In France everything has its season: in February it’s skiing; in May it’s lily-of-the valley; in August it’s idleness; and in October it’s tax. This last is why, as the leaves begin to fall each year, my husband and I get together for a financial summit.
Our budgetary discussions have a peculiarly French flavour, however: rather than generating spreadsheets and instigating household economies, we hold our annual discussion about whether or not we should have a third child.
In the UK, our third child discussions were all about affordability. A third child meant maternity leave, a bigger car, an extra mouth to feed, and a third winter coat each year. Could our finances stretch that far, we asked ourselves? In France, our conversations on the subject take precisely the opposite course, for it seems that if French Presidents have one objective in mind it is that I should procreate. No, calmez-vous, there is no need for another sleaze probe: Governmental interests in this area are fiscal rather than prurient in nature.
French families get to share their tax liabilities between them, you see. This does not mean a stingy little contribution via the child benefit system (though French families get that too), but a wholesale division of the family’s tax liabilities between each member of the family. Thus the more numerous the family, the smaller the bill. Whereas the super-rich in the UK are busy messing around with offshore bank accounts and dodgy investment funds, here in France, where all you have to do is go forth and multiply, tax avoidance is much more fun.
A third child would not only reduce our tax liability by 25% but would transform us into a card-carrying famille nombreuse. Entire websites are given over to the privileges enjoyed by such families, which include state-subsidised reductions of up to 75% in the cost of train tickets, reduced entries to museums, cinemas and leisure centres,