Louise Brealey in Clique. BBC
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BBC Three’s Clique hides a brutal takedown of fake feminism inside a sly thriller

The online drama, about a competitive intership for women, suggests there is dark side to “leaning in” - and shrugging off workplace sexism. Spoilers ahead!

In the last year, Clique is not the only BBC Three show which contains a feminist lecture in its opening episode. But unlike in Fleabag, it’s not a laughing matter.

Clique is set at Edinburgh University, where a professor called Jude McDermid (Louise Brealey) runs the Introduction to Macro-Economics course. (“It is as good as they say.”) Her students, including best friends Holly (Synnove Karlsen) and Georgia (Aisling Franciosi), are nervous and excited to hear her first lecture. She begins it unconventionally: with a rant on the problems of modern feminism.

“Women are 51% of the population in this country,” she says. “Bitches got the majority. Say hello to that majority – and then wave it goodbye, because it’s the only one you’ve got. Women are 29% of MPs. You are 22% of university professors. You are 10% of FTSE 100 Directors. We’re not there. So, what’s the problem? Our mums and grannies fixed all this, didn’t they?”

Sexism? Is that the problem?

“No,” McDermid insists. “Sexism is a problem in the developing world. The problem here, ladies, is you. You are the ones moaning on Tumblr. You are the ones who’ve made yourselves a victim in every office. You are the ones banging on about the pay gap, when you should be getting on with your career. You are the problem.”

“Feminism in this country has been infected with misinformation and an obsession with being offended. I am here to help you reclaim it. I am not here to help you joyride because you happen to possess a vagina.”

“If you’re not the best, then don’t waste my time. I don’t like you.”

We learn that Professor McDermid founded The Solasta Women’s Initiative with her brother Alistair McDermid (Emun Elliott), the CEO of a vague company called Solasta Finance. The initiative offers extremely competitive internships at Solasta. The internships are clouded in mystery – the gorgeous, sophisticated students who have bagged them work in departments like “Client Account Management”, and attend constant, glamorous parties, but insist they only do “coffees and photocopying”.

Holly and Georgia are seduced. Even after one intern, Fay, kills herself - seemingly as a direct response to the extreme pressure of the job - they want in.

The more gregarious Georgia is the one to make it in to the "clique" first – serious and academic Holly becomes increasingly worried, and follows her and the other interns to various drug-fuelled parties. Their friendship splinters, taking on on a competitive, claustrophobic edge. “It’s natural that you’d feel a little thrown, a little jealous,” says McDermid, maternally, to Holly.

When Holly implies that this was never a problem before, McDermid asks, “What changed?”

“We met you.”

An almost imperceptible smile passes McDermid’s lips.

The professor seems genuinely pleased to see ambition pass from woman to woman, even if it complicates friendships. She is less interested in fostering support networks between women than she is in empowering them to be selfish – to do things because they want to. She rejects the idea that Holly is simply concerned for Georgia. “It’s because you’re ambitious,” she says. “This isn’t about your friend any more, do you get that?”

Holly concedes. “I want in.”

“So you’re in.”

Holly begins to acknowledge that it is, indeed, her personal ambition that drives her to join the clique. “I want to do something for myself. I need to,” she mutters to herself, echoing Professor McDermid’s encouragement, “Try and engage with what you’re feeling, with what you want.”

Professor McDermid represents a corporate, individualistic feminism, concerned by the lack of female board members and millionaires, which has a similarity to the popular interpretation of Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In – albeit in more blunt language. Sandberg’s book includes sections called “What Would You Do If You Weren’t Afraid?”, “Sit at the Table” and “Seek and Speak Your Truth”, and contains advice including “You have to take opportunities and make an opportunity fit for you, rather than the other way around” and “Fortune does favor the bold.” These are essentially the messages McDermid tries to communicate to her students in Clique – push yourself forward, become exceptional. Don’t complain about a lack of opportunities, make them.

There is, of course, nothing inherently wrong with these ideas. In an environment where women are encouraged to take a step back from their careers, to constantly sacrifice their desires for others, it can be extremely beneficial to reframe ambition as positive. But there are problems. Take this Norwegian example, which revealed that eight years after Norway introduced the law on gender equality in boardrooms, there are zero female CEOs in the country’s 60 largest companies.

