At least 70 Labour MPs, including six ministerial aides, were said to be opposed to the abolition of the 10p rate of income tax. Field could be forgiven for wondering where they all were when he voted against the change a year ago: only seven supported him. But he saw clearly that, 12 months on, it would blow into a full-scale crisis just before the local elections.

For a self-styled financial genius, Brown has botched every aspect of the dispute. The 10p rate was only introduced as a gimmick to wrongfoot the Tories and it was abolished for the same reason. But, both times, his moves were greeted by ecstatic Labour MPs, honking their approval like a herd of performing sea-lions.

Field's whole career since Labour returned to power has been a story of lost opportunities. Tony Blair made him the first Minister for Welfare Reform, with a brief to "think the unthinkable".

The way in which he was later undermined by Brown's acolytes was a downright disgrace, with the oafish Ed Balls and the foulmouthed ex-Communist, Charlie Whelan, feeding dirt to the news media behind Field's back. Blair let it happen.
This was all part of Brown's weird psychological make-up, which could keep a team of psychiatrists in business for a year and will prove to be his nemesis. On all sides, there were feuds and tantrums. He had an ancient feud with Robin Cook, dating back to some imagined slight in Scotland. When Cook went to the Foreign Office, he told his Permanent Secretary: "I know the Foreign Secretary must work closely with the Chancellor, but I want you to know that this Foreign Secretary has not spoken to the new Chancellor for more than 20 years." What a strange way to run a government.

Brown's henchmen did the same demolition job on other colleagues. Harriet Harman, who had been installed above Field, and took delight in thwarting him, soon became a casualty herself. The same happened to Chris Smith, John Prescott, Jack Straw and others.

You might think, therefore, that the last week has been payback time for Frank Field, but no one has really doubted that he is a man of principle. He did not set out to cause trouble. After the fatal Budget, he tabled question after question to the Treasury, trying to force them to spell out the impact of the 10p abolition on income distribution, and disclose the winners and losers.

It was all to no avail. He says, rightly, that the bulk of the news media also showed little interest in the subject.

Brown continued to bask in general approval. A typical Guardian profile referred to him as "the handsome personification of brooding intelligence, a firm-jawed enigma".

For Field, the 10p argument was only an incident in the whole question of taxation and human behaviour. He has been proved right in his belief that the flagship of the Brown-Balls policy, tax credits, would be a disaster.

They have made it impossible for people to improve their family's income by working harder or longer, or gaining additional qualifications.

Field believed that no free society can function when
large sections of the working population are so imprisoned in a welfare system that their own efforts can make little difference to their income.

Tracts of Britain's run-down council estates are testimony to the truth of that.

There was nothing new in this opinion. Lord Beveridge, architect of the welfare state, had rejected them because they undermined incentives to work, hampered saving and were expensive. Nigel Lawson, as Tory Chancellor, rejected them as over-complicated and prone to fraud.

None of this inhibited Ed Balls, the great thinker, as he proceeded to tie the tax system in knots until even tax lawyers had difficulty in understanding it.

Field's other plans – for the reform of the NHS for example – were also dumped.

He described the NHS as "the political live-rail" of British politics, which politicians interfered with at their peril.

But one day the centrally-funded, state-controlled system would have to be reformed. Clinging to the ration-book model, and the refusal to learn from other countries, were just postponing the day.

Brown's other legacy is the Public Finance Initiative (PFI) for financing the construction of schools, hospitals, prisons and roads.

He had originally denounced it but soon realised that it was a great wheeze for distorting the public accounts. Its merit was that, like tax credits, it excluded new debt from the Government's balance-sheet.

The result is the piling up of debt for future generations to pay.

All in all, Britain will be paying the price of Gordon Brown – and Ed Balls – for years to come. It will give no real satisfaction to Frank Field to know he has been proved right.