2 Years On Basic Income
An early draft of this piece was written in a hotel room from the sunny coastal town of Denia, Spain. The temperature was forty degrees (about a hundred, for you yanks), and I was in an air-conditioned room, naked, typing. I have receipts beside me as a I tried to justify some tax deductions (an ice-tea is an expense since I’m working while drinking it, right?), and a cup of coffee begging to be refilled. The sun is radiating down on the sweat stained clothes drying on the balcony, flittering through the palm branches gently rocked by the Mediterranean breeze.
It’s like something from a movie, isn’t it? A little later than this time last year, I wrote “1 Year on Basic Income” from a simple bedroom in Ireland, ignoring the sounds of gushing wind and wintery showers in the approaching evening. If it was a movie, I think I’d be guilty of some bad clichés; “Yep, that’s me. I bet you’re wondering how I got here”, or “what a difference a year makes”. But this time, the cliché is true; a year really does make a hell of a difference.
For those who haven’t read “1 Year on Basic Income”, I don’t blame you. I’m acting like it was a big deal, but, in reality, it was a minor, brief spotlight. It did well online, with Vocal even paying me a whopping $5! As I previously explained, in late 2022, I became a recipient of Ireland’s Basic Income for the Arts scheme, running from 2022 to 2025. I and 1,999 other creatives in different artistic fields were selected by lottery to take part in a research scheme to determine the benefits of a monthly, basic income payment. It’s not a lot; I’m not living outside of my means. But it means I have the time and space needed to create original works. I’m essentially a full-time writer.
In the first of this series, I covered productivity, self-management, and obstacles that arose. This time, I was interviewed and mocked by conservatives, I had finished two big projects, and I was whisked away to another country. So… what happened?
The Fun of Taxes
As part of the BIA scheme, I had to register as self-employed. For people not familiar, most Irish taxpayers who are employees go through PAYE (Pay As You Earn). You don’t have to worry about your taxes, as it’s automatically deducted with each pay cheque. Come the new year, you might be entitled to a tax refund, and you may get certain benefits if you’re under a threshold (medical, dentistry, some jobseeker’s benefits, etc). As self-employed, I have to do my own taxes, and BIA, as a government levy, is taxable income.
You may feel this defeats the point of BI. Doesn’t this put a burden on those who may not be financially savvy? I’m not here to say one way or the other. It’s a government levy, not a grant, or even award, which would be exempt. It is what it is, but this is also why I think it’s important to remember this is a Basic Income for the Arts scheme, and not just BI. The creative industry is precarious already, and I would need to register as self-employed anyway in many cases as a freelancer. That being said, I am entitled to the artist exemption, which only taxes sales/profits directly from my writing after the first €50,000. So, while the BI is taxed, profits from creative works isn’t (up to the first 50k).
As someone who is registered self-employed, I’m acting as my own business. I am allowed to deduct expenses. And, as it turns out, after talking to some accountants, you can deduct quite a lot, for dumb reasons. This isn’t a burrito! It’s a “travel expense”, since I travelled to do research and got peckish. This isn’t the complete Sandman series! This is “research material”. This isn’t… okay, it is Onlyfans. Point is, within reason you can deduct a lot. Stationary, repairs, equipment, etc.
The overall tax experience is daunting, though doable. The people at Revenue are… unnaturally helpful and friendly. Maybe it’s just my bad experience having been on welfare, but there’s a certain kind of irony to the fact the department of social protection, welfare, who are supposed to help the most vulnerable in our country, are the cruellest, most sadistic bastards imaginable, while the big, scary, Office of Revenue Commissioners, are extremely pleasant, patient, and even jovial on the phone. But as I’ve been told, they’re friendly… so long as you pay your taxes. Then… they get scary. Something I am reminded of as I’ve just gotten around to pay my taxes. I’d like to amend the famous saying to announce that I only fear two things: death and taxes.
Should BI, outside of this scheme, be taxed? No, BUT, pragmatically I think it instils people with a healthy dose of restraint and consideration, as well as taking the wind out of the sails of people who say “but who’s going to pay for this” (as you’ll soon see coming up).
