What's behind the 367,000 new self-employed people?

It could be an outbreak of entrepreneurism, tax avoidance, or maybe just plain old unemployment

The strength of the UK labour market has been an on-going puzzle. Despite a 4 per cent drop in GDP, employment has risen, and more people are in work than in 2008. Yet the rise hasn’t been in full-time employee jobs. Part-time work has accounted for some of the increase, but most of it has been a result of self-employment. New figures released today (6 Feb) by the ONS show self-employment has grown by 367,000 since 2008, with the trend most pronounced amongst males and older workers.

So what’s behind this trend? There are a number of possible explanations. Ministers will no doubt claim it as a resurgence of entrepreneurialism, with new companies emerging from the ashes of the old economy. Yet this is unlikely, and few of the newly self-employed will be starting the Facebooks of tomorrow: 66,000 fewer self-employed workers are actually employing staff.

A second potential culprit is the Work Programme. Long-term unemployed jobseekers may be encouraged into self-employment by providers who are incentivised to get them off Jobseekers Allowance. However, this effect is unlikely to be significant enough to explain the overall trends: ERSA estimate that only 10% of those who have found work have entered self-employment. Assuming around 300,000 job starts, only 30,000 will be self-employed (even if all survive in self-employment).

A third explanation may be more significant: firms are shifting workers onto self-employed contracts to avoid paying National Insurance, holiday pay and benefits. Yet while such contracts are increasingly used in construction, the explanation doesn’t quite fit with the characteristics of many of the newly self-employed. Research by the TUC shows that the biggest rise in self-employment has been in professional occupations.

This leaves a fourth culprit looking increasingly guilty: the weak economy is pushing workers into self-employment. The evidence fits. Underemployment amongst the self-employed has increased from 6.4 per cent in 2008 to 10.8 per cent in 2010, and is now slightly above the rate for employees. So while some will find self-employment a good way to earn a living, for others the situation is decidedly bleaker. Professionals don’t want to be unemployed, so they become “self-employed” as a way of saving face.

The rise has been most pronounced for older workers, which is perhaps not all that surprising since this is the group with the most contacts, experience and start-up costs to move into work on their own. Some will also be deferring retirement to avoid the low value of pensions. Others will find self-employment an attractive alternative to a tough formal labour market.

So why does the rise in self-employment matter? Surely self-employment is better than unemployment?

Yet self-employment can be tough – many will be building up debt as they scrape along. And later this year, Universal Credit will be introduced. It will assume that the self-employed earn a certain amount, regardless of whether this is actually the case. Those with low incomes in self-employment will find they lose benefits. For many workers now, self-employment is tough. But it is likely to get tougher in the future.

Photograph: Getty Images

Neil is the Senior Economist at The Work Foundation

 

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear