We're solving the pay gap - the wrong way

Time for a better debate about what is happening to the pay of women and men.

One of the longest-running campaigns in modern British politics is that for equal pay. As many have pointed out it's over 40 years since the Equal Pay Act yet the gender gap still persists. The good news is progress - even if it is all too slow - is being made. The bad news is that the reason that progress is being made is due to male wages stagnating.

Figure 1: Full-time pay gap, 1997-2011 (median £ hourly pay excluding overtime)

But first, let's pause on what we mean by the "gap". Typically the headline measure used (favoured by the ONS) is that between full-time male and female median pay - that is, typical full time wages (others argue that the "mean" wage should be used as this captures big gender inequalities at the top of the earnings spectrum). But any headline figure cloaks the reality that if you segment the jobs market by age, occupation, or income a different story emerges about pay inequality.

Take age. There isn't a pay gap for the under-25s, and only a pretty modest one for the under-30s. A larger gap starts to open up for those in their 30s, which then increases dramatically for those 40 and above.

Or look at part-time work, which is excluded from the headline pay gap figure. The part-time pay penalty affects millions of women, appears to be getting larger over-time, and, sadly, is bigger in the UK than anywhere else in the EU. There are certain types of jobs that tend to be offered part-time and they are concentrated in low-paying sectors. The result is industrial scale occupational downgrading following childbirth - 48 per cent of mothers on low to middle incomes take a lower-skilled part time job after having children (the figure for graduates is 42 per cent). The price is paid by individual women but also by the wider economy too. The part-time penalty is also likely to reflect a major power imbalance in local jobs markets: big employers appear able to hold down part-time wages in part because there are many women needing to work very locally often due to caring commitments.

There are, of course, many different reasons for the pay gap. And once economists consider some of the main factors such as skill levels, occupation, and time spent out of the labour market a chunk of the "gap" is accounted for (pdf) though a very large part isn't (studies often show that the majority remains unexplained).

How to interpret all this is a matter of some controversy. Those who want to dismiss gender inequalities often imply the "unexplained" gap is largely a mirage or a reflection of female preferences about the nature of the employment roles they want to undertake. Which is an account that entirely side-steps the crucial question of why it is that female-dominated sectors of our economy are so often afforded low status and low pay. I don't think we can put this down to a series of coincidences.

The question of how much of the headline pay gap can be "explained" is often where these discussions about gender and pay end. Except they shouldn't. Because vital though it is, on its own it doesn't get to the heart of some fundamental changes in the nature of gender, work and pay - changes which are also showing up in the shifting nature of poverty.

For a start, if our eyes are trained solely on the headline pay gap we may miss the fact that the reason it continues to fall is changing. Throughout the late 20th century we got used to the idea that with a growing economy typical male wages should generally rise, and female wages should slightly outpace them as they catch up. There would be two rising tides, but the female one would rise faster.

Not now. The progress made on the pay gap over recent years has resulted from female wages climbing slowly while the typical man's pay has flat-lined. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

Figure 2: GDP per capita and full-time wage growth by gender, 1971-2011 (indices of GDP and median wages 1971 = 100)

Dig deeper, as new work by Paul Gregg with the Resolution Foundation does, and we find the pay gap between mothers and fathers has been closing significantly faster than that between men and women more generally - suggesting shifts in earnings responsibility occurring within the family. Moreover, we are also seeing important changes in pay within the genders. Among women we see that since the mid 1990s mothers have experienced faster wage growth than other women. The opposite has happened among men: the wages of fathers' have fallen behind those of other men, to the tune of almost four per cent over the same period. All of which is pretty striking. And none of which is illuminated in changes in the headline pay gap.

We don't know for sure what is behind these trends. But we do know that the pay inequalities within families tends to be self-reinforcing. Couples often arrange their affairs to benefit the career prospects of the highest earner - for instance, in terms of who opts to go part-time following childbirth, who does overtime, or indeed whose job prospects it would be worth moving house to further. These decisions tend to greatly magnify any pre-existing pay differentials within the family. In the past this would have overwhelmingly boosted men's pay at the expense of women's. But with the pay gap for those in their 20s having largely disappeared it may be that there is a growing number of households where these family adjustments are benefiting the mother.

Another possible explanation would point to the rise in part-time working by men - a longer term trend that has accelerated over recent years due to the sharp growth in under-employment. Perhaps there is a bit more equality in how the part-time pay penalty is being shared out across the sexes (pdf), with more men now suffering too? There is bound to be some element of this going on. But this can't be the main explanation not least as male part-time working is still the exception rather than the rule, and because the increases we've seen have been more concentrated among men without children rather than fathers.

Figure 3: Rise of part-time work amongst men

Whatever the cause, it's pretty clear that the poor performance of men's wages - particularly fathers - is closely related to another little noticed trend we see: the steep rise in poverty rates among "single earner couples" (the great majority of whom still have a male bread winner). This group now accounts for a larger share of overall child poverty than out-of-work lone parents.