I was interviewed by a major newspaper (and taken out of context).
Before I begin, I want to state I will not be naming the newspaper, nor the journalist involved. This information isn’t hidden, nor am I legally obligated to not name them, but I am doing so out of decency and as a precaution for gaps in my knowledge of what may or may not have happened behind the scenes. Plus, I don’t want to send any traffic their way, considering how I was treated, as you’ll see.
We’ll jump back to “1 Year on Basic Income”. At the time, I was still represented by my managers. One of their final acts as my representatives was informing me a journalist (let’s call them “Adam”) from a big newspaper (“Newspaper News”) had reach my piece and wanted to interview me about being on BI.
Giddy, I consented. This was pretty exciting for me; I was never interviewed about my life. Adam specialised in finance, and, going by their previous articles for Newspaper News, they occasionally did pieces on individuals with a focus on their finances; a day in the life of a London banker, interviews with a homeless millionaire, the spending habits of Oxford students, etc. My understanding, after speaking to Adam on the phone, was this article would follow a similar angle, a belief further cemented by the length of the interview (a little under an hour and a half), but also by the fact that Newspaper News sent a photographer to take my picture; I was to be the cover picture for the article.
The interview touched on everything from requirements to apply for the scheme, my reaction to the news, my day-to-day life and work, time spent working, improvements to my life, and much more. As far as I was concerned, this was going to be a very promising article, showing a human face to a very novel and abstract concept some people struggle with. Admittedly, it was also a big confidence boost for myself.
The interview happened shortly before Christmas last year, so I knew it would take a while before it would come out. But, going into the new year, with still no contact from Adam, who assured me I would be told when the article was published, I should have seen the signs that something had changed. I emailed Adam, politely giving belated season greetings before asking for an update.
No response.
They must be busy, I thought… or perhaps they grew bored. The real Newspaper News, while a good paper, lean… Tory. That is not a disparagement, but they appeal to a more conservative sensibility, one unlikely to (and didn’t, in the end) agree with the concept of BI, let alone taking the arts seriously. Without communication, and with no interest in badgering Adam further, I did the only thing I could think of; I Googled myself.
On the 27th of January, a little under two months since the interview, there I was, captured in a photograph taken on a cold December afternoon, in a dog-hair speckled black coat, a cumbersome scarf stuffed into my navy-blue jumper, and my lazily unshaven cheeks. I began to read, and my heart sank slightly, not from disappointment, but from a stranger feeling: reservation.
The article had completely changed. It featured other artists on the same scheme, which was understandable. But, as it went on, it covered other basic income initiatives, the core principles behind the movement, and even a few pieces from economists who agree and disagree with BI. It changed from a profile about the benefits of basic income, to a general overview, covering all bases.
I understand this is what happens. I understand articles change. What starts off as an interview becomes a broader examination. And I understand it may have changed for a number of reasons. Maybe Adam changed it, maybe the editor did, maybe similar articles morphed into one. Either way, the result was the same. What was supposed to be an hour-long interview became, ultimately, two minutes of out-of-context quotes.
I didn’t say anything offensive, obviously, but what I mean was, for example, me explaining that on average I was working on average twenty-hours-a-week on my own work, working from home, and able to find a healthy work-life balance, with my best week resulting in 40 hours, became two sentences saying I worked a few hours a week. No mention of averages, no mention of work-life balance, no mention of time spent on other obligations, research, and relationships. No mention of anything that didn’t make me sound lazy to the commenters below. Other things that were cut include:
- How BIA helped with the production of two podcast/audiobook series.
- How it helped with mental health issues.
- How the BIA is taxed and isn’t a welfare scheme.
- How the scheme is generating mountains of research data.
- How BIA helps those in precarious careers and keeps them off welfare.
- How BIA helps lift people out of destitution.
- How the time spent working is “deep focus” work.
- How all creative endeavours need time to contribute to the economy.
None of that made it. It was all cut. I don’t blame Adam. I don’t blame Newspaper News, either. Not for certain, anyway. But I agreed to this interview because I wanted people to learn why this is important, how it’s helped me, and how it can help others. Creatives are people, not lazy layabouts, who do what comes naturally to them, the same as teachers, nurses, scientists, or anyone with a passion to share. That’s what I wanted this interview to be.
