Over ten per cent of Britain's possible labour is wasted

Combining underemployment and unemployment shows the output gap is much bigger than previously estimated.

Our own economics editor, David Blanchflower, has a new paper out today co-authored with David Bell of the University of Stirling, taking a deeper look at underemployment.

Increasingly, the issue is being understood as one of the major crises in the UK today. It explains how our unemployment rates have recovered far more quickly than GDP growth would lead us to expect, as well as providing a hypothesis about the UK's falling productivity levels (if full-time permanent workers have are more productive than part-time and temporary workers, then high underemployment would hinder the UK's productivity).

While it's usually better to be under-employed than unemployed (because the number of people who are actually better off on benefits is vanishingly small), it's no walk in the park. At best, underemployment results in wasted potential in the same way as unemployment, with people who could work more not having the choice. And working for one day a week is much less than a fifth as good as working for all five: you can't buy a weekly travelcard, meaning commuting costs more; you can't build up expertise or connections at work; and you spend the vast proportion of your income on essentials, leaving little left over after the bills are paid (a problem that also afflicts people in full-time employment, of course).

On top of that, as Jonathan Portes points out, underemployment is an issue which overwhelmingly affects young people (of whom 1 in 5 are already unemployed):

In 2012, 30 per cent of those aged 16 to 24 that did have jobs wished to work longer hours. This means that the labour market for the young is even more difficult than the raw unemployment rates imply. Even if there was an upturn in demand, employers would likely extend the hours of existing workers before taking the risk of hiring new young employees.

But the thing is, despite underemployment being such an important issue, we don't have any great way to measure it. The unemployment figures include statistics asking people in part-time and temporary positions whether they'd rather be in full-time permanent jobs, which is a good start, but it's an overly simplistic measure (what about part-timers who want to stay part time but have more hours?), and it fails to properly capture the interplay between un- and under-employment.

Separately, the annual Labour Force Survey asks respondents whether they are looking for more hours of work at the same pay, and how many hours they are actually working; but those measures are even harder to compare to the unemployment data, and are far too infrequent to be of much use.

That's where Blanchflower and Bell step in. By combining those two measures with the general unemployment rate, they have put together an "underemployment" index. They write:

Like the unemployment rate, it is expressed as a percentage. It can be thought of as measuring the ratio of net unemployed hours to total available hours assuming that the hours preferences of the employed at current wages are met.

If everyone who was employed was working exactly the number of hours they wanted to be, then the index would be the same as the unemployment rate. In fact, it can fall below the unemployment rate, in times when the majority of employed workers would rather reduce their hours – and that's how it was in the boom years. But once the great recession hit, the index diverged markedly:

It's an important measure, because it reflects not only the "external" labour market that most of us see – unemployed people hunting for jobs – but also the "internal" labour market: people with work, negotiating with their employers for more or less work. As a result, the authors write:

This index gives perhaps a broader estimate of the extent of underused capacity in the economy – the output gap – than a simple measure based on the unemployment rate.

The policy implications, they write, are clear. Taking a narrow view, the ONS needs to pick up the ball on this, and start publishing the data alongside the broad unemployment index. But in the broader sense:

There is very substantial spare capacity in the labour market; the implication being that if demand were higher, output could easily be higher, and it could be higher without exerting any significant upward pressure on real wages. So any further stimulus, whether fiscal or monetary, would not be inflationary. People want to work.

Looking at underemployment as well as unemployment confirms that the stagnation Britain has experienced is unlikely to be purely, or even mainly, structural. Stimulus is likely to lead to more employment, not more inflation; and so it should be done as soon as possible.

Staff in a dispatch centre package goods to ship. Shift workers are frequently underemployed. 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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Overlooking the effect of Brexit on Northern Ireland is dangerous for the whole UK

We voted to remain in the European Union. The tensions caused by the referendum outcome, and ignoring its effect on us, will cause utter carnage in Northern Ireland.