It can run the risk of creating a culture where the exceptions are used to disprove the rule. One or two successful businesswomen can be pointed at to suggest that there is no gender problem, to downplay the effects of toxic work environments, pay gaps or lack of female staff, and to reduce concerns about those problems to “an obsession with being offended”. This is exactly the kind of environment that McDermid intentionally encourages.

In one scene in episode three, Holly and the other interns, Phoebe, Louise and Rachel, are having dinner with Professor McDermid. Georgia is out – at “boy’s night”. The rest of the girls were pointedly not invited. “Why not?” asks McDermid.

“They think we’re going to report them to HR for making a misogynist joke,” says Rachel.


“What? They’re scared of us?” asks Holly.

“Absolutely. They’re scared they’ll get holed up for sexual harassment, or gender slurs, or mansplaining or whatever great injustice the internet mafia has gone mad about this week.”

“Those are real things, though.”

“Yes, they are. But I think we’re teaching women to expect them at every turn. Class every man as a misogynist and you just end up creating more actual misogynists.”

McDermid’s argument is that women should let slights go in order to be included in male-dominated work environments. “How do you expect to be in the thick of things professionally if you’re not there for the conversations? Talk to them. Don’t treat them like predators.” She even suggests that having sex with the odd male colleague wouldn’t be a bad move: “Two consenting adults who are working and sleeping together can sometimes be a productive combination.” To those who disagree, she simply responds, “Apologies for not being constantly offended enough for today’s feminist argument.”

However, don't assume from these extracts that Clique is a slow, talky, discursive show. It's mostly a sly thriller with little time for in-depth debates about discourse. It smothers its political message in suspense.

Cracks soon begin to appear in the group. After Fay commits suicide, Georgia begins having panic attacks. Holly and Georgia’s relationship gets even worse, and the other interns become increasingly divided. One in particular becomes the glue holding everyone together: the glamorous, efficient Rachel (Rachel Hurd-Wood), personal assistant to CEO Alistair, who always knows exactly what to stay to stop each intern from leaving the clique.

As the series progresses, McDermid is faced with a rude awakening. For all her insistence that these five exceptional women are protected from sexist work environments by their own tenacity, she is suddenly faced with irrefutable evidence that her own brother, Alistair, has been using the interns to execute illegal business deals. A short while later, she realises he’s told them to sleep with clients.

McDermid is horrified to realise her own role in the company’s dark side. “It’s like you said,” Georgia tells her. “Once you get over yourself, it doesn’t need to be a huge deal.”

“What I said?”

“What you taught me. Use what you’ve got. Like the men do.”

McDermid later realises it gets much worse. Her brother has systematically raping interns Fay and Georgia, and allowing clients to do the same. She has to face her own complicity in her brother’s actions. “You’re a fucking rapist. What is wrong with you?” she shouts at him. The extent of his misogyny is revealed when he spits back, “You bred this little tribe of nasty, jumped-up, backstabbing little bitches. I can’t be responsible for every mad impulse an unstable woman has.” She asks him to leave. “It was you too, Jude,” he insists. “You helped me build this.”

To McDermid’s horror, many of the interns rally around Alistair. Rachel continues to spend every second by his side, and Georgia even appears on BBC News to label the accusations ridiculous. “He helps women achieve,” she says, and adds, in a dark echo of McDermid’s comments about a culture of hypervigilance, “I think it’s a shame that that immediately brings distrust and judgement down on you.”

McDermid comes to the house one more time. “We used to talk, you and me. You used to tell me things,” she says to Rachel. “Suddenly you’re just talking to my brother.”

“You mean doing the job you set me up for?” Rachel responds, her face suggesting she had far more to do with Alistair’s violence than McDermid suspects. “Everyone had their game to play. You couldn’t keep up, and now, things are happening without you.”

“I don’t know you at all, do I?” McDermid says with a dull futility.

McDermid is fired from her teaching post at the university, but not before trying her best to defend herself. “I was fighting for those girls to realise their full potential,” she tells her boss.