I can’t say for sure who’s at fault, but what I can say was it wasn’t me. I gave everything I could, over the phone, on a cold, windy December’s day, and someone made the decision that I shouldn’t be heard. I’m not disappointed, I’m just very aware now that not everyone believes people with passion should be supported.
The article wasn’t a complete waste of time, as I found myself in the crosshairs of the most unhinged people on the planet; British conservative commenters. Here are a few of my favourites!
“A colossal waste of money. You’ll note that three years of free money did not put any of these ‘creatives’ in a position to earn a living from their ‘creativity’ after the taxpayer-extorted cash dries up.”
For some reason, a lot of the commenters thought the scheme at the time was over. Even the article stated it was still on-going. I think it’s a fair response to disregard someone who clearly didn’t properly read the article.
“WEF are behind all these schemes very low income and dependency on the state you are hooked.”
Ah the World Economic Forum! Remember when they were the big boogey-man. Good times.
“Why not give tax breaks to the wealthy who commission worthy work?”
… They do. You can buy a painting, lend it to a gallery or museum, claim it as a charity donation, deduct the donation, and then lend it again. Oh, and the appraisal is based on an appraiser’s estimate, so the more you do this, the more “valuable” it becomes, thus netting you a bigger deduction.
“Conor Matthews — a wannabe in the ‘arts’ luvvieland. Get a real job instead of wanting working people to subsidise your quest for fame and glory.”
Oh! This one tickles me. 1. I did have a “real job”. 2. I do have a “real job”; I’m not typing on an imaginary laptop! 3. Again, I pay tax, so I am contributing to the very schemes that support people.
“Just don’t ask me to pay for it (What are your Mummy and Daddy for?)”
I’m the scrounger, but you view your parents as the ones who should be giving you money? I mean, I’m sure your parents love you, but I don’t think the logic tracks here lad.
One accused me of watching ‘Come Dine With Me’ while stoned. Ironically, I absolutely hate that show.
Again, a quick reminder we’re dealing with British conservatives here. These are the people who unironically love Thatcher. Not loved. LOVE. So everything is transactional! Nine-times-out-of-ten, these are the same people who complain no one makes classical art anymore, but also think grants should be scrapped. WHICH IS IT!
“More ‘free’ money for lazy layabouts.”
Again, taxed. Again, dependent on contributing research. Again, I literally track my hours, and I enjoy having the time to make stuff.
“So some arty type didn’t want to do a job they didn’t enjoy preferring to live off other people’s work and taxes instead? Basically lazy dolies then.”
AGAIN! Taxed. Again. Participation. Again. Tracked. This is why I’m annoyed I was taken out of context; I pre-emptively explained all this stuff. I knew I would have to convince the type of people who wouldn’t agree with this scheme. I knew what would happen if I didn’t say anything. And sure enough, it happened because I was taken out of context. This is why context matters!
What did I learn from this experience? I learned people are letting their politics blind them to solutions. Honestly, even if they had read the full interview, I doubt they would have thought it was a good idea. They don’t even live in the same country as the scheme, yet there ready to use it as a strawman for every short-sighted view they had.
Productivity
Now, here comes the real crowd pleaser! PRODUCTIVITY CHARTS!
WOO! CHARTS! LET’S DO THIS!
Here’s the brief breakdown.
- The total time spent in “deep focus” work was 1,154 hours and 57 minutes
- *The year 1 total was 628 hours and 36 minutes.
- *The year 2 total was 510 hours and 3 minutes
- Over the course of the two years, the average weekly “deep focus” time was 11 hours and 47 minutes.
- *The year 1 average was 12 hours and 19 minutes.
- *The year 2 average was 11 hours and 5 minutes.
- The highest weekly total was 31 hours in year 1, week 33 (approx. June).
- *This was due to my partner and family being on holidays; I have scientific proof I get more done when I’m left-the-fuck-alone.
- The lowest weekly total was 90 minutes in year 2, week 66.
- *I was on holidays in Disneyland Paris.
