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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The government has admitted it can curb drugs without criminalising users

Under the Psychoactive Substances Act it will not be a criminal offence for someone to possess for their own consumption recreational drugs too dangerous to be legally sold to the public.

From Thursday, it may be illegal for churches to use incense. They should be safe from prosecution though, because, as the policing minister was forced to clarify, the mind-altering effects of holy smells aren’t the intended target of the Psychoactive Substances Act, which comes into force this week.

Incense-wafters aren’t the only ones wondering whether they will be criminalised by the Act. Its loose definition of psychoactive substances has been ridiculed for apparently banning, among other things, flowers, perfume and vaping.

Anyone writing about drugs can save time by creating a shortcut to insert the words “the government has ignored its advisors” and this Act was no exception. The advisory council repeatedly warned the government that its definition would both ban things that it didn’t mean to prohibit and could, at the same time, be unenforcable. You can guess how much difference these interventions made.

But, bad though the definition is – not a small problem when the entire law rests on it – the Act is actually much better than is usually admitted.

Under the law, it will not be a criminal offence for someone to possess, for their own consumption, recreational drugs that are considered too dangerous to be legally sold to the public.

That sounds like a mess, and it is. But it’s a mess that many reformers have long advocated for other drugs. Portugal decriminalised drug possession in 2001 while keeping supply illegal, and its approach is well-regarded by reformers, including the Liberal Democrats, who pledged to adopt this model in their last manifesto.

This fudge is the best option out of what was politically possible for dealing with what, until this week, were called legal highs.

Before the Act, high-street shops were free to display new drugs in their windows. With 335 head shops in the UK, the drugs were visible in everyday places – giving the impression that they couldn’t be that dangerous. As far as the data can be trusted, it’s likely that dozens of people are now dying each year after taking the drugs.

Since legal highs were being openly sold and people were thought to be dying from them, it was obvious that the government would have to act. Until it did, every death would be blamed on its inaction, even if the death rate for users of some newly banned drugs may be lower than it is for those who take part in still-legal activities like football. The only question was what the government would do.

The most exciting option would have been for it to incentivise manufacturers to come up with mind-altering drugs that are safe to take. New Zealand is allowing drug makers to run trials of psychoactive drugs, which could eventually – if proved safe enough – be sold legally. One day, this might change the world of drug-taking, but this kind of excitement was never going to appeal to Theresa May’s Home Office.

What was far more plausible was that the government would decide to treat new drugs like old ones. Just as anyone caught with cocaine or ecstasy faces a criminal record, so users of new drugs could have been hit with the same. This was how legal highs have been treated up until now when one was considered serious enough to require a ban.

But instead, the government has recognised that its aim – getting new drugs out of high-street shop windows so they don’t seem so normal – didn’t depend on criminalising users. A similar law in Ireland achieved precisely this. To its credit, the government realised it would be disproportionate to make it a criminal offence to possess the now-illegal highs.

The reality of the law will look chaotic. Users will still be able to buy new drugs online – which could open them to prosecution for import – and the law will do nothing to make drugs any safer. Some users might now be exposed to dealers who also want to sell them more dangerous other drugs. There will be few prosecutions and some head shop owners might try to pick holes in the law: the government seems to have recognised that it needed a better definition to have any chance of making the law stick.

But, most importantly for those of us who think the UK’s drug laws should be better at reducing the damage drugs cause, the government, for the first time, has decided that a class of recreational drugs are too dangerous to be sold but that it shouldn’t be a crime to possess them. The pressure on the government to act on legal highs has been relieved, without ordinary users being criminalised. For all the problems with the new law, it’s a step in the right direction.

Leo Barasi is a former Head of Communications at the UK Drug Policy Commission. He writes in a personal capacity