Locked into poverty: Britain’s political choice

The United Nations Special Rapporteur on Extreme Poverty and Human Rights has been in Britain. He described a country in which ‘areas of immense wealth’ exist uncomfortably alongside areas of acute deprivation, characterized by cash-strapped and overstretched public services, rough sleepers and food banks, where millions of children are ‘locked into a cycle of poverty from which most will have great difficulty escaping’. His report pulled few punches. A fifth of the British population – 14 million people – live in poverty, with 1.5 million destitute, unable to afford basic essentials. By 2022, child poverty rates are projected to be as high as 40 per cent. ‘For almost one in every two children to be poor in twenty-first century Britain is not just a disgrace,’ he wrote, ‘but a social calamity and an economic disaster, all rolled into one’. Worst of all, and most importantly, he pointed out that all of this was a political choice, the result of ‘mean-spirited, often callous policies’ about which the British government remains ‘determinedly in a state of denial’.

The reality described by Philip Alston will, I suspect, be familiar to most people living in Britain. Food banks are now commonplace, as are families who rely on them. The Trussell Trust, Britain’s biggest food bank network, handed out 1.2 million food parcels to families and individuals in need in 2016-17. The Independent Food Aid Network estimates that there are more that 2,000 food banks in operation around the UK. Homelessness has also increased significantly since 2010, according to the National Audit Office (NAO), with a 60 per cent rise in the number of homeless families (including 120,540 children), driven, the NAO said, by government welfare reforms. The shocking rise in the number of rough sleepers is evident in every town and city in the country. Work is no longer a sure-fire route out of poverty. Some 60 per cent of people in poverty in Britain are in working families, often struggling with debt and poor housing, sometimes doing multiple jobs to make ends meet. It is a similar story for many of those living just above the poverty line, juggling low-paid, low-quality and insecure work, combining long hours with demanding family commitments and living in impoverished neighbourhoods where hope is in short supply. All of this – the poverty, the job insecurity, the homelessness, the stress and hardship of low-paid work, and, perhaps most of all, the absence of hope of things getting any better – are feeding Britain’s growing mental health crisis, not to mention the slow-down in life expectancy the UK is experiencing. These are all signs of a society in crisis.

Professor Alston’s analysis of the causes of this crisis are similarly hard-hitting. ‘Austerity’, he argues, has been driven not by a commitment to economic reform (the ‘living within our means’ mantra) but rather ‘a commitment to achieving radical social re-engineering’, a ‘revolutionary change in both the system for delivering minimum levels of fairness and social justice to the British people, and especially in the values underpinning it’. ‘Key elements of the post-war Beveridge social contract are being overturned,’ he continues. ‘In the process, some good outcomes have certainly been achieved, but great misery has also been inflicted unnecessarily, especially on the working poor, on single mothers struggling against mighty odds, on people with disabilities who are already marginalized, and on millions of children who are being locked into a cycle of poverty’. Local authorities, especially in England, ‘have been gutted by a series of government policies’, effectively halving their funding and preventing them from playing their vital role as a ‘social safety net’. Libraries, meanwhile, ‘have closed in record numbers, community and youth centers have been shrunk and underfunded, public spaces and buildings including parks and recreation centers have been sold off.’ The costs of austerity have fallen disproportionately on the poor, women, ethnic minorities, children, single parents, and people with disabilities, the same groups likely to be hit hardest by Brexit.

