The UK government is preparing to publish a white paper on "rewiring the state" later this month, detailing plans to hand over more income tax revenue to England's regional mayors. Rachel Reeves floated the idea in her Mais lecture; Andy Burnham's government has embraced devolution as central to growth policy. The problem: Whitehall has no functioning accountability framework for the money once it leaves Westminster. The options under consideration range from conventional to radical. A new select committee, enhanced reporting rules, a dedicated audit body for local and regional government, and — most dramatically — the power for electorates to recall spendthrift mayors between elections. None of these exist yet. The Audit Commission, which once performed exactly this oversight function, was abolished in 2015 and its responsibilities scattered across several bodies, leaving a structural gap that has never been filled. Meg Hillier, chair of the Treasury select committee, has staked her claim to the scrutiny role, arguing that existing select committees should judge devolved spending through clear lines of authority running through departments to ministers. Her position is that accountability for local spending is "just as important" as at the national level — a statement that reads as obvious until you note that England has operated without this principle for a decade. The Institute for Fiscal Studies has flagged a deeper design problem: without "equalisation payments," areas with the highest income tax bases — principally London — will pull further ahead of other regions. David Phillips, the IFS's devolution expert, warned that the government must decide how large a gap between "winners" and "losers" it is willing to tolerate. This is not a technical question. It is the political question that will determine whether devolution reduces or reinforces regional inequality. The tension at the heart of this policy is real and unresolved. Mayors need fiscal incentive to pursue growth — that is the entire theory of devolution. But incentive without equalisation means rich regions compound their advantage. And devolved spending without audit means nobody catches misallocation until the damage is done. The government is simultaneously trying to build the engine and the brakes. Burnham's new No 10 North office signals political seriousness, but it also concentrates the devolution agenda around a single political personality. If the accountability architecture is not built before the revenue flows, the default scrutiny mechanism will be the next election — which is too slow and too blunt to catch misuse in real time. The core question is sequencing. Every serious devolution programme in democratic history has faced the same challenge: do you build oversight before or after the transfer? The UK abolished its oversight body a decade ago and is now rushing to design a replacement while simultaneously expanding the powers that require it. That is not inherently fatal, but it is the kind of structural risk that compounds quietly.
