Move over Paschal, I would be an outstanding minister for finance

In what will, I am sure, come as a surprise to those who have encountered your humble Brussels correspondent, I can now let it be known that I have achieved star rating as a minister for finance. Top marks. Stand aside, Paschal.

It's official, in an EU sort of way. The European Commission – in the form of Pierre Moscovici, the commissioner responsible for keeping an eye on all our budgets and our ministers for finance – has this week brought out an app for schools that encourages students to become finance minister of the small and perfectly formed republic of "Taxlandia" for a day. And then rates them. (There's a link to the game from the new tax education portal at europa.eu/taxedu)

And yours truly was told that, despite a bout of profligate virtual spending, "you are one of the few people to make the country flourish again. You will go straight into the history books". The history books, no less. In with Adam Smith, and John Maynard Keynes. Beat that Paschal!

And all on the basis of Economics 101 all those years ago in first year – mind you that’s more than some of Paschal’s predecessors . . .

When the British mention the Border, I turn to Lewis Carroll

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Human happiness

Tax has a bad name. It is much misunderstood, our Pierre believes. It’s not just something you avoid, or evade, or minimise, a burden or a disincentive. Oh no, as finance minister in Taxlandia you discover that tax can be spent, spread around, invested. You can use it to build hospitals and schools, places of culture, green spaces, airports. It can be a safety net. A source of human happiness (there are points every time you raise that quota).

The commission believes that a bit of imaginative rebranding of tax “can contribute to the fiscal education of young European citizens and reduce tax evasion and fraud across Europe”. That’s optimism for you. But, as games go, although not as fun as managing a Premier League football team, there is something compulsive about wielding the fiscal axe in little Taxlandia which, incidentally, sounds a bit like a place we all know well.

“What you inherit” as finance minister, the app tells the would-be chancellor, “is the former government’s minimum tax level of 10 per cent. Low taxes encouraged many companies to set up headquarters in the country. High public revenues allowed for high salaries and investment . . . ”

But “during the last decade the global economic context changed. Major competition from other countries affected Taxlandia’s development rhythm . . .” Infrastructure investment is badly needed.

Crowd-please

To raise taxes, or not to raise taxes, that is the question our chancellor faces as he/she make crucial choices. A power plant? A road? A new hotel? The player can crowd-please and raise his happiness quotient or he can defer pleasure by painfully raising taxes to invest. Every decision has a downside. No such thing as win-win economics, only hard choices.

It’s not exactly Ireland, but Pierre’s very French message, quite subtly, is that a low tax model is not ultimately sustainable. You need to raise taxes if you want to be able to spend them. And taxes are a good thing.

Actually, though I say it myself, this business of running a country is really not that difficult.

And so I thought I’d do it once again. Just change a couple of the assumptions – put some more into education, a bit less into props for business, and maybe up the tax take. The North town could do with another theatre, and South, a rainy-day fund . . .

Hit “save”.

Oh dear.

“You have failed. People demand your resignation. The population is very unhappy. You have to resign from . . . office. But you have learned a valuable lesson . . .”

Zut, as Pierre might say. Maybe the economists’ pantheon will have to wait. You are fickle Mr Moscovici.