Tax Break

John Fisher, international tax consultant

Archive for the category “International Tax”

No time to die

In his latest movie, Quentin Tarantino – parodying Hollywood’s parody of itself – has a baddie refusing to die despite multiple wounds to her body. Finally, Leonardo DiCaprio (SPOILER ALERT) incinerates her with a flame thrower he happens to have next to his Beverly Hills swimming pool, and what’s left of her reluctantly succumbs.

Tax advisors also have a habit of never lying down. It is in their DNA to spy out loopholes in tax legislation whatever the good lawmakers throw at them. Indeed, that was never more clear to me than the first time I volunteered (for entirely client-centric reasons) to help the tax authority rewrite a terribly written professional circular. Every altered phrase brought another potential dodge.

After over four years of being knifed and shot at by the 15 Actions of the OECD’s Base Erosion and Profit Shifting (BEPS) project, earlier this month the tax profession was presented with the public consultation document on the Global Anti-Base Erosion Proposal – Pillar Two, conveniently, but outrageously, granted the acronym GloBE. Classified under Action 1 on the digitalization of the economy, it is really designed to catch anything that was missed – the victors bayonetting the wounded.

There are four parts to the proposal. The income inclusion rule means that, if a multinational group shifts income to low tax jurisdictions (or, these days, high-tax jurisdictions with low-tax loss leaders), the parent country will be forced to pick up the discarded tax. The undertaxed payments rule would either not allow a deductible expense or impose withholding tax on payments to scantily taxed related parties. The switch-over rule which, despite its debauched Hollywood-friendly name, would simply allow the ignoring of tax treaties operating the exemption rule on foreign tax (for example, not taxing the profits of a foreign branch) in favor of the credit rule, where the income is taxed and a credit given for foreign tax paid. The subject to tax rule is slated to be instituted as a back-up to thwart the plans of any smart-ass who thought he could get round the undertaxed payments rule through the wonders of a tax treaty.

Down but not out

 The six-million-dollar-fee question is: ‘Are international tax planners about to bite the dust, go west, push up the daisies?’

What do YOU think?

The proposal, which despite my one-paragraph precis runs to 36 pages, gets lost in its own complexities. It has two significant problems: how to define profit; and how to define low-tax. The system has to be simple, so the temptation is to rely on that child of a lesser god – accounting profit. But, what is accounting profit? Those distant cousins – auditors or whatever accounting people call themselves these days – have so far not been able to settle on a single international set of financial accounting standards or generally accepted accounting principles (GAAP). So what do you do when, for example, the parent company does not consolidate under its own jurisdiction’s rules and the group is a Wild West of different systems? And what about those, oh so important, permanent and temporary differences to tax accounting that occupy our tax-crazed minds? And, when push comes to shove, what is low-tax? As the OECD and its friend the G20 have chased tax havens into a corner, the world has become more sophisticated than when Ireland drunkenly adopted a – then unheard of – 12.5% tax rate decades ago. It’s not always the statutory tax rate, stupid.

So, along with transfer pricing, it looks like international tax planning will live to fight another day – it is just going to have to reconstitute itself like in some Hollywood B-horror movie…

…for the people?

And a system of government…

‘Plutocracy’ is viewed generally as a dirty word. The idea (if not the practice) of government by the wealthy is anathema to those who treasure democracy.

At first whiff the OECD Secretariat’s proposal for a unified worldwide approach to the taxation of the digital economy, issued for consultation earlier this month, failed the plutocratic smell test. The second whiff was, perhaps, less pungent.

The OECD-led BEPS initiative has, since 2015, produced some impressive solutions to many of the problems of the international tax system – most would agree far beyond initial expectations. Predictably, however, the biggest sticking point has been the taxation of the digital economy – Action 1 on the 15 point list. And it has not been for want of trying. The OECD and G20 gradually coaxed into the BEPS decision process no less than 134 countries, in what came to be known as the Inclusive Framework, each jurisdiction entitled to an equal vote.  The Inclusive Framework has been busy during 2018 and 2019 issuing an interim report, a policy note, a public consultation document and a programme of work. The aim is to have everything in place (the remaining BEPS issues are also dealt with, but separately compartmentalized) by the end of 2020.

Another example of one nation one vote

The work of the 134 member countries sounds very impressive; there is only one fundamental problem – they are split into three factions with significantly differing views as to what needs to be done (see Taxbreak November 5, 2018). In good democratic fashion, they were instructed to achieve consensus before the ball falls on  December 31, 2020.