In his conversations with ministers, Professor Alston encountered a combination of ignorance, disbelief and indifference, a refusal to accept that in-work poverty exists and an unwillingness even to engage with the issues in a serious way. He will not, therefore, have been surprised by the reactions of the Prime Minister’s office, which said that Mrs May ‘strongly disagreed’ with the findings, or the Work and Pensions Secretary, Amber Rudd, who declared the report to be ‘political’ and couched in ‘inappropriate’ language. These reactions were predictable, perhaps inevitable from a government which has carefully spun a number of myths about itself, notably the myth that austerity has been unavoidable, a necessary measure justified by the need to save the country from bankruptcy in the wake of the previous (Labour) government’s overspending on schools, hospitals and social care. This narrative has a powerful hold on the public’s imagination in Britain, where a substantial proportion of the electorate believes that decent schools for all and a well-funded health service are unaffordable, despite the very obvious examples to the contrary offered by neighbouring northern European countries. Professor Alston challenges this narrative, arguing that the reforms were neither necessary nor, in purely economic terms, effective. While billions have been taken from the benefits system since 2010, they have been offset by the costs created elsewhere as underfunded hospitals, mental health centres, local authorities and police forces attempt to deal with the problems created. ‘Austerity could easily have spared the poor, if the political will had existed to do so,’ Professor Alston writes in the conclusion of his report. ‘Resources were available to the Treasury at the last budget that could have transformed the situation of millions of people living in poverty, but the political choice was made to fund tax cuts for the wealthy instead.’ Little wonder the government would rather attack the language and political nature of the report than deal with its substance.

The findings of the UN envoy represent a wake-up call and should prompt urgent action and a substantive change of direction from the government. Sadly, this seems unlikely from a government that is so in thrall to the fantasy narrative it has created that it is prepared to legislate against problems it knows do not exist, while allowing real problems such as poverty, probably the biggest challenge we now face as a society, to fester, unchecked. Nevertheless, the report represents an opportunity to take stock of where we have come to and to consider whether we really want to continue along this road. It can be read as a sort of draft manifesto for positive change in Britain. Alongside the misery of child poverty, the calamity of homelessness and the personal tragedy of women forced to sell sex for money or shelter, Professor Alston also recognised ‘tremendous resilience, strength, and generosity, with neighbors supporting one another, councils seeking creative solutions, and charities stepping in to fill holes in government services’. These are all things on which we can build, but I fear it will be to little avail if we are unable to create a different political narrative for Britain, one in which voters are not blinded by a false choice between austerity and bankruptcy. This is hugely difficult in a country increasingly divided by class, political perspective and geography, but it is essential that we find ways of talking to one another across these divides, of developing a meaningful consensus based on shared values. We need to decide who we want to be.

Poverty and inequality make these conversations difficult. Part of the reason poverty is so little reported is that it is simply not a factor in the lives of most leading journalists, who are drawn increasingly from backgrounds of privilege. Unsurprisingly, millions of people in Britain now feel wholly unrepresented by the media, their voices unheard, their views – or a caricature of them – routinely attacked or ridiculed. They feel acutely the ‘disconnect’ Professor Alston refers to between their own lived experience and the rhetoric of government ministers. As economically and socially damaging as Brexit is likely to be, it may also be an opportunity to reassess. We surely do not want to go further down the line of cutting back on public services, welfare, workers’ rights and conditions, in order to fund further tax cuts for the wealthy. This option is on the table and is, as I write, a strong possibility, but it would be a disaster on an unprecedented scale, a bonfire of Beveridge and the welfare state and a shredding of the social contract that has been weakened by stealth by successive governments. We need to find ways to mend this fabric, restoring the role of local authorities in fostering community and connection, reversing the appalling loss of important public spaces such as libraries, community centres and adult education centres and creating opportunities for people to access education that is not narrowly about training for a job. We need to revive education for democracy, for public value, citizenship and a good society. The government has been fond of telling us it will not pass on the legacy of debt to future generations. Instead, it seems set to pass on something immeasurably worse, an impoverished and divided society, shorn of its values and compassion, in which privilege is hoarded and poverty is a life sentence. It is about choice. I hope Britain makes the right one.

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Instead of flinging brickbats at the poor, give them hope

It may be that familiarity breeds contempt for individuals, but contempt for whole groups of people requires distance – cultural, social, economic or geographical (and in some cases all four).