- The most common contributors to dips in productivity were unavoidable obligations like travel, Christmas, and lulls after work was completed. Bouts of depression, which I suffer from, contributed as well.
Time is given as minutes in the chart. (Discrepancies in sums are due to rounding numbers).
Fluctuations are common across the two years, and are predictable. Christmas and holidays create lulls. The two summers, as I was working on podcast series, had spikes of consistencies, due to the amount of work required (rehearsing, recording, editing, distribution, etc), which were then always followed by drops, because of the fact most of the work was done. You can only work for so long.
I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t bother me when I see I did “less” work one week than the previous. I try to remind myself not all work is equal. An hour of me sending emails, or rendering edits is worth less than an hour of me writing or submitting pitches. I think that’s something a lot of people struggle to understand. What may look like nothing to you, may be arduous to another. Some people think an hour for an accountant, an hour for a doctor, and hour for a politician, or an hour for a teacher are all the same sixty minutes. They’re not.
And then there’s the fact I work from home; the line between life and work is extremely blurry. It’s fascinating, but people really do have a hard time understanding that just because you’re at home doesn’t mean you’re at everyone’s beckon call. So as I sit down to work, even announcing to the house at large not to disturb me, I can only go a few minutes before someone peeks their head in, asking for help, or needing me to go somewhere. I’m a people pleaser by nature, so of course I’d begrudgingly say yes, only to feel stressed and disappointed if I didn’t get as much work done as I had planned. I am my own boss, but I am extremely hard on myself. I’d be taken to court if I was this hard on an actual employee.
I should, as most creative should, take pride in the fact ANYTHING gets done. But that is very hard in a world obsessed with infinite growth, improvements, and hacks.
Time is given as minutes in the chart. (Discrepancies in sums are due to rounding numbers).
Looking at total time spent per day, we can see, relatively, all days are consistent, with Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday being the closest to each other. Sunday is noticeably the best performing day for productivity, with Monday coming in second, though with a significant drop. Saturday is just under Tuesday for the worst day. Without going into deep analysis, I can only make educated guesses as to why the averages are distributed as such.
I’ll start with the most productive day, ironically the day of rest, Sunday. As I’ve stated, I work from home and find it’ difficult to separate work and obligations. Most of the weekdays are spent on minding kids, picking a niece up from school, planning and cooking dinners, going to the shops, and general chores (clothes, dishes, etc). By the time I get to sit down to start work, I’m going back and forth between doing what I can, still being called, and trying to enjoy my own leisure time too. Saturdays, as you can imagine, are a day of relaxation but also of social gatherings and events. Saturdays are when family comes to visit, when everyone has the chance to go to the shopping centres, or to fairs, or the cinema, so of course the one real free day of the week quickly becomes just as unfree as the previous five days. So, with Sunday being really the true “weekend”, with everyone rather taking the day for rest, reflection, and mental preparation for the week ahead, it’s no surprise it was the one day of the week where I could consistently put in the most hours.
Now, if we look away from total time, to averages, we see a similar picture but with the trend now showing the latter half of the week with slight uptrend in the average time spent per day. Now, Saturday, on average, is more productive than Monday. I suspect, being the weekend, while I was more likely to lose time on a Saturday, the time spent on the Saturdays I did work was for longer periods.
It’s important to also note that in all 99 weeks so far (a little short of a full two years), not one week has been missed without at least some sort of deep focus work taking place. For 99 weeks straight, there has been an average of a little under 12 hours. 12 hours, every week, for 99 weeks straight! Ask yourself when was the last time you did anything for 99 weeks in a row, let alone 12 hours a week for 99 weeks. I worked through birthdays, through seasons, through Covid, through another country (that’s coming up). You could be fluent in another language, or a maestro in an instrument if you put in that work. If I sound aggressive, it’s because it’s infuriating when I hear people say “oh, that’s not that much”. Yeah, you’re right. It’s not. The hard part isn’t in the doing, it’s in the still doing. It’s in the showing-up, it’s in the disappointment, it’s in the imposter syndrome. Any little thing, any little effort is amazing, but to keep doing it, however little, is incredible and nearly unbelievable. You, right now, should be so proud of yourself, because you’re still trying. That’s what I hope you can take away from this. The compound effect is real. Trust the process. Fuck the comments.
