Million Jobs: The group with links to IDS's think tank which is defending workfare

Is workfare actually supported by the young or just the young Conservatives?

Million Jobs, a campaign formed to "stand up for young people without work", has got a lot of attention. Its 23-year-old founder, Lottie Dexter, has been quoted in the Sun warning about long-term unemployment, and was invited on to BBC News to defend the government's work experience program after elements of it were found to be illegal.

The stated aims of Million Jobs are admirable, with its manifesto passionately calling out the government out on the "completely unacceptable" number of jobless young people, and arguing "we need to take action to foster the future". Dexter says that:

Young people up and down the country (many of which are my peers) are totally despairing and I wanted to start a campaign that speaks up for them — and gets people to help them. I’ve already traveled the country to listen to young unemployed people from all backgrounds, and continue to work with to make sure that their experiences are fed into the national debate.

But I am concerned that the ways in which Dexter wants to help young people are more pre-determined than the people turning to her for comment may expect.

Dexter was previously the communications co-ordinator of Iain Duncan Smith's right-wing think-tank the Centre for Social Justice, a role she left to launch Million Jobs. Her salary is now paid through donations from the site, but her political past sometimes shines through.

While Million Jobs tackles many aspects of youth-focused public policy, it's taken a particular shine to defending the Government's unpaid work programmes. Dexter has written that "Back to Work schemes are not 'Slavery'", and that the workfare ruling "undermines welfare reform", as well as appearing on BBC news to defend the programmes again.

Having a voice within the Conservatives fighting for the young is valuable. The party has a worrying tendency to trade the young for the old (witness, for example, the freezing of almost all benefits except pensions), and that needs to be pushed against. It is clear Dexter cares passionately about her work. Anyone my age quitting a secure job to campaign on an issue full-time must be committed to the cause. But if Million Jobs is pushing a Tory solution to youth unemployment, that ought to be made clear from the start. Presenting the views of the right as the voice of the youth is misleading.

British musicians Miss Dynamite and Charlie from Busted join unemployed young people as they stand in line outside a job centre. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood