Time-banking offers hope to the dispossessed youth of Europe

Everyone has something to offer if you treat their time as the precious commodity.

With a youth unemployment rate of 27 per cent, time-rich Spaniards have embraced the concept of time-banking, a market system where hours of life replace money as the measure of value (£):

Even though she's one of millions of young, unemployed Spaniards, 22-year-old Silvia Martín takes comfort in knowing that her bank is still standing behind her. It's not a lending institution, but rather a time bank whose nearly 400 members barter their services by the hour.

Ms. Martín, who doesn't own a car and can't afford taxis, has relied on other time-bank members to give her lifts around town for her odd jobs and errands, as well as to help with house repairs. In return, she has cared for members' elderly relatives, organized children's parties and even hauled boxes for a member moving to a new house.

Time-banking was first championed by Edgar Cahn as a way to address market failures. Cahn argues that the price mechanism, by valuing scarcity, actively defines "every fundamental capacity that has enabled our species to survive [as] worthless".

He suggests that our entire economic system – and therefore, arguably, society – is based on notions of "valuable work" and "assets" that belittle "our ability to care for each other". Because humans are hardwired for love, activities that are driven by caring or passion are theoretically abundant, but economically worthless; this means that they are relegated to volunteer work.

And so, Cahn distinguishes the "special program" that is the monetary system from the "operating system" that is the democracy, social justice and community on which the former depends. His basic argument is that we’ve neglected this "core economy" in favour of an accessory social system that is built around an arbitrary reward structure.

Time-banking was therefore envisaged as a tool to nurture our "core economy" by using the very mechanisms that have brought us such incredible material wealth – the market system. By using hours of time as the signal of worth, time-banking hopes to "create a constituency for justice" by incentivising people to "pay it forward".

For every hour of time and skill someone devotes to a time-bank job, they get an hour, from another person, back. This allows members access to services they wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford – foreign language lessons, plumbing, help with shopping, babysitting.

However, the material payoffs of time-banking are far surpassed by the community ties and sense of worth it builds. In a study led by the new economics foundation (pdf), a time-banking initiative undertaken in the unemployment-stricken area of Gorbals in Glasgow was proven to instil pride and belonging, even in the most estranged members of society (for instance, asylum seekers who are prevented from working for pay).

A key tenet of time-banking is precisely that everyone has something to offer. In particular, members of the Gorbals time-bank cited that they felt that their skills were valued. This is especially important for the unemployed, who have been deemed worthless by the market; it counters the depressing thought that you, who are unable to find a job, have nothing to offer society. Or, more simply, it reminds those whose hourly life rate has been set at £6.08 that everyone’s time is of equal value, irrespective of education, luck, and market-worthy skills.

Furthermore, the commodification of kindness afforded by the Time Banking system eliminates the awkward one-sidedness of charity. As quoted by East London Lines, Gill Stoker, a member of the landmark Rushney Green Time Bank in Lewisham says:

The beauty of time credits is that everybody gains something. No-one feels like an object of charity. I get back what I give out.

At its worst, charity scathes recipients’ pride and fuels helplessness, whilst leaving benefactors nauseous for being so condescending.

With time-banking, the mutually incited torrent of self-loathing and moral confusion is plugged by the fact that the entire system presupposes a relationship between equals.

As a young person in Europe, it is especially easy to feel desperate and estranged. While faceless Brussels technocrats and foreign leaders hold lofty press conferences, the social floor quakes.

The nationalisms we would have clung to a few decades ago are no longer relevant; my generation has grown up with a single currency and fuzzy ideas of sovereignty. This is a good thing, but can often make you forget that you are a part of something bigger than yourself or your immediate circle of loved ones. The pretext of equal exchange, by encouraging people to get to know their neighbour (however fleetingly or shallowly), serves as a catalyst for meaningful engagement with the world, rather than passive meandering. Because its hard to make sacrifices for faceless, nameless people.

A Greek man holds a time-banking coupon in Volos. Photograph: Getty Images
Photo: Getty
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The rise of the green mayor – Sadiq Khan and the politics of clean energy

At an event at Tate Modern, Sadiq Khan pledged to clean up London's act.

On Thursday night, deep in the bowls of Tate Modern’s turbine hall, London Mayor Sadiq Khan renewed his promise to make the capital a world leader in clean energy and air. Yet his focus was as much on people as power plants – in particular, the need for local authorities to lead where central governments will not.

Khan was there to introduce the screening of a new documentary, From the Ashes, about the demise of the American coal industry. As he noted, Britain continues to battle against the legacy of fossil fuels: “In London today we burn very little coal but we are facing new air pollution challenges brought about for different reasons." 

At a time when the world's leaders are struggling to keep international agreements on climate change afloat, what can mayors do? Khan has pledged to buy only hybrid and zero-emissions buses from next year, and is working towards London becoming a zero carbon city.

Khan has, of course, also gained heroic status for being a bête noire of climate-change-denier-in-chief Donald Trump. On the US president's withdrawal from the Paris Agreement, Khan quipped: “If only he had withdrawn from Twitter.” He had more favourable things to say about the former mayor of New York and climate change activist Michael Bloomberg, who Khan said hailed from “the second greatest city in the world.”

Yet behind his humour was a serious point. Local authorities are having to pick up where both countries' central governments are leaving a void – in improving our air and supporting renewable technology and jobs. Most concerning of all, perhaps, is the way that interest groups representing business are slashing away at the regulations which protect public health, and claiming it as a virtue.

In the UK, documents leaked to Greenpeace’s energy desk show that a government-backed initiative considered proposals for reducing EU rules on fire-safety on the very day of the Grenfell Tower fire. The director of this Red Tape Initiative, Nick Tyrone, told the Guardian that these proposals were rejected. Yet government attempts to water down other EU regulations, such as the energy efficiency directive, still stand.

In America, this blame-game is even more highly charged. Republicans have sworn to replace what they describe as Obama’s “war on coal” with a war on regulation. “I am taking historic steps to lift the restrictions on American energy, to reverse government intrusion, and to cancel job-killing regulations,” Trump announced in March. While he has vowed “to promote clean air and clear water,” he has almost simultaneously signed an order to unravel the Clean Water Rule.

This rhetoric is hurting the very people it claims to protect: miners. From the Ashes shows the many ways that the industry harms wider public health, from water contamination, to air pollution. It also makes a strong case that the American coal industry is in terminal decline, regardless of possibile interventions from government or carbon capture.

Charities like Bloomberg can only do so much to pick up the pieces. The foundation, which helped fund the film, now not only helps support job training programs in coal communities after the Trump administration pulled their funding, but in recent weeks it also promised $15m to UN efforts to tackle climate change – again to help cover Trump's withdrawal from Paris Agreement. “I'm a bit worried about how many cards we're going to have to keep adding to the end of the film”, joked Antha Williams, a Bloomberg representative at the screening, with gallows humour.

Hope also lies with local governments and mayors. The publication of the mayor’s own environment strategy is coming “soon”. Speaking in panel discussion after the film, his deputy mayor for environment and energy, Shirley Rodrigues, described the move to a cleaner future as "an inevitable transition".

Confronting the troubled legacies of our fossil fuel past will not be easy. "We have our own experiences here of our coal mining communities being devastated by the closure of their mines," said Khan. But clean air begins with clean politics; maintaining old ways at the price of health is not one any government must pay. 

'From The Ashes' will premiere on National Geograhpic in the United Kingdom at 9pm on Tuesday, June 27th.

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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