Living wage – coming to a city near you

The challenges are real, but the living wage chimes with the public mood.

The last time a letter left on a desk caused such a stir it involved an exchange between two senior politicians about the future of the country’s finances. This time the note was from a group of Whitehall cleaners to Iain Duncan Smith asking him to make good on his commitment to make work pay and make his department, DWP, a living wage employer. The fact that it so caught the public mood says something about how the question of low pay has risen in salience.  

This is in no small part due to the success of the living wage campaign, a grass-roots movement formed just over a decade ago, to push for a decent wage – above the minimum wage - for workers. It has helped shine a light on the rising problem of in-work poverty. In an era when there are many structural forces bearing down on low pay – from shifts in technology and trade to the continued demise of collective bargaining and the real terms falls in the minimum wage - the momentum behind the campaign for a living wage is a rare example of at least some countervailing pressure.

Yet for all the verve and campaigning success it is still the case that only a relatively small number of people are getting paid a higher wage as a result of working for a living wage employer. For example, in London it is estimated that around 650,000 employees are paid less than the London living wage (£8.30 per hour) yet only around 10,000 have gained an accredited living wage since 2005. Look at the national picture, where a total of six million employees are being paid less than a living wage, and the scale of the low pay challenge becomes clear.

None of which is to say that progress has not been made - thousands of low-paid workers will attest to the difference a living wage has made to their lives – just that the living wage faces a difficult set of challenges as it comes of age.

First, there is the need for the living wage to reach out beyond the public sector and the select parts of the private sector (relatively small numbers of high-profile financial and legal firms) where it currently resides into more mainstream employers. So it is timely that a new report  from the Resolution Foundation and IPPR estimates the impact on the wage bill of large firms across different sectors and challenges some prevailing assumptions. In key sectors like banking, construction, food production and communications - where roughly a million people in total work below the living wage – the typical impact of paying a living wage on the wage bill of large employers is pretty modest at around 1% (and that assumes a knock-on effect on wage differentials for those earning above the living wage).

Average firm-level wage bill increase in different sectors

Source: Resolution Foundation

Of course, the precise cost of a living wage will vary from employer to employer but figures of this size should be absorbable.

Second, is the need to make real progress beyond London where the campaign has traditionally been anchored. The US experience shows how campaigns can move quickly from one city to another, as was the case when the living wage movement first succeeded in securing a higher wage floor in Baltimore in the early 1990s and then quickly spread elsewhere. In the UK we’ve seen the emergence of many new city initiatives over the last year or so - Sheffield, York, and Newcastle have all set up Fairness Commissions following on from the experience in Islington - with the aim of promoting fairer pay across local public and private sectors. It remains to be seen what these processes will achieve but so far it appears that a healthy degree of civic competition is proving a useful spur – and the newly expanded base of Labour-led authorities is only likely to generate more interest.

Third, is the need to ensure that being ambitious about the potential of the living wage doesn’t mean being unrealistic about tax credits. Contrary to what many think (though not the main campaign groups) the living wage is nowhere near high enough to ensure a typical household with children can live independently of state support: indeed the level of the living wage has always been premised on full take-up of in-work tax credits. If it didn’t then the London living wage, for example, would rise from £8.30 an hour to an eye-popping £10.40.  

Finally, there is an unresolved conundrum, both for campaigners and sympathetic politicians, as to the role government should play in expanding coverage of the living wage. This is about philosophy as much as policy. Pure voluntarism, which has been the essence of the campaign to date, may well mean relatively slow progress. Too much statism, for instance through calls for legislation – effectively replacing the minimum wage with a living wage – or expensive tax incentives for employers, would, however, contravene the character of the living wage campaign which has been rooted in a civic process to get employers to take responsibility themselves for paying a decent wage on ethical grounds.  The chasm that exists between relying on moral suasion on the one hand, and top down legislation on the other, needs to be better explored.

While these challenges are real, they all arise from rare success. The living wage is an idea that chimes with the times, allied to a label that works, rooted in a progressive argument that doesn’t rely primarily on more state spending. And that puts it in a very small category indeed.