I made a Spotify series (and I have another one now!)
During a conversation with another creative friend, I mused that there’s a surprising amount of admin work to creativity. There’s also a sobering amount of gambling too. Anyone who’s filled in submissions, applications, and grant forms know what I’m talking about; you’re ultimately wasting a lot of your time, but that’s what it costs (along with the literal cost of application fees). So, it’s always a little bit of a shock when something works out. Imagine the feeling when I was awarded a bursary grant by Kildare County Council to record a horror podcast based on a novella I wrote, “The Trees Swallow People”.
All two TTSP fans are pointing at their screens right now, like “I REMEMBER THAT”. To the two of you, I’ll let you in on a secret; I wasn’t done writing when I applied for the bursary grant. I think that’s the case for most creatives. We don’t have time to finish something, then spend months patiently waiting to hear back from every submission, especially when, statistically, it’s going to be a no. It sounds defeatist, but it is a good habit to get into; always be moving. You must always be going, always be creating, and, yes, always be putting yourself forward even when you’re not ready.
So, I ploughed on ahead, with a recording date in June 2023, quickly banging out the last couple of chapters. Once that was done, then came the daunting task of recording 45,000 words over the course of three days, then editing 16 hours of audio into 6 hours finished episodes across three months. By New Years, I was so worn out, no one questioned me why I was smoking a cigarette after years of giving them up.
This was all only possible with the BIA scheme; this was a period of 6 months where I was writing, rehearsing, recording, editing, producing, and distributing the audio equivalent of a full drama series. It was already a challenge with all the time dedicated to it. How anyone expects people to create new works while maintaining a full-time job is beyond me. It’s the difference between a project taking six months to complete to taking years. It drives me crazy when I hear people say this isn’t a real job, or it doesn’t count as real work. I made something! Something you can enjoy, right now, if you want. It’s free for you to here, and you can support projects like it either through donations or from buying it for yourself. I put a lot of hard work into it, which is maybe why I got the same bursary grant again!
This year’s project is a poetry collection called “One Year”, featuring 52 poems, which will be uploaded every week for a year as a podcast, but is also available as an audiobook, ebook, and print book.
Success beget success. Creatives often have to wear many hats, one being admin. We’re constantly filing, submitting, reviewing, and considering all manner of grants and awards. And while we do develop thick skin to rejection, we often wonder what the reason was. Sadly, there’s only so much money to go around, and any little thing that sets you apart from the crowd is a welcomed relief for those making the tough decisions. To get anywhere, we must bet everywhere and often. The problem is sticking around long enough to get those wins.
I got to travel
As part of the BIA scheme, I must be registered and resident in Ireland, for obvious reasons. If those Tory bastards thought I was living high on the lam in a country they don’t live in, imagine how they’d respond if I was in a country they never even heard of. I’d be lying if I said the idea of being a digital nomad, spending a few months living in some remote country, wasn’t a little appealing. And though I had no plans to ship off, in a funny turn of events I got a little taste of what that would have been like.
I began an early draft of this piece sitting in a hotel room in Spain. My partner, recovering from surgery, was in the shower, careful not to soak her stitches. It’s the 14th of July, a Sunday. Two days before, she was discharged from the hospital. Two days before that, she had bariatric surgery. Four days before that, we had landed, bleary-eyed, into a balmy night at Alicante airport. And over a month before, way back in late May, with a cool afternoon dampened by Irish clouds, my partner randomly tells me we’re going to Spain for a bariatric surgery.
Now, I’ll try to be brief, as there’s a lot of moving parts to this, but basically here in Ireland we have SOCIALISED MEDICINE! Well… kind of. Compared to the freedom loving America with their $10,000 tampons, we might as well be dirty pinkos. The main body for our medical needs is the Health & Safety Executive (HSE). Though not perfect, they are one of the reasons why I thank God I wasn’t born in the states. My partner was recommended by her doctor to receive bariatric surgery. That would be completely covered by the HSE, but unfortunately the wait list is estimated to be six-years. But, the HSE offer a second option; the Cross Boarder Scheme. The idea is simple; because EU states adhere to the same regulations, all hospitals are, relatively, the same across Europe. It is cheaper, faster, and easier to just cover the cost of the same surgery in another EU country than it is here, while also freeing up space on the wait list.
