Youth unemployment hits a million

Unemployment rises to 2.62m, while youth unemployment reaches 1.02m, the highest level since 1992.

The latest employment figures are the grimmest for some time. Unemployment has risen to 2.62m (8.3 per cent), up 129,000 (0.4 per cent) on the quarter (the largest quarterly increase since July 2009) and the highest level since 1994.

Meanwhile, youth unemployment has passed the symbolic million mark. There are now 1.02m (21.9 per cent) 16-24 year olds out of work, 67,000 (1.7 per cent) more than in the previous quarter and the highest number since comparable records began in 1992. UK youth unemployment is now above the EU average of 21.4 per cent and the eurozone average of 21.2 per cent. For the record, the total includes 286,000 people in full-time education who were looking for part-time work. But Chris Grayling is deluded if he thinks that youth unemployment of 730,000 is something to boast about. The danger of a lost generation is increasing every month.

Ministers are right to point out that high youth unemployment is a long-standing problem but their policies have made a bad situation worse. Since it came to power, the coalition has scrapped the Future Jobs Fund (described by Frank Field, the government's poverty adviser, as "one of the most precious things the last government was involved in"), abolished the Education Maintenance Allowance (EMA) and announced that it will offer 10,000 fewer university places next year. All measures that have exacerbated the jobs crisis.

And worse could be to come. George Osborne promised that private-sector job creation would "far outweigh" the job losses in the public-sector but few now believe him. The ONS didn't publish new figures on public and private sector employment this month but September's bulletin showed that while 264,000 private-sector jobs have been created over the last year, 240,000 public-sector jobs have been lost, a net gain of just 24,000 jobs. Worse, over the quarter, 111,000 public-sector jobs were lost, while just 41,000 private-sector jobs were created, suggesting that the labour market is beginning to stagnate.

Osborne, who has already been forced to announce an extra £44.4bn of borrowing due to lower tax revenues and higher welfare payments, will find it ever harder to reduce the deficit as unemployment continues to rise. As the self-defeating nature of austerity becomes clear, the pressure for a change of course will become even greater.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.