Hundreds of jobs are axed by Ford, and we're letting them get away with it

Our current industrial strategy is allowing the company to undermine public trust.

Over 1,400 families are still in shock. Ford’s decision to close plants in Southampton and Dagenham left workers blindsided after almost a century of UK production. At a time of recession, there is a deep concern for the economic wellbeing and material welfare of these workers, as well as many more subcontractors and suppliers. These quality jobs will no longer be available for young Brits. Another nail in the coffin for British manufacturing. The makers are marching straight out of the country.

We are told that it’s inevitable. Of course Ford is now focusing its operations in Turkey. In a brave new world of global competition, this is how we operate. Automobile companies are as cold and sharp as the steel they manufacture; ready to cut and shift production at a moment’s notice. Sympathy is unaffordable. Responsibility and relationship to people and place is naïve. If we want to win the economic war, workers may be collateral damage. The bottom line dictates the show.

But this narrative has masked the deeper failings of Ford and of government. In a meeting earlier this week in Westminster, a little-attended parliamentary debate revealed what is really happening. MPs of all sides dismissed Ford’s behaviour as “shoddy” and “grubby”. The failings of the government’s industrial strategy began to be exposed, and the consequences for the British taxpayer revealed. Three key questions strike to the heart of the problem.

First, why were ministers kept in the dark about Ford’s decision? The business secretary Vince Cable is on record saying he knew nothing about the company's decision to close the plant until just a few days before it was announced. Despite the fact that ministers had 12 meetings with Ford since taking office, Michael Fallon MP said there was “no opportunity to discuss (closures) as we would have liked.”

MPs at a local level went further, claiming they were actively misled by Ford. Alan Whitehead, MP for Southampton Test, said he had received “cast iron” guarantees that local production would continue. Jon Cruddas, MP for Dagenham, said workers were “blindsided” by the decision. Chris Huhne, MP for Eastleigh, called for the minutes of all meetings with Ford to be published from 2008, questioning whether the company gave false impressions of growth to benefit from cheap government loans. John Denham, MP for Southampton Itchen, said that the last communication he had with John Fleming - now head of global manufacturing at Ford - was an email saying that they were planning to increase operations in Southampton.

“Reputations are hard won and easily lost,” says Denham, “I’m sorry to say it will be a long time before MPs will be able to sit down with Ford representatives at the other side of the table and believe they will keep their word.”

Ford insisted they didn’t make their final decision until 19 October – less than a week before ministers were informed - but that doesn’t explain previous assurances.

Second question. Why are British taxpayers supporting Ford’s new line of vehicles outside of the UK? This summer, the European Investment Bank (EIB) gave Ford a cheap £80m loan to develop a new line of transit vans, previously assembled in the UK, in Kocaeli. We part fund the EIB, and our chancellor George Osborne sits on its board. Conservatives themselves were raising concerns about this, including the MP for Romsey and Southampton North, Caroline Nokes:

“Ford globally made $2.2bn profit last year. Why does it need cheap loans to subsidise it to export jobs from the UK to outside the EU?”

Of course Turkey has lower production costs, and its labour costs are one third of those here. But it’s one thing to say it’s cheaper to do business abroad, and quite another to expect British taxpayers to pay for it.

The problems don’t end there. Just a few days before Ford’s announcement, the British people gave some £10m to the company to help it develop a new series of diesel engines here in the UK. This money was awarded by the Regional Growth Fund (RGF), which is chaired by none other than Michael Heseltine – the man recently charged for producing a report for the government on growth. So why didn’t we make this grant contingent on Ford maintaining the rest of its operations here in the UK?

“There is no sense of engagement across the board” says Denham, who called on both the EIB and the RGF to be subject to review. Another MP added, “Ministers have shown themselves to be incapable… you can’t rebalance growth by tossing a few grants here and there.”

And a final bonus question. Given the pain, why aren’t workers going out on strike? Employees are desperately unhappy, but union members say many don’t speak out because they have been given generous pay offs, which include an extra £20,000 “bonus” for not going on strike. When it comes to a definite chance of a pay off verses a small chance of saving your job, most workers are understandably putting their families first. This is obviously less helpful for all those subcontractors on site, who aren’t receiving any redundancy package from Ford.