Figure 4: Poverty by family type, 1994-95 to 2009-10

Like many things in politics it's not hard to see how these shifting patterns of pay and family disadvantage could be used to help justify competing policy agendas. Some will react to the demise of the traditional male breadwinner family by claiming that this only reinforces the case for a transferable marriage allowance (let's leave to one side the fact that many of these single earner couples won't be married).

Alternatively, and for me far more convincingly, the pivotal role of female employment in securing rising living standards for low to middle income households, and the persistently low levels of child poverty in dual earning households, should be seen as a spur to a policy agenda that would increase the affordability of childcare, reduce the part-time pay penalty for women and men (by expanding higher quality part-time work) and favour welfare reforms that encourage rather than deter second earners (the impending universal credit is about to do the opposite).

Regardless of which of these views you favour, what should concern both sides of this debate is how little each has to say about the underlying cause of male wage stagnation - particularly among low-earning fathers and young men. That's an issue everyone across the political spectrum should be focussed on. Yet silence reigns. So let's rightly redouble our efforts to close the pay gap. But let's make sure we close it the right way.

 

40 years since Barbara Castle passed the Equal Pay Act, the gender gap still persists. Photograph: Getty Images

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

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A year in my life as a Brexit bargaining chip

After Brexit, like many other EU citizens in Britain, I spent a year not knowing what my future held. Here's what that was like.

I moved back to the UK in January 2016. I like to say “move back”, because that’s how it feels – I loved living in London so much during my Erasmus year that I always intended to come work here after graduation. 

I am French, and a journalist, and live in north London. I refer to the UK as “home”. By all appearances, in January 2016 I am part of what budding Brexiteers call the “liberal elite”, even though I rent a single room and my most expensive possession after my laptop is a teapot.

But by June, I have been given a new label. I am now one of the 3 million “EU citizens in the UK”. As Britain heads toward turbulent negotiations to leave the European Union, following a referendum in which I did not have a vote, I have become a “bargaining chip”. 

This is my account of that year.

April 2016

Moving back includes chores such as getting a UK phone number, a National Insurance number and opening a bank account – three tasks that go even smoother that I thought they would. For the bank account, I have been advised to go to Lloyds Bank, which makes it “easy for Europeans”. (A thread on Twitter recently proved it also is more inclined to help refugees than other banks.)

I also eagerly register to vote – another right of mine in the UK under EU rules, for local and European elections. And I am excited: I will have a vote in the London mayoral election.

I closely follow the referendum campaign. “Vote Remain” signs and stickers are omnipresent in my  neighbourhood.  I feel reassured. So do the other EU nationals quietly passing me in the street. “I don't recall seeing any Leave Campaign. It made me think it would be an easy win,” echoes Tiago Gomes, 27, a Portuguese musician.

In the pub, I get into a testy exchange with an acquaintance who holds French and British passports and is proudly campaigning for Leave. I struggle to understand why. Maybe, just like Ukip leader Nigel Farage, he knows he has a way out, if it all goes to shit.

Worried that people could wrongly see me as a Brexiteer because of my Union Jack Converses, I put a “I’m IN” sticker on each roundel.

May 2016

I vote in the London mayoral election. I have voted many times in France, but this is different – I am almost a Brit! I even take a happy selfie with my polling card, like a proud 18 year-old.

This turns out to be the only UK election I will ever have a vote in, as a friend will note a few months later.

June 2016

Jo Cox MP is murdered on the streets of her constituency. I report on the murder all afternoon and when I get the tube home, I feel shaken. A Leave supporter enters the tube carriage with an England flag. I want to ask him: "Do you even know what happened?" But I say nothing.

The violent turn taken by the campaign is felt in London, too. Samir Dwesar, a 27-year-old parliamentary assistant, remembers the abuse he suffered while campaigning for Remain: “I was called a p**i, and told to go back to ‘your f’ing country'.” Samir is British and has lived all his life in Croydon, South London.

Yet I am hopeful on 23 June 2016. I blow up “I’m IN” balloons, taste EU referendum cupcakes from my local bakery. I’m living history.

And it is history. I doubt anyone in Britain, and especially the country’s EU citizens, will forget the nightmarish morning of 24 June 2016. My heart sinks as I read the BBC news alert informing me I am no longer home – not really. On my wall, a poster of the Private Eye cover “What Britain will look like after Brexit”, which I found hilarious in April, looks like a doomed omen.

The mood is low among all Europeans. For Nassia Matsa, 27, a Greek woman from Athens who has lived in London for 9 years, it is even worse: 24 June marks her birthday. “Nigel and Boris ruined my birthday,” she says.

At least in London we are not alone. I discover many Brits identify as European. When I finally leave my house, my neighbourhood is still plastered IN signs and EU flags. “I found myself offering support to my British friends,” says Matsa. “Were talking about Brexit with an Italian, Swiss, Croatian, French and me, and all of us Europeans were comforting a Londoner who was ready to cry.”

July-August 2016

I go to France for a summer holiday. Everyone keeps asking what my situation will be in the UK after Brexit. My answer is always the same, and still hasn’t changed: I have no idea. My dad spends months repeating that Brexit will not happen: “They’ll realise it’s a mistake.” (They don’t.)