“You were teaching those girls something some of them were not equipped to understand,” she counters.

“I was teaching them to be pragmatic!”

“And it backfired.”

Clique’s finale has improbable twists and turns that make prevent it from becoming any kind of  morality tale – knife-wielding, blood-thirsty Rachel is revealed to be a friend from Holly’s childhood, desperate to recreate the high she felt when the two of them accidentally sent a young child over a towering cliff to her death. But despite this oversaturated image of a violent power-hungry woman, Clique doesn’t suggest that ambition is evil, or that women in positions of corporate power are inherently anti-feminist: it ends with a house of pyjama-clad girls discussing the exciting opportunities they have lined up for the future.

But it does suggest that putting the onus onto the individual effort of exceptional women, and spotlighting their achievements and potential, can allow systemic sexism to continue unnoticed, or even enable sinister workplace environments. Turns out cliques aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Anna Leszkiewicz is a pop culture writer at the New Statesman.

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We're racing towards another private debt crisis - so why did no one see it coming?

The Office for Budget Responsibility failed to foresee the rise in household debt. 

This is a call for a public inquiry on the current situation regarding private debt.

For almost a decade now, since 2007, we have been living a lie. And that lie is preparing to wreak havoc on our economy. If we do not create some kind of impartial forum to discuss what is actually happening, the results might well prove disastrous. 

The lie I am referring to is the idea that the financial crisis of 2008, and subsequent “Great Recession,” were caused by profligate government spending and subsequent public debt. The exact opposite is in fact the case. The crash happened because of dangerously high levels of private debt (a mortgage crisis specifically). And - this is the part we are not supposed to talk about—there is an inverse relation between public and private debt levels.

If the public sector reduces its debt, overall private sector debt goes up. That's what happened in the years leading up to 2008. Now austerity is making it happening again. And if we don't do something about it, the results will, inevitably, be another catastrophe.

The winners and losers of debt

These graphs show the relationship between public and private debt. They are both forecasts from the Office for Budget Responsibility, produced in 2015 and 2017. 

This is what the OBR was projecting what would happen around now back in 2015:

This year the OBR completely changed its forecast. This is how it now projects things are likely to turn out:

First, notice how both diagrams are symmetrical. What happens on top (that part of the economy that is in surplus) precisely mirrors what happens in the bottom (that part of the economy that is in deficit). This is called an “accounting identity.”

As in any ledger sheet, credits and debits have to match. The easiest way to understand this is to imagine there are just two actors, government, and the private sector. If the government borrows £100, and spends it, then the government has a debt of £100. But by spending, it has injected £100 more pounds into the private economy. In other words, -£100 for the government, +£100 for everyone else in the diagram. 

Similarly, if the government taxes someone for £100 , then the government is £100 richer but there’s £100 subtracted from the private economy (+£100 for government, -£100 for everybody else on the diagram).

So what implications does this kind of bookkeeping have for the overall economy? It means that if the government goes into surplus, then everyone else has to go into debt.

We tend to think of money as if it is a bunch of poker chips already lying around, but that’s not how it really works. Money has to be created. And money is created when banks make loans. Either the government borrows money and injects it into the economy, or private citizens borrow money from banks. Those banks don’t take the money from people’s savings or anywhere else, they just make it up. Anyone can write an IOU. But only banks are allowed to issue IOUs that the government will accept in payment for taxes. (In other words, there actually is a magic money tree. But only banks are allowed to use it.)

There are other factors. The UK has a huge trade deficit (blue), and that means the government (yellow) also has to run a deficit (print money, or more accurately, get banks to do it) to inject into the economy to pay for all those Chinese trainers, American iPads, and German cars. The total amount of money can also fluctuate. But the real point here is, the less the government is in debt, the more everyone else must be. Austerity measures will necessarily lead to rising levels of private debt. And this is exactly what has happened.

Now, if this seems to have very little to do with the way politicians talk about such matters, there's a simple reason: most politicians don’t actually know any of this. A recent survey showed 90 per cent of MPs don't even understand where money comes from (they think it's issued by the Royal Mint). In reality, debt is money. If no one owed anyone anything at all there would be no money and the economy would grind to a halt.