Many working in key sectors like construction are working below the living wage. Photograph: Getty Images

Gavin Kelly is a former adviser to Downing Street and the Treasury. He tweets @GavinJKelly1.

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The Femicide Census honours the victims of gender violence

The survey shows that the majority of women who are killed by men suffer their fate at the hands of a current or former partner.

 

The phrase “isolated incident” often turns up in media reports when a man kills a woman. The police use it at press conferences. It’s a code: it means the story ends here, no one else is in danger, the rest of the world can sleep safe because this particular killer does not have his sights on anyone else.

Thanks to the Femicide Census – a collaboration between Women’s Aid and nia, two specialist services dealing with violence against women – we now know how many of those “isolated incidents” there are, in England and Wales at least. Between 1 January 2009 and 31 December 2015, it was nearly a thousand: 936 women (aged 14 and over) were killed by men in seven years.

As the census reveals, the killing of women follows a very different pattern to the killing of men, although there is one thing both groups of victims have in common: their killers are almost always men.

But female victims are more likely to know their killer than male victims. In fact, they usually know him very well: 598 (64%) of the women were killed by a current or former partner, 75 (8%) by their son, 45 (4.8%) by another male family member. Killing is often what the census describes as “the final act of control”: not an “isolated incident”, but the culmination of a long campaign of coercion and violence.

This means that trends in femicide – the killing of a woman by a man – don’t match the overall homicide trend, as a 2011 UN study found when it noted that the overall rate of homicide had fallen while killings of women remained stable. But official records have long failed to recognise this difference, and there were no statistics specifically on men’s fatal violence against women until 2012, when Karen Ingala Smith (CEO of nia) started cataloguing reports of women killed by men on her personal blog, a project she called Counting Dead Women.

That was the start of the Femicide Census, now a high-powered data project on a platform developed by Deloitte. The list has been expanded so that victim-killer relationship, method of killing, age, occupation, ethnicity, health status and nationality can all be explored.

Or rather, these factors can be explored when they’re known. What gets reported is selective, and that selection tells a great a deal about what is considered valuable in a woman, and what kind of woman is valued. As the census notes: “almost without exception, it was easier to find out whether or not the victim had been a mother than it was to find out where she worked”.

Killings of black, Asian, minority ethnicity and refugee women receive vastly less media coverage than white women – especially young, attractive white women whose deaths fulfil the stranger-danger narrative. (Not that this is a competition with any winners. When the press reports on its favoured victims, the tone is often objectifying and fetishistic.)

Women’s chances of being killed are highest among the 36-45 age group, then decline until 66+ when they jump up again. These are often framed by the perpetrators as “mercy killings”, although the sincerity of that mercy can be judged by one of the male killers quoted in the census: “‘I did not want her to become a decrepit old hag.”

Another important finding in the census is that 21 of the women killed between 2009 and 2015 were involved in pornography and/or prostitution, including two transwomen. The majority of these victims (13 women) were killed by clients, a grim indictment of the sex trade. The most chilling category of victim, though, is perhaps the group of five called “symbolic woman”, which means “cases where a man sought to kill a woman – any woman”. In the purest sense, these are women who were killed for being women, by men who chose them as the outlet for misogynist aggression.

The truth about men’s fatal violence against women has for too many years been obscured under the “isolated incident”. The Femicide Census begins to put that ignorance right: when a man kills a woman, he may act alone, but he acts as part of a culture that normalises men’s possession of women, the availability of women for sexual use, the right to use force against non-compliant or inconvenient women.

With knowledge, action becomes possible: the Femicide Census is a clarion call for specialist refuge services, for support to help women exit prostitution, for drastic reform of attitudes and understanding at every level of society. But the census is also an act of honour to the dead. Over two pages, the census prints the names of all the women to whom it is dedicated: all the women killed by men over the six years it covers. Not “isolated incidents” but women who mattered, women who are mourned, women brutally killed by men, and women in whose memory we must work to prevent future male violence, armed with everything the census tells us.

 

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.