Bad adverts with Brexit puns bloom on the Tube. "We're Out," proclaims one for a city lifestyle app. I don’t laugh. But at least I don't have any Facebook friend boasting about Brexit. Mikael David Levin, a 24-year-old Italian who has lived in London for 16 years, does. "Their statuses frustrate and irritate me," he says. "They do not know how 'lucky' they are to be born in the UK."

After David Cameron’s resignation, the Tory leadership election and Theresa May’s premiership, the discussion focuses on when to pull the trigger, and what to do with people like us in the meantime. We are now, officially, bargaining chips.

September 2016

I start flying with my passport when I visit my family in France, even though I know my French ID is still valid until Britain officially leaves. At Stansted airport, the limited life expectancy of the “EU only” line makes me gloomy. Alex Roszkowski, a 27-year-old Polish-American who has lived in London for a year and a half, tells me he may now carry both his passports on every trip, as well as “copies of [his] lease, numerous old envelopes with [his] name and address, [his] business card".

Those EU citizens arriving in the UK have surreal experiences too. Joseph Sotinel, 28, who moved to London from Paris in September, encounters a bank official, who tells him: “Thanks for coming to the UK, you are still welcome no matter what.”

“It was as if I had done something heroic,” he says. “It was absurd.”

October 2016

Registering all EU citizens in the UK could take 140 years, according to a cheery statistic.

We are seeking an early deal to secure the rights of EU citizens, says the British government. Companies employing EU workers must provide a list of their employees, says the British government. Companies employing EU workers won’t have to provide a list of their employees, says the British government. EU citizens will need a “form of ID” in post-Brexit UK, says the British government.  EU citizens must be prepared to leave, says the British government.

Literally no one knows what will happen to EU citizens.

November- December 2016

EU nationals who have decided to apply to permanent residency or British citizenship start receiving letters urging them to leave the country. I fear mine could follow and think about it every time I get post. I read an article advising EU citizens to collect proof of living in the UK. As I am a lodger currently working freelance, I start keeping every single one of my shopping receipts in a box, and consider asking British friends for reference letters.

Matt Bock [unrelated to this journalist], a German freelance renewable energy project manager, worries about how to provide documentation showing he was living in the UK before Brexit too: “I don’t have an employer, I am outside the UK for a large amount of time for work, I am a freelancer largely paid by my own German company, I don’t have private health insurance, I am not married and I haven’t even been here for the prerequisite 5 years.”" He has chosen not to apply to right to remain because his chances of success are "remote", and says he is "ready to leave if need be."

As I, like Matt and many EU citizens, start thinking about moving back home, others rush to move to the UK. Alexandra Ibrová, 26, a Czech PhD student, moves to London on 28 December, worried she could not get a National Insurance number after 15 March. “I was trying to get the appointment before that date because it is actually the only official document that proves that you have been living here before the cut off date,” she says.

January- February 2017

Gina Miller’s legal challenge forces the government’s Brexit bill to go to a vote in Parliament. I am hopeful, for about five minutes, that the Labour MP Harriet Harman’s amendment to secure my rights has got a chance. It doesn’t. I complain about Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn’s three-line whip to my local Labour councillors during their Sunday canvassing. “As a traditionally left-wing voter, I'm more angry with Corbyn's Labour than with the Tories,” echoes Marta Maria Casetti, 39, from Italy, in London since 2006.

March 2017

The day before the triggering or Article 50, the Haringey LibDems send me a letter in “support” of EU nationals. I am now a bargaining chip and a stat on a micro-targeting list.

On 29 March, Theresa May officially begins the Brexit negotiations, even though 2017 is the worst possible time to leave the EU. It has almost been a year that 3 million people living in the UK have been left in limbo.

I don’t own a house or have children at school in the UK. Many EU citizens do – they have built their family life in this country, and now fear they may lose it all overnight.

Adriana Bruni, 44, an Italian who married an Englishman and has lived in Chelmsford for six years, says her family would not exist without the European Union: “From today [29 March], a family like mine will never be formed in the same way again.” Bianca Ford Epskamp, a Dutch national and school governor who has lived Dorset since 2001, adds: “Both my children are born here, go to school here, have made friends. I've always been employed, contributed, paid taxes, do voluntary things. Morally, it’s draining.”

Elena Paolini, 51, an Italian translator married to Brit who has lived in London for 27 years, says she doesn’t believe EU nationals will be deported, but she is concerned about her access to the NHS, pensions or bank accounts. She asks out loud the question that has been floating in all our minds for months: “Will I be considered a second rate citizen?”

As for me, I used to say I wanted to be British. I don't say that any more.

Update on 23 June 2017

Last night, Theresa May told EU leaders in Brussels the UK government would offer the same rights as Britons to EU citizens who arrived "lawfully" before Brexit. I can't help but think that it took a year to guarantee rights me, and the other 3 million, already had and took for granted up until 23 June last year.

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