them. The Law Society of Scotland's Tax Sub-Committee plays a key role in finding solutions to the problems created by jurisdictional mismatch

Most of Scotland's public services funding comes from the "block grant" paid by the UK Parliament out of taxes collected from across the UK. The amount Scotland receives is calculated using something called the "Barnett formula", which has been used since 1978. Since devolution (and particularly since the Calman Commission on Scottish Devolution published its report in 2009, which suggests that the 1970s approach is inconsistent with the contemporary relationship between Scotland and the UK) this approach is arguably beginning to seem outdated. Perhaps it's time for a true "Scottish tax law" to be developed and applied?

Tax Law Scotland: Hello world : )

Scottish tax law.

Isn't that just the same as English tax law? And, even if there are some technical differences, aren't they spiritually the same thing: mega-dull number crunching for mega-dull people? Isn't that what my accountant (or my client's accountant) is paid to worry about? Can't you just get a life?

These are just some of the crueller questions Scottish tax lawyers might be asked on the rare occasions they venture out from behind their protective screen of backdated Tolley's handbooks. And, in answer to all of them, yes and no. Except the last one, which is just a no. How rude.

For some reason, tax often seems to be sidelined in mainstream discussions of law and politics. Perhaps this is understandable. If you have an exciting new idea, the last thing you want to have to think about is how much it's going to cost you. And, particularly if you are a lawyer, your first experiences of tax may have been less than scintillating. It takes a special kind of person to enthuse about executries (but then who am I to talk).

Tax has had pretty bad PR across the board, and perhaps that's no accident. In reality, it's an intricate and powerful tool. Governments can tweak a tax code to create far-reaching, long term consequences for citizens, all in a way that is far too boring to ever hit the mainstream headlines. If money makes the world go round then taxation determines how fast it can spin (sorry, sorry, I know, but it's true... not literally, obviously). The point is, tax matters. It affects everything you care about, and when you scratch below the surface it's actually pretty fascinating.

In Scotland, we're living in particularly exciting times (well, excitement is a relative concept). If "fiscal autonomy" hasn't entered entered your lexicon already (perhaps because you've spent the last few years meditating in remotest Bhutan?) then you can expect it to very shortly. It could be tempting to dismiss this as a niche issue for tax spods, but there will be knock-on effects for every area of Scottish law and business. For example, could Scotland benefit from the creation of a low corporation tax haven for big business? Or would the expense of separation force Scottish taxpayers to dig deeper into their pockets? How would our property market respond to a new stamp duty regime? And who would get the North Sea oil revenues? 

Even if you are firmly against the idea of Scottish independence, I don't think anyone would disagree that tax law needs to be reformed. Whether this happens in tandem with the UK or as part of a process of separation, the tax landscape in Scotland in five years' time is certain to look very different. So, in celebration of the passing of another Tax Return Day, what better time to start a blog about Scottish tax issues!...