Neil McNicholas: Time to sink tax havens' flags of convenience

If anything could be even more amazing than the revelations that continue to surface, it might be that, as of writing this, no one seems to have said anything in the media about who exactly leaked the vast amount of information hacked from MF’s confidential files. There could be a medal in it for them.

Not surprisingly there is an epic struggle going on amongst all those trying desperately to claim the moral high ground and we are supposed to believe that no one knew all this was going on behind the locked and bolted operating façade of MF in Panama.

I’m sure it would be more accurate to say that it has actually been a huge “elephant in the room” situation – everyone knows it’s there but is tiptoeing round it in the hope that no one will ask any questions.

You don’t lift up a big flat stone when you know there’ll be a million creepy-crawlies underneath if you’d prefer not to see them.

But that’s what has happened now and suddenly everyone is reacting with moral outrage because they’ve discovered that something is rotten in the state of Panama and no doubt not a few other tax havens around the world, including one or two in our own backyard.

It should be no great surprise that many of these are the same states that operate shipping registers under their “flags of convenience”.

There are international rules and regulations governing the safe operating practices of the ships that ply our seas and oceans, but these can often be something of an inconvenience 
if you are a ship owner and would much prefer to cut economic corners and increase profits by operating a little closer to the wind.

So instead of registering with a vigilant seafaring nation that has a high regard for the safety and welfare of crew members and passengers alike, you find some little nation like Panama who will happily take your money without asking too many questions and give you a nice little flag to fly that gives you immunity from all those pesky rules and regulations that would otherwise cause you a few sleepless nights, whereas Panama and their ilk lose no sleep whatsoever once they have finished counting the revenue.

As important, morally and ethically, as it might be to unearth exactly what has been going on with Mossack Fonseca and others like them, nothing should come as a surprise.

But instead of standing in line to be amongst those casting stones, I would suggest the situation of flags of convenience provides grounds for being far more morally outraged.

We are not just talking here about the rich and famous finding (albeit legal) ways to avoid paying tax, but seafarers desperate even for a minimal wage who put their lives on the line on rust bucket ships that aren’t safe to sail on a duck pond much less storm-tossed oceans.

You will even find many of our newest and most luxurious cruise ships sailing under flags of convenience and you would have to wonder why.

Not meaning to rain on anyone’s parade, but next time you may decide on a cruise, give a thought for the, typically, 3,000 crew members who keep the ship running. And if you want to know what register the ship is operating under, they’re not going to mention that in the glossy brochures.

Questions are now being asked in the House, as it were, with the intention of making the financial dealings that help to keep the economies of the likes of Panama, the Isle of Man, Jersey and the Virgin Islands afloat (no pun intended), but there again maybe not.

Few supposedly outraged politicians are likely to be too keen on lifting that particular rock and taking a look at what is crawling about underneath in case they unearth something they wish they hadn’t.

Questions certainly do need to be asked, on moral and ethical grounds, as to why the system continues to favour and protect those individuals and corporations that can afford to pay for that favour and protection when, in fact, they can equally well afford to pay their taxes in the first place but don’t.

Meanwhile the ship of state is being kept afloat by those of us who are scrambling around in the engine room trying to make ends meet, a situation that doesn’t seem entirely fair.

Neil McNicholas is a parish priest in Yarm, North Yorkshire.