O ye of little faith!

The OECD Secretariat – the executive branch of that venerable club of 36 rich nations – saw chaos on the way, and has now ‘gently’ suggested its own solution, taking into account the three differing views. Although the 134 can ignore the ‘suggestion’ (or should that be the 98?), the clout of the wealthy has surely been enhanced. So, at first whiff, plutocrats rule, OK?

The proposal is, as might be expected, eminently sensible. The definition of ‘Nexus’, around since the 1920s, would – in certain circumstances – be modified to include in the tax net of a country situations where no physical presence (permanent establishment) exists. There would also be a new profit allocation rule that diverges from the traditional arms-length transfer pricing. Profits would be split into Amounts A, B and C. Amounts B and C would be fairly traditional in approach – a fixed return for marketing and distribution activities (B) with the option for a jurisdiction to claim a greater return for enhanced activities if warranted (C). Amount A is the magic ingredient, allocating a portion of the deemed residual profit of a multinational group – the non-routine profits – to the market jurisdictions after stripping out that element attributable to other factors such as trade intangibles, capital and risk. The concept is only to apply the rules to large multinationals using a suitable key – probably revenue, and to try and keep the allocation of residual profit as simple as possible.

Taking a second whiff, It is just possible that the OECD Secretariat’s motive in issuing the proposal is entirely anti-Plutocratic. The jurisdiction with the most to lose from the digital tax reform is the US which has nurtured the likes of Facebook, Apple, Amazon, Netflix and Google (the FAANGS). Realization of that fact has been reflected in that great nation’s approach to countries going it alone (eg France with its Digital Tax). The support of the No 1 international tax body is likely to give smaller nations (not to mention the not-so-smaller ones) the courage to resist pressure and ensure there is ultimately compromise rather than steamrolling. The alternative would be no agreement, and further spreading of the unilateral  taxes that have been popping up recently, undermining the underbelly of the entire system.

2020 should be an interesting year.

Red Scotch Tape

And then came the 1970s

When Queen Victoria opened the Great Exhibition in 1851, Britain was the world’s leading industrial power, producing more than half its iron, coal and cotton cloth.

 Well, I don’t think Her Late Majesty would be very amused to hear from her great-great granddaughter how the country she bequeathed to her descendants in perpetuity is currently faring in that field (mind you, her grandson Kaiser Bill did a far bigger hatchet job on Germany).

Nothing highlights the shifting sands more starkly than the announcement the other day that, following World Trade Organization approval, the US is to apply ‘the biggest ever’ new tariffs to imports from the EU – and specifically the UK, France, Germany and Spain.

The British air industry knew when to be competitive

The issue has been brewing for 15 years, ever since the US first complained to the WTO that the EU was subsidizing Airbus and others to assist in their competition with Boeing and others. The EU was indeed found to have overshot the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and given until late 2011 to comply. The EU did take measures, but in 2012 the US requested the review of a compliance panel, and in 2018 the WTO determined there had been further violations. The WTO finally ruled last week in the US’s favor and the US Trade Representative was quick to issue a list of products to have their wings clipped through new import tariffs.

The list of products to be punished, represented by their Harmonized Tariff Schedule Codes, is long. The first item is, unsurprisingly, aircraft – the prices of which are to be hiked by 10% from later this month.

It is the next item – designed to hit Britain – that is gobsmackingly strange. You would have thought that it would be heavy turbines, trains or ships. No. It is single malt (and only single malt) scotch whisky – together with single malt Irish whiskey distilled in Northern Ireland, if there is such a thing. And no friendly 10% for them. 25% slapped drunkenly on the price.

It turns out that the most effective way to get at what was once ‘the workshop of the world’ is through premium brand whisky. But, it is all so unfair. Check on Wikipedia for ‘Aircraft Manufacturers of Scotland’, and you will be greeted by ‘Defunct Aircraft Manufacturers of Scotland’. In fact, tragically, Scotland’s biggest claim ever to aviation fame was probably the 1988 Lockerbie Disaster, for which they suffered more than enough.

So, sadly, the good people of Scotland (in the interests of full disclosure, I should point out that I am half Scot) are being made to pay for the shenanigans of their southern partners (who themselves are probably far less guilty than the Germans and French , both of whose record on air wars is abysmal).