Ford are keen to emphasise that they are pursuing voluntary redundancies and relocating workers wherever possible. Workers in Dangenham can take some comfort that a new diesel engine is being developed there, but in general Ford say that they are suffering from over capacity.

Nobody disputes that Britain has to adapt to a changing world. But the way Ford is operating now is not good for business. The company has undermined public trust, and our current industrial strategy has let them get away with it. Ford could improve its brand by celebrating production here in Britain. European consumers would be more likely to buy from a company known for providing good jobs, worker representation and apprenticeships here in Europe. Initiatives like this wouldn’t just be good for business, it might also give those struggling workers and their families another chance.

Ford will be closing plants in Southampton and Dagenham next year. Photograph: Getty Images

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

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Women aren’t supposed to blame their foulest moods on their hormones. It’s time we did

It’s our job to play down the, “I’m pissy and want chocolate because I’m getting my period” thing as much as possible.

“NEVER CALL ME AGAIN. EVER,” I bellow at some hapless cock dribble called Brian or Craig who is sitting in a call centre somewhere. It’s too bad we haven’t been able to slam down phones since 1997. No matter how hard I jab my index finger into the red “end call” icon on my iPhone, it doesn’t have the same expulsive effect.

I’d put hard earned cash on Brian/Craig’s next thought being this:

Someone’s time of the month, eh?”

And if so, he’s bang on the money. I’m about to period so hard, the shockwaves from my convulsing uterus will be felt in France. Maybe Brian/Craig shrugs too. Right now, it kills me to think of him shrugging. I need to have ruined his day. I need for my banshee shriek to have done, at the very least, some superficial damage to his eardrum. I need to have made this guy suffer. And I need a cake. A big cake. A child’s birthday cake shaped like Postman Pat. A child’s birthday cake that I’ve stolen, thereby turning his special day into something he’ll have to discuss with a therapist in years to come. I’d punch fist-shaped craters into Pat’s smug face, then eat him in handfuls. All the while screaming unintelligible incantations at the mere concept of Brian/Craig.

Brian/Craig works for one of those companies that call you up and try to convince you you’ve been in a car accident and are owed compensation. Brian/Craig is a personification of that smell when you open a packet of ham. I’ve told Brian/Craig and his colleagues to stop calling me at least twice a week for the past six months. Unfortunately for Brian/Craig, this time he’s caught me at my premenstrual worst.

There’s an unspoken rule that women aren’t supposed to blame their foulest moods on hormones. Premenstrual hysteria (literal hysteria, because wombs) is the butt of so many sexist jokes. It’s our job to play down the, “I’m pissy and want chocolate because I’m getting my period” thing as much as possible. It’s the patriarchy that’s making us cranky. It’s the gender pay gap. It’s mannequins shaped like famine victims silently tutting at out fat arses. And we’re not “cranky” anyway – babies are cranky – we’re angry. And of course I’m angry about those things. I’m a woman, after all. But, if truth be told, I’m cranky too. And, if even more truth be told, it is because of my hormones.

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) is PMS cubed. For years now, it’s been making me want to put my fist through a wall every time my period approaches. Take the sensation of watching a particularly jumpy horror film: that humming, clenched-jaw tension, in preparation for the next scary thing to happen. Now replace fear with rage and you’ll have some idea of what PMDD feels like. Oh and throw in insatiable hunger and, for some reason, horniness. For at least a day out of every month, I feel incapable of any activity that isn’t crisp eating, rage wanking or screaming into a pillow.

And if, like me, you also suffer from anxiety and depression, trying to detect where the mental health stuff stops and the hormone stuff starts becomes utterly Sisyphean. Then again, the extent to which the hormones themselves can fuck with your mental health tends to be underestimated quite woefully. It’s just a bit of PMS, right? Have a Galaxy and a bubble bath, and get a grip. Be like one of those advert women who come home from work all stressed, then eat some really nice yoghurt and close their eyes like, “Mmmm, this yoghurt is actual sex,” and suddenly everything’s fine.

For too long, hormone-related health issues (female ones in particular) have been belittled and ignored. There’s only so much baths and chocolate can do for me when I’m premenstrual. I wasn’t kidding about the Postman Pat cake, by the way. And, Brian/Craig, in the vastly unlikely event that you’re reading this – yeah, it was my time of the month when you called. And if I could’ve telepathically smacked you over the head with a phone book, believe me, I would’ve done.

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.