Helen Martin: Good riddance to moaner Michelle

Published on Monday 4 May 2009 09:57

MICHELLE MONE is a well-presented, attractive, well-publicised success story. But in the last week she has shown the ugly face of Scottish entrepreneurship.

Not only has she railed against the perfectly justified proposition that those who earn lots of money should pay more tax and joined the ranks of those threatening to quit our shores, taking her business elsewhere. She has also signed up to the lobby calling for the jobless to be made to work for their benefits, suggesting they could be set to gardening, painting or removing graffiti. The same – some would say excessive – self-belief that made her company millions, has led her to the delusion that if she can do it, anybody can . . . so why aren't they?

Michelle Mone, like many entrepreneurs, was lucky. She came up with the right product at the right time and found a lucrative market. Had she tried the same thing in the sixties when a flat chest was every girl's dream, the idea would have bombed. She risked everything on her gamble and it paid off. However much she likes to think her wealth is the product of sheer hard work, Lady Luck had a huge hand in it.

We live in a competitive, capitalist society and, fair play to her, she won. But whose advice would you take in a casino . . . the winner who broke the bank and tells you to stake your house on it, or the loser who warns you that for every millionaire, there's a destitute on the street?

Entrepreneurs are also fond of talking about "wealth creation". There is, of course, no such thing. These people are not medieval alchemists who turn stone, or in this case bras, into gold. Nobody "makes" money, they simply manage to attract more of it to themselves and therefore admittedly, they can employ others. They get a bigger slice of the cake – which inevitably means someone else gets less. That is why it is only fair that the rich pay more, much more, tax than the poor.

Yes, we have more people making large sums of money. We also have more people making correspondingly less. Work your socks off for 40 hours a week on the minimum wage and you'll earn 10,000. That's if you can find a job at all. And with unemployment certain to hit two million soon, this is hardly the time to be penalising people for being jobless and idly reclining on a pitiful 45 a week.

Forget the notion that anyone earning over 150,000 is going off to bank in the Cayman Islands. There are loads of ordinary people on PAYE earning that much; doctors, council officials, some people in education, lawyers, administrators, some journalists, bankers, managers, accountants, retailers, the list is endless . . . and not all are worth it. The gap between rich and poor has grown. 150k is rich, so why shouldn't they pay higher tax?

Probably most offensive is her idea that the unemployed should do gardening, painting or graffiti removal in return for benefits. Doesn't she know that all these are real jobs which real people already do to feed their families? What would happen to them if their work was suddenly devalued, priced below the market and done by others for nothing? Here's an idea for a recession Michelle. Create more paying jobs, not fewer. We can't all make bras for a living – or can we? How would she feel if uplift bra-making – pointless though it is – came under the heading of free community service?

In times like these, arrogance, smugness and the willingness to hector and lecture the poor are not attractive features among the rich, who should be a little more thankful and humble about their good fortune.

After a lifetime of Labour support, Ms Mone is jumping ship because, for once, she's being told she has to pay her rightful dues. The chips are down and the lady wants to run out of the casino with her winnings. Good riddance.

British beefcake

Attitudes between Britain and the US remain blessedly different in many walks of life, not least in television where America enjoys near global domination.

Take Gene Hunt in Ashes to Ashes, played by Philip Glenister. Gene's a politically incorrect man's man, an extreme even for the eighties. He looks, well, interesting rather than drop-dead gorgeous. He's the fantasy bloke women are drawn to against their better judgement, for a fling, an encounter, but never a marriage. And he's become a major loin teaser rather than a heartthrob. The receding hairline, matching receding chin and coal-nugget stare somehow does the business. It's all a question of attitude, which Gene has in abundance.

Glenister by comparison, bikes his way round London with a backpack to lose weight, walks his kids to school and is in no doubt that: "It's Gene Hunt people find sexy, not me." He's ruled out plastic surgery, saying: "My God, I'm way past that."

So, no fake, white, even teeth. No hair transplant. No high-profile adoption of exotic orphans. No tinted window limos. Just a convincing actor. Now that makes you proud to be British.