Who are the Americans trying to kid?

I don’t know what hurts more – Britain’s descent from the industrial world to the spirit world, or the gross unfairness of trade wars. Not much can be done about the former, but the latter should be exorcised before the new mercantilism takes an unbreakable hold.

We are not amused.

One day more

Even he looks bored

Of all the hackneyed aphorisms that grate on my undertaxed mind, that one about nothing being certain except death and taxes has got to be prime candidate for the next cull of the English language.

So, I was both irritated and fascinated when it was brought to my attention that Monday last week was the first ever Tax Certainty Day. We have become used to ‘Days’ designed to make us more aware of everything from climate change to world health, but why a day to make us more aware of something we are all so painfully aware of already? After all, there is no Death Day (or is there?). My appetite for information was further whet by the news that the center of the celebrations was the City of Love itself.

Never underestimate the ability of tax to underwhelm.

It turns out that Tax Certainty Day is not about the inevitability of paying taxes, but rather about achieving certainty over how much to pay. It was marked at the OECD headquarters in Paris, where – rather than enjoying a day of tax non-deductible booze – the participants were presented with the OECD report on the 2018 Mutual Agreement Procedure (MAP) statistics. Add to that, presentations from Austria and France (the only justification for singling out these particular two countries apparently being the two world wars fought between them), and a suitably drab day must have been had by all.

Or not.

Somewhere else the scores mean nothing

Tax professionals like statistics, and this was a day for league tables of which countries had started and finished the most mutual agreement procedures (broadly, the discussions between international tax authorities to resolve disputes over taxing rights in specific international transactions), how long the procedures took on average, how many related to transfer pricing and how many to other transactions, how many were withdrawn, how many were not resolved, and so on.

Now, judging by the reporting of the occasion, these statistics must have been quite intoxicating, because there seemed to be a fair degree of back slapping for hitting the top of the various categories, and a degree of back turning to those at the bottom. This appears utter nonsense. While MAP is a competitive sport involving two opposing teams, there was evidently no category of winners, and it takes two to tango for timely dispute resolution. Manchester City’s emphatic 8-0 demolition of Watford last weekend did not entitle Watford to equal points for helping their opponents wrap up the game in the first half. Furthermore, quick resolution may just reflect a tax authority’s willingness to ‘have a go’ at charging a taxpayer while caving in as soon as they get around the table, or alternatively, their support of aggressive tax planning. It is perhaps not a coincidence that Malta came top in the speed stakes (2 months). Saudi Arabia, a country justly maligned for so much, was perhaps unfairly singled out as the only country sporting no MAPs. It could be that they are just very fair tax-wise to foreign companies (unfortunately I have no first-hand knowledge of that particular jurisdiction’s practices).

Coming to a cinema near you: ‘Tax, Lies and Red Tape’

Second in the league table of aphorisms for the gallows must surely be that one about lies, damned lies and statistics. Like guns, statistics are highly dangerous when they fall into the wrong hands.

Time for an International Statistics Awareness Day?

Brexit Blarney

Why the British really don’t want an Irish border

A few years after the Good Friday Agreement, I found myself driving along the Irish border. Now, as a non-reconstructed Englishman would expect to find in Ireland, the road snaked drunkenly in and out of each of the United Kingdom and Republic of Eire (fortunately no other countries were involved, probably because there was a sea in between), without any respect for the  political map.

I got to thinking about that drive the other day, when I noticed that Israel’s new-improved Free Trade Agreement with Canada came into force on Sunday. The last time I checked, Israel didn’t have a border with Canada, but the United Kingdom – for better or for worse – has a border with the Irish Republic. And I know what it looks like. It doesn’t look like anything. They don’t even have a tourist attraction like Berlin’s Checkpoint Charlie to cause an obstruction to passing motorists.

One solution?

The only way goods are going to make it into Israel from Canada is via air, sea or someone else’s border. And the Customs Authority must be licking its rubber stamp, because, far from reducing necessary bureaucracy, free trade agreements – that do away with tariffs (sort of) – create more bureaucracy. Whereas an import from a country governed by WTO rules just needs a quick open of the box to see that what is inside is what they said was inside, under an FTA they have to know what is inside what is inside. ‘Rules of Origin’ stop the good citizens of Bunga-Bunga just changing the packaging and passing their dubious products for Canadian or, even, Canadien.

