What community organising can teach workfare

The left can't afford to seem snobby about opportunities, but employers have obligations too.

The left can't afford to seem snobby about opportunities, but employers have obligations too.{C}

"I'll be part of history," says twenty-seven year old Jesus with a shy smile. He's just landed his first job as a caterer for the Olympics, but he didn't get it through conventional channels. His college told him about it, and the interview was held in his local church. Community organising is stepping up to the unemployment challenge.

"It was way different to a job centre," he says, "They just give you paper - these guys gave me a chance."

News that unemployment benefits might be cut off if claimants don't do unpaid work experience has infuriated the left this week. But the real crisis is not conditionality.

The biggest problem is that if you walk into a job centre, you often face a cold, bureaucratic system that treats you like a number rather than a human being.

London Citizens has found a way of doing things differently. An alliance of faith, community, union and civic groups, they have managed to place 1,200 people in jobs at the Olympic site in Stratford at a fraction of the cost of most corporate workfare giants.

They started by making announcements from the pulpits of churches, in classrooms and through their other member institutions. If you were looking for work, you were invited to screening events where local community leaders offered training and advice. If you were ready, you were given a formal interview.

The hollow transaction people were used to having with a stranger in a job centre was replaced with a conversation with someone they already knew and trusted. Holding the interviews in familiar locations meant that people performed with extra confidence.

"They were coming in with groups of friends excited to be in places they owned and belonged to", says Tricia Zipfel, a member of London Citizens who helped organise the scheme through her Hackney Parish, "There was a kind of ripple effect that went out when people told their friends they'd found work, and more kept coming."

In the end some 1,280 people got jobs out of 1,747 who participated. Many were in the "hard to reach" category, but London Citizens said it cost them an average of just £60 a place.

When employment contractors like A4e are facing corruption charges and the government's workfare programme seems expensive and non-transparent, this is a refreshing change.

Of course the Olympics are something of a special case. Employers are desperate to recruit, and the jobs they offer are often low skilled and time limited. Jesus said he was working "in catering", but he didn't know more than that. London Citizens succeeded in making sure all the jobs were living wage, but we need more information. At the moment their report for the IPPR is startlingly thin.

But as David Cameron's speech today shows, the left can't afford to seem snobby about opportunities. If the alternative is loneliness and under confidence in the home, there is a case for making work compulsory for those who are able. Responsibility is something all humans need to flourish; it's degrading to expect less.

What the right misses is that conditionality shouldn't stop with the claimant. Employers have obligations too. If you force people to work, it's fair to pay a living wage, and to offer genuine meritocracy. Few people mind going in at the bottom if there's a genuine chance of making it to the top. Employers should invest in their workforce and offer more than tick box training.

And government has certain conditions to meet too. We need to make sure that those at the bottom are given dignity in work and some kind of say over the bigger decisions in the company through genuine worker representation. The state also needs to provide the best investment, infrastructure and policy environment for businesses of all types, so we don't just have a low wage economy with low skilled jobs to offer.

When those conditions are met, conditionality on the claimant won't just cease to be a problem, it might not even be necessary.

Rowenna Davis is a councillor, journalist and author of Tangled up in Blue: Blue Labour and the Struggle for Labour's Soul, published by Ruskin Publishing at £8.99. She is also a Labour councillor.

Rowenna Davis is Labour PPC for Southampton Itchen and a councillor for Peckham

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times