But of course debt has to be owed to someone. These charts show who owes what to whom.

The crisis in private debt

Bearing all this in mind, let's look at those diagrams again - keeping our eye particularly on the dark blue that represents household debt. In the first, 2015 version, the OBR duly noted that there was a substantial build-up of household debt in the years leading up to the crash of 2008. This is significant because it was the first time in British history that total household debts were higher than total household savings, and therefore the household sector itself was in deficit territory. (Corporations, at the same time, were raking in enormous profits.) But it also predicted this wouldn't happen again.

True, the OBR observed, austerity and the reduction of government deficits meant private debt levels would have to go up. However, the OBR economists insisted this wouldn't be a problem because the burden would fall not on households but on corporations. Business-friendly Tory policies would, they insisted, inspire a boom in corporate expansion, which would mean frenzied corporate borrowing (that huge red bulge below the line in the first diagram, which was supposed to eventually replace government deficits entirely). Ordinary households would have little or nothing to worry about.

This was total fantasy. No such frenzied boom took place.

In the second diagram, two years later, the OBR is forced to acknowledge this. Corporations are just raking in the profits and sitting on them. The household sector, on the other hand, is a rolling catastrophe. Austerity has meant falling wages, less government spending on social services (or anything else), and higher de facto taxes. This puts the squeeze on household budgets and people are forced to borrow. As a result, not only are households in overall deficit for the second time in British history, the situation is actually worse than it was in the years leading up to 2008.

And remember: it was a mortgage crisis that set off the 2008 crash, which almost destroyed the world economy and plunged millions into penury. Not a crisis in public debt. A crisis in private debt.

An inquiry

In 2015, around the time the original OBR predictions came out, I wrote an essay in the Guardian predicting that austerity and budget-balancing would create a disastrous crisis in private debt. Now it's so clearly, unmistakably, happening that even the OBR cannot deny it.

I believe the time has come for there be a public investigation - a formal public inquiry, in fact - into how this could be allowed to happen. After the 2008 crash, at least the economists in Treasury and the Bank of England could plausibly claim they hadn't completely understood the relation between private debt and financial instability. Now they simply have no excuse.

What on earth is an institution called the “Office for Budget Responsibility” credulously imagining corporate borrowing binges in order to suggest the government will balance the budget to no ill effects? How responsible is that? Even the second chart is extremely odd. Up to 2017, the top and bottom of the diagram are exact mirrors of one another, as they ought to be. However, in the projected future after 2017, the section below the line is much smaller than the section above, apparently seriously understating the amount both of future government, and future private, debt. In other words, the numbers don't add up.

The OBR told the New Statesman ​that it was not aware of any errors in its 2015 forecast for corporate sector net lending, and that the forecast was based on the available data. It said the forecast for business investment has been revised down because of the uncertainty created by Brexit. 

Still, if the “Office of Budget Responsibility” was true to its name, it should be sounding off the alarm bells right about now. So far all we've got is one mention of private debt and a mild warning about the rise of personal debt from the Bank of England, which did not however connect the problem to austerity, and one fairly strong statement from a maverick columnist in the Daily Mail. Otherwise, silence. 

The only plausible explanation is that institutions like the Treasury, OBR, and to a degree as well the Bank of England can't, by definition, warn against the dangers of austerity, however alarming the situation, because they have been set up the way they have in order to justify austerity. It's important to emphasise that most professional economists have never supported Conservative policies in this regard. The policy was adopted because it was convenient to politicians; institutions were set up in order to support it; economists were hired in order to come up with arguments for austerity, rather than to judge whether it would be a good idea. At present, this situation has led us to the brink of disaster.

The last time there was a financial crash, the Queen famously asked: why was no one able to foresee this? We now have the tools. Perhaps the most important task for a public inquiry will be to finally ask: what is the real purpose of the institutions that are supposed to foresee such matters, to what degree have they been politicised, and what would it take to turn them back into institutions that can at least inform us if we're staring into the lights of an oncoming train?