The British, on the other hand, are currently in a customs union with the Irish, albeit through no fault of their own having been admitted together with them to the EEC in 1973. Customs unions are much more efficient than FTAs because everybody in the union adheres to a common external tariff system – ie all the foreigners (for the purpose of this discussion – and this discussion alone – the French and Germans are not foreigners) get the same treatment. That means that when goods pass between member countries, the local customs authority doesn’t need to see what is inside the box at all. On the other hand, an FTA allows members the flexibility to decide their own external tariff policy. Canada does not need to leave NAFTA (or whatever Trump calls it) just because it has a new FTA with Israel.

Our ex-army Economics master assured us that the word ‘snafu’ stood for ‘self non-adjusting f*** up’. Assuming Britain is not willing to, at least partly, raise anchor on Northern Ireland, the equation is simple:

Independent and seamless UK + Borderless Ireland = Permanent Error.

Who IS going to check on the Irish side?

If Britain leaves the EU Customs Union (which is a fundamental of Brexit because it will enable Britain to throw off the shackles of agreements with non-EU countries that benefit other members of the EU and not Britain), it will presumably sue for an FTA with the EU. But – even if the British decide to turn a blind eye to imports from Ireland –  who is going to check the Rules of Origin on the Irish side on behalf of the entire EU?

Boris Johnson promises technology – a grander version, I suppose, of the automatic supermarket check-out trolley we have been keenly awaiting for years. There is only one problem – what they need is still the stuff of science fiction (probably not forever, but time is not on their side).  

Mr Johnson – there is a less fanciful solution, but only if the British are willing to leave it to the Irish:

 Leprechauns.

How right is the price?

It’s easier to sneak into an exam these days

The trouble with studying for an Economics degree was that every Tom, Dick and Maths geek relegated the perceived syllabus to three years of reading the Economist and watching the Money Programme. They reckoned they understood everything much better than I did, while (they thought) I had no idea how to prove zero (they thought right).

It’s a long time since I studied Economics, but I was reminded by a curious release of the tax authorities earlier this month that nothing has really changed in 40 years.

As everyone (even a Maths geek) knows, one of the pillars of progress in international taxation since the twentieth century started to wind down, is transfer pricing. It isn’t Tax, it isn’t Accounting and it isn’t International Law. It is Economics. And, because it is Economics, people tend to think that, while they wouldn’t dream of trying out brain surgery on their snotty-nosed younger brother (well, some wouldn’t), they have no problem with deciding how to allocate profit between entities in different jurisdictions. Piece of cake. I remember once being asked by a client’s CFO to read through their transfer pricing documentation. Unsurprisingly, it was like a sweater knitted without a pattern. The only thing it was good for was self-publishing as bad fiction on Amazon.

In the good old days, you could run a multinational group from here

Whatever one’s criticism of transfer pricing methods – and the dismal science ensures there is nothing like the precision of taxation and accounting – the international tax community has largely succeeded in creating a series of mutually agreed rules that, at least, ensure some level of consistency across borders. Thanks to the Base Erosion and Profit Shifting rules of the OECD that have been engulfing the world’s tax systems over the last four years, we tax planners are finding it increasingly difficult to isolate most of the profit of a group on a one-tree desert island in the Pacific with no working lavatories.

Just as barbers ceased to be surgeons, and aristocrats ceased to be relevant, the time came long ago for boardroom philosophers to hang up their “I’m not paying for this rubbish” attitude and go with the flow.

And, in my naivety (and Big 4 experience), that is where I thought we had arrived about a decade ago.

Not so fast.  In July the tax authority issued a new ‘International Transaction Declaration’, replacing the previous one. The form is designed to accompany a company’s tax return on its perilous journey through the corridors of the tax authority. While I sometimes think the tax authority has a long way to go to get anything right – and this form is no exception – it is a major advance on its predecessor. While the old form asked the assessee to ‘tell us what you’ve got’ by way of international transactions and provide a vague declaration of compliance with the relevant section of the law, the new form cheekily wants to know which transfer pricing method was used. And no amount of Economist reading or watching the Money Programme is going to provide the answer to that one.

So far so good.

Choose a form, any form

Then the fun started. Within a month (or so) of the form’s appearance, the tax authority put out a statement that, ‘due to an approach’, companies could choose which form to use for 2018, but would be required to adopt the new one for 2019.

What approach? And only one? The mind boggles as to what could have led the tax authorities to agree to pass up on the opportunity to catch all those companies still not using formal transfer pricing methods after all these years.