When the Conservative Party brands itself as being ‘for hardworking people’ and George Osborne sets out plans to make unemployed people work for their benefits – using punitive language that will be icily familiar to anyone who endured long-term unemployment in the eighties, or who, like me, was part of a family (indeed, a community) that did – they are making a calculated gamble.

They believe that the majority of people will share the intuition (it is no more than that – evidence is unwelcome in politics of this sort) that the long-term unemployed are workless by choice, because they are lazy and refuse to knuckle down. They suppose that people will be willing to believe that this is one of the biggest, most urgent social problems we face.

Unhappily, they may well be right. It is natural when times are hard to look for someone to blame, and the unemployed are a convenient target. That is why this divisive technique has proved so popular for so long, with politicians of all parties. But it is ugly. It appeals to the worst in us. And while it may appear to be politically expedient, it is, morally, pretty repugnant.

What problem is such rhetoric supposed to address? It isn’t an economic problem – or at least not one serious enough to warrant the ceaseless gushing of hot air on the subject. The cost of out-of-work jobseekers’ benefits is relatively small – it amounts to just three per cent of the total welfare spend – while the vast majority of jobseekers find work within two years. And, in any case, as the government’s own research points out, workfare is the ‘least effective’ method to get the long-term unemployed back into work. If the need to bring in extra revenue really were as pressing as the rhetoric suggests and the moral outrage about people not doing their bit were genuine, as much effort would be put into pursuing and vilifying tax dodgers – a potentially much more lucrative source of income for the state, and a much more significant moral issue.

The real issue here, it seems to me, is the problem of how to manage political dissent. It is much easier to manage people’s moral outrage if it is dispersed, and especially if it can be directed towards the man across the street who has his curtains drawn all morning rather than at the real, systemic causes of worklessness and low living standards.

We should be honest about this. A party which believes in hard work and wants to promote it should also want to reward it. Yet the dreadful toll taken by in-work poverty shows that those who strive the hardest do so for very small rewards, and at huge cost to their personal and family lives. At the same, those who are unemployed and looking for work are faced with a lack of vacancies and huge competition for the (frequently low-paid) jobs that do exist.

What should a party serious about promoting hard work and self-reliance be doing? Well, it should first back the living wage (4.8 million people in Britain earn below this level – 20 per cent of all employees) and find ways of encouraging/obliging employers to follow suit. The tax payer should not be expected to subsidise employers who are not prepared to adequately remunerate their hard-working staff.

Second, it should stop attacking the poor – the vast majority of whom are hard-working – and blaming them for their poverty. Vilifying people who are already struggling on the breadline doesn’t help. It is counter-productive. Better instead to target interventions that will make a real difference, prioritising educational interventions in particular. Education is by far the best way of giving people the resources they need to take charge of their lives and change them for the better.

We hear in the press each week about how working-class parents are failing their children, sending them to school without the basic skills they need to flourish – or even just to cope. But, all too often, these parents are themselves struggling with their own lack of education, having been failed by the system the first time around. As anyone who works with these families will tell you, they want to do the best for their children, as surely as any middle-class parent does.

Instead of spending more later on the consequences of our failure to intervene where it can make most difference, we should invest more in adult education and ensure it is a core part of properly coordinated cross-departmental efforts to address poverty and worklessness. An educated, skilled and enterprising workforce is key not only to an economically prosperous society but also to an engaged, resilient and creative one (something we surely must be if we are to flourish in the harsh decades to come).

It is positive that literacy interventions form a part of Osborne’s welfare-to-work scheme – but while carefully targeted skills development should be a part of any such programme, we also need a much broader lifelong learning offer, giving people the chance to learn at different moments and in different spaces throughout their lives, in and out of work; helping create a culture of learning across – and between – the generations capable of supporting growth of every sort and accessible to the whole community. Education must be about more than employability, important though that is – it should develop curiosity and help people engage as citizens. Instead of flinging brickbats at those on the breadline, we should be offering them hope.