So, my partner got in touch with them, and within a few days, she was booked for July. To be honest, I was dumbfounded. Not because it all seemed sudden, but because really… there was kind of no reason for us not to go.
I extensively can work anywhere, so long as I had my laptop. I’m a pretty frugal person, so I had money saved to go, and I would even be paid while over there (I’m paid every month). We have no children, just pets that can easily be looked after, I’m familiar with Spain, and though I am a little rusty yo puedo hablar un poco de Español. It’s funny. Not only was there no reason not to go, there was every reason to go.
This was my partner, so of course I would need to look after her during recovery, I would need to be her next-of-kin, I would need to inform everyone of what was happening, and I had missed Spain so much after years of going with my family as a teenager. This was the perfect time in my life to go. If I had a more traditional job, I’d be killed for abruptly looking for paid-time-off, especially for as long as half a month. Ironically, a full-time job with regular hours and pay would have meant I would have less financial freedom and security than basic income!
So… with no choice… I travelled to a tourist destination in the middle of July for next to nothing… oh wow is me.
My partner is covering nicely, and she’s lost a lot of weight since, seeing major improvements in her mobility and health. We may never know the medical complications she’s avoided decades from now, nor by how much she’s extended her life, but what we can say is all those treatments, in the long run, would have cost the HSE more than this surgery. Similarly, the BIA scheme makes it so people on it are able to work freely and with care for their own health, avoiding the need for sick days, burn-out, or leaving their industries entirely from exhaustion, while avoiding further state supports like job-seekers allowance. In either case, the only reason anyone is annoyed by either socialised medicine or basic income is because they’re seeing the preventative cost upfront, while the larger cost is so far down the line it’s too abstract to appreciate. It’s literally a case of out of sight, out of mind.
On aside, Denia is beautiful!
Conclusion
I began this piece in the middle of July in Spain, amidst a dangerous heatwave, with the locals telling us poor, pasty paddies to stay in! It’s now late September. We’re home. I’m in my bedroom, no longer sweating in shorts and lose shirts, but in jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and a woolly fleece. Our yorkie, Poppy, is asleep on my side of the bed. It’s dark out, with a sky made of a stretching grey mass, the closest thing to stars I can see are the shimmering raindrops upon the window, sparkling from the streetlights, awaiting the next heavy shower due any moment. It’s amazing the difference three months can make. It’s amazing what two years can do. It’s amazing what a little money, a little trust, and a little hard work can make.
When I accepted this scheme, I tried, in vain, to explain what this was to my mother. Always being a concerned parent, of course her immediate response was “but what are you going to do in three years” (when the scheme is over)?
I doubt she was expecting me to be quick with my response.
“How am I to know what’ll happen in three years, when I didn’t even know I’d get this a year ago? Look where we were three years ago [Covid]. A lot can happen. So, let’s wait three years and see”.
Well, we’re nearly there, and I’m trying to remind myself of what I told my mother, as we enter the final year. My last payment is due in July 2025. I haven’t heard word of whether the scheme will continue or not. And even if it did, if it’s to go through another lottery system, there’s no promise I’d be lucky twice. I’m giving myself until Spring next year to fully immersive myself in my own projects before I start making decisions.
I began this piece in a hotel room in Spain. I began this journey staring at an email I received one morning in bed two years ago. Beginnings are a bit like endings; no one can predict how they’ll happen. It’s only the latter that fills us with dread, yet we never let new beginnings fill us with hope. It sounds sappy, but as I step into the final year of this life changing scheme, I’m feeling as though I’ve done enough to earn the right to not worry about the end, and instead focus on this new beginning. Who knows! Maybe next year I’ll start “3 Years on Basic Income” from another country again, or from a new job, or from a new production. All I know is basic income, whatever you may think of it, has had a real, tangible, measurable, and positive effect on my life.
#HI