There will doubtless be many a small-company CFO sipping his Horlicks of an evening next to the fire, holding forth on the state of the world economy, and the universe in general,  while he knits away at his last amateur transfer pricing monstrosity.

The big bad wolf is waiting at 2019’s door.

Trust the taxman?

Perhaps not as bumbling an idiot as he looked…

My first suspicion that authority wasn’t all it was cracked up to be was at the age of 10, when I saw Lionel Bart’s newly released Oliver! Between the catchy numbers and faux-dirty actors there were two clear messages – the inhumanity of the workhouse system and Mr Bumble’s ‘The law is a ass, a idiot.’

Workhouses had blessedly long gone even then, but I have had many occasions in my long career to echo Mr Bumble’s sentiment. And if Dickens meant the term ‘ass’ in its asinine sense,  I am sometimes tempted to go with the American usage.

There have been many occasions when a sloppily drafted law has been saved by the tax authority, with liberal and, sometimes, downright anarchical interpretations that could only be strictly justified by a completely new interpretation of the letters of the alphabet used in the drafting.

There are often a lot more forms than substance

But, more often than not, it is not the case. While they will invoke ‘substance over form’ in incidences to their advantage – fairly confident that the courts will back them up if matters get that far – the authorities will fight hammer and nail to impose the letter of the law, hiding (possibly fairly) behind the excuse that they cannot ignore the written word.

And, just occasionally, they go a step too far.

If we are to believe the myriad reports of a case at the end of July, one of those steps is on the way.

I won’t dwell on the details of the case which has already been reported to saturation point, but suffice it so say, trust tax law – largely legislated with effect from 2006 – generally considers the contribution of an asset to a trust as a non-taxable event (a gross oversimplification, if ever there were one). The problem is that, for purely anachronistic reasons, Israel has a separate law for the capital gains from local real estate transactions. It, and its predecessor, simply predated Israel’s taxation of capital gains and for reasons I sadly suspect many of us understand, the situation has never been put right. The real estate law stayed silent beyond some existing archaic provisions that were essential for real estate transactions. The taxpayer argued that the transfer of real estate to a trust should not be a tax event – in logical line with the treatment of all other assets, as must have been the clear intention of the legislator – and the tax authority disagreed.

Blessedly, the committee appointed under the law  to hear the appeal of the taxpayer, comprising two respected accountants and a senior judge, found in favour of the appellant. The ruling was reasoned and well-presented doing what I, in my recurring naivety, thought  was what the tax authorities found difficulty with – filling in by stealth the missing bits of the law that should have been, but were not, there.

I assumed that would be it. The tax authorities were given a peg on which to hang their coat, and the world could carry on. The judge even recommended that the legislature add the relevant provisions to the statute so as not to permanently be required to rely on case law.

Dickens was quite obsessed with the failings of the legal system

Well, according to the professional ‘press’, I got it wrong. The tax authority is expected to blow a raspberry at the decision and pursue an appeal in the High Court.  Apart from the relative certainty that they won’t win, I don’t begin to understand what they are reported to be contemplating.

It would simply not be fair.

Those lazy-hazy-crazy days of summer

Read more…

English as a very foreign language

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One word would have been a start.

Several years ago, I returned from a quick trip to Paris on El Al Business Class. As everybody knows, El Al’s security measures are peerless, but just before the gate at Orly airport, the French insisted on putting us all through a second metal detector. I buzzed. Now, I am a big believer that there can’t be too much security, and would normally have been happily compliant as they played hide and seek with my belt and shoe heels (this was before shoe heels were a real security item). But this was France. And this was a security officer pulling on white gloves. And he was French. He barked at me in his Gallic tongue, and – despite five wasted years at school doing my bit for the Entente Cordiale – I just looked at him like a gentleman would look at a barking puppy. He barked again – and that was it; I flipped:

‘Speak to me in English! There is only one international language today, and you will speak to me in it!’

He barked again, this time signaling I should turn around. Not likely with those damned white gloves, Pierre!

I then did something rather disingenuous for the first and only time in my life:

‘I am an Israeli. I speak English. Why don’t you?’

At this point, the El Al security officer who had interviewed me earlier, and had suffered my heavily accented Hebrew, together with her two colleagues who were standing nearby, actually burst out laughing.  Suffice to say, not wishing to spend the weekend in the Bastille, I did ultimately comply. I have no idea why he wore the white gloves – he went nowhere near my Maginot Line.

