The riots: local leaders are the answer

It's rather hard to attack people that are so obviously a part of your community.

The riots were a game-changer. The sheer scale of the criminality tells a story in itself - 15,000 participants, 5,000 crimes and a cost of £0.5bn. Until now, crime has rarely impacted on most of us - if you live in the category of neighbourhood most affected by it, you suffer twice the rate of property crime and four times the personal crime than those in the next worst. Crime rates have remained relatively steady over the years, but distribution has become increasingly concentrated.

The social changes that lead to the events of August 2011 didn't happen overnight. They took years of neglect, of declining educational standards for the poor, of poverty, mental illness and drug addiction festering in depleted social housing stock, of bad parenting passed down from one generation to another.

Many of the comments below will say we need to be tougher, that we can police the problem away. And there's plenty to be said for getting the most damaging members of society out of circulation, and showing that law-breaking comes with consequences.

But even if you ignore the fact that reconviction rates within two years continue to hover around the two thirds mark, there's a bigger problem: it's what we've been trying to do for years. When New Labour said they were tough on crime, they meant it: they needed an independent commission to decide on sentences due to overcrowding and three new super-prisons housing 2,500 prisoners had to be built. When you consider that it costs nearly £40,000 a year to keep someone in prison, you have to ask: how much further can we afford to go?

Can we bang up the children of the 500,000 "forgotten families" cited in today's Communities and Victims Panel report the moment they step out of line? When writers like me talk about the importance of preventative work, we don't do so because we're hand-wringing lefties: we do it because shutting the door before the horse has bolted makes good economic sense.

Now the shroud has been peeled away, everyone's looking for answers. Today's report leads with materialism and poor school attainment. The headline factor from the Guardian's research was the poor relationship between communities and the police. No doubt commentators will again talk about parenting, unemployment and all sorts of other reasons over coming days.

All of these arguments carry weight, and they are all things which, little-by-little, we need to work on. But the fact that the riots were so widespread has obscured an important point. At heart, this is a local issue. When I researched street gangs, it wasn't hard to know on which estates to look. Riots and gangs are born of many of the same factors, and as it happens the location of the riots almost mirrored my book chapter-by-chapter.

Within these places, there are more criminals than average, but there are many more people who want to make their neighbourhoods better. Community empowerment and organisation are the answer to many of these problems. When the situation in August exploded, we cried out for the return of Boris and Dave, not for the leaders of our local council.

The market traders of Maida Hill held their market on the Tuesday of the riots - they were, in their words, willing to fight anyone who'd come steaming down the Harrow Road. The Sikhs of Southall who decided to defend their temple were untroubled. Perhaps the show of strength was off-putting; more likely, they were untroubled because it's rather hard to attack people and things that are so very obviously a part of your community.

Crime doesn't happen in a bubble. What we need to look at are ways of increasing - and it's a horrible, wishy-washy phrase - community empowerment: to take advantage of the dormant goodness that lies inside most of us. There were many who didn't know, or care, what their sons and brothers were up to during the riots. There were many more who did, but felt powerless.

The "big society" has quietly died a death. But there are plenty of examples of it around our cities and always have been - mostly in the voluntary sector, where local organisations fill in the gaps in state provision at short notice and with sporadic, unreliable funding. They need people to get involved and help out - people like you and me. The gnashing of teeth over the riots will continue for some time yet. No doubt it'll resolve itself into an old-fashioned political point-scoring match, fuel for a thousand twitterspats and occasional barbs in the House of Commons. And it'll be the greatest tragedy of all, because the answer to most of these problems is right under our noses.

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, the Times, Private Eye, The National & TLS. He lives in London and tweets as @aljwhite. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture, republished this year.

A British riot policemen walks past a burning furniture store in Croydon. Photograph: Getty Images.

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National and the TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture.

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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.