What made me raise this now in a tax blog? A few weeks ago, the OECD uploaded the latest version of Israel’s Transfer Pricing Country Profile. The document involves, in the main, ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers with a space for the reference in statute law. So far, so good. But, here and there, a few short sentences are necessary. Aye, and there’s the rub.

lets_eat_grandmaHardly any of it was in grammatical English. I had difficulty even understanding some of the sentences.

This is a disgrace, and I don’t think it is restricted to Israel.

One of the principal reasons the OECD has been able to advance its BEPS international tax agenda so efficiently is that the world has learnt to communicate in a common language. This is not about triumph or ego. It is about efficiency.

And, of course, the advantages go far, far beyond tax. There really is no reason today why the sine qua non for any function in the international sphere should not be relative fluency in English. The only exception would be a prime minister or president who is elected by the people (mind you, the current president of France seems to have a better command of English than the current president of the United States.)

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My fecund imagination is starting to run away with itself

And, as for the written word, if I were the OECD, I would put red ink all over the Israeli (and any other unacceptable) entry and send it back marked; ‘Not good enough. Try again’. That is how we learnt English in school.  The stick also helped – but I wouldn’t put that in the hands of any organization based in Paris.

GILTI pleasures

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Here they go again…

Just when you thought it was safe to put the Ibuprofen back in the medicine cabinet, the IRS has issued proposed GILTI (Global Intangible Low-Taxed Income) regulations in addition to the long anticipated final ones. (For an explanation of what was supposed to be going on, see Tax Break February 10, 2019).

Back in my day, the examinations for admission to the Institute of Chartered Accountants in England and Wales were multi-stage. The last stage was supposedly the toughest (and I do not use that word lightly). I was, therefore, very surprised (and suspicious) when I turned over the ‘Financial Accounting’ paper to discover a 25 mark question that could be answered by a page of T accounts. T accounts are the graphic form of double-entry bookkeeping, providing a framework for ‘debits by the window, credits by the door’. If that still doesn’t resonate with you, it is like being presented with a first grade Arithmetic problem in twelfth grade Maths (Google translate: Math). When the official answers were published some weeks later, there was a comment by the examiner to the effect that many students had achieved very high marks by answering the question in the wrong way. That alone made me wonder whether I really wanted to join this elite group. Monty Python may have declared that ‘It’s accountancy that makes the world go round’, but from where I was looking, it was more likely to make the world go pear-shaped.

nov18_16_882299664

It was either me or the examiner

That is what I feel about the proposed US regulations – despite being neither a US taxpayer, nor US tax advisor. I shall explain.

By the time the 2018 US tax reform package in general, and Global Intangible Low-Taxed Income in particular, had been suitably chewed over, it was apparent that US corporations were unlikely to be accidentally hit with GILTI tax. (As long as their subsidiaries were paying at least 13.125% corporate tax in their country of residence, they were fairly safe, at least in the short-term). Individuals weren’t so lucky and – in order to avoid horrifically skewed tax bills – they would need to use the obscure section 962 of the tax code, electing to be treated as corporations for this income. It was a case of scratching their left ear with their right hand. And that was how it was expected to remain.

So, despite having no faith in the IRS making anything simple, I was simply gobsmacked when I saw the shock announcement last week that there are proposed regulations that will effectively exclude the reporting of GILTI income where corporate tax is paid in the foreign country at a rate of at least 90% of the US federal rate (18.9%), similar to existing – and well-oiled – passive income rules. Apart from the not-insignficant saving of paperwork for US corporate shareholders, there shouldn’t be a tax difference – GILTI tax only kicking in below 13.125% abroad. It is a sea-change, on the other hand, for individuals with companies in ‘high-tax’ countries such as Israel where they will not need to go through the fantastical rigmarole of corporate-imagined taxation. (In Israel, there will still be an issue with companies with special low tax rates).

Waidamminit! This stuff would be great for wrapping food.

What is amazing is that there is no mention in the proposed regulations of the genuine grievance of individuals that these proposed regulations will evidently redress. There were other reasons given.  In other words, it looks like something sensible and good happened (or, at least, might happen) while nobody was paying attention. Not a million miles from the examiner’s comment in that faraway accounting exam.

And, Monty Python or not, the United States economy really does make the world go round. Scary.

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