I’ve been from Northern Ireland all my life. Having spent many years living in Dublin, and now London, I’m quite used to that very fact making people uncomfortable. I get it. From a glance at the news, it would seem we fight each other about flags and anthems and are inexcusably proud of throwing glass at people in bowler hats, or daubing on our own homes the worst paintings ever committed to brickwork. Our tiny little protectorate has generated such disproportionate levels of confusing violence, most people are terrified of saying the wrong thing about any of it. We’re the celiac vegans of nationalities; the worry is that almost anything you offer will offend.

Most people avoid such worries by – whisper it – simply never acknowledging that we exist. This reflexive forgetfulness is, of course, a happy state of affairs compared to what went before. I refer, of course, to the period named, with that Ulster-tinged strain of sardonic understatement, the Troubles, when some 3,600 people were killed and ten times that injured. By some estimates, as many as 115,000 people lost a close relative to violence in this time, and many more a good friend, a colleague or an old school pal. Taken as a portion of 1.5m people, this means a startlingly high percentage of Northern Irish citizens have been directly affected by the conflict, certainly a higher percentage than that of, say, the English electorate who have ever voted for Ukip.

Northern Ireland also contains Britain’s only fully open border with the EU. I know because I grew up on it, specifically between Derry and Donegal, where my dad's back fence demarked an invisible boundary, a small hop from the UK to the Republic, and back. From a migration point of view, this poses a problem, so when Brexit was being deliberated, it did seem odd that Northern Ireland was barely mentioned at all, that the one border that exists in the entire country was given such scant reference during the campaign’s interminable duration. A dreaded EU migrant, travelling freely through Ireland toward my father’s house will not be subject to border checks once he has passed it quietly behind him. No machine guns, no "papers please", none of the fortified rigour mandated by the Leave campaign. Implementing such fortifications would, of course, be a practical nightmare, since so many live in Ireland but work in the UK, and vice versa. But the psychological effect of such a move would be infinitely worse.


Much of the Good Friday Agreement was predicated on free movement between north and south, and cross-border bodies that reinforced a soft-union of the two states; just enough to ameliorate nationalists, but nothing so resembling a united Ireland as to antagonise unionists. Making Irish-identifying Northern Irish citizens undergo any form of border checkpoint between the two countries would not just be a bureaucratic hassle, it would massively inhibit the self-determination nearly half of Northern Ireland's population takes from both countries’ status within a wider European state.

The peace that exists rests largely on this status quo, the acceptance of people who reject violent means and see little injustice in being allowed to live their lives within a British state that dignifies their close connection to their southern neighbours. It is hard to overstate how different this situation would be were armed checkpoints to re-emerge. I remember checkpoints as a child. I remember machine guns and dogs and my dad making sure we weren't nervous while he was being interrogated by armed men inspecting his driving license and checking under our car for explosives. This was every day. Rather than some novel development, this will be a direct, unbidden return to something we worked very, very hard to get away from, something we were promised was over, and something for which thousands of very stubborn, dangerous people struck what many considered a highly improbable truce.

It is this effort to which thousands of Northern Irish people now owe their lives, to which tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands more can count among the living and healthy their siblings, their friends, their colleagues. This may not be at the forefront of minds in Carlisle or Cornwall or aboard the statesmanlike grandeur of a battlebus, but it is the lived reality of Northern Irish people. To stoke up these tensions risks sleepwalking out of a peace that was hard-fought and long considered unthinkable. To do so as a side effect of what appears to be, on its face, little more than a tussle for the leadership of a single political party with little-to-no presence in Northern Ireland seems distasteful in the extreme.

Having stating these facts to friends here in London, I’ve been touched by their sorrow for our plight but, for all their sympathy, it might still not have registered that our problems have a tradition of travelling to people in London and Dublin, in Birmingham and in Monaghan. If greater care is not given to the thoughts, aspirations and fears of Northern Irish people, and those still-present agents of chaos who would seek to use such discontent to their own violent ends, we risk losing a lot more than free use of bagpipes or pleasingly bendy bananas.

Westminster must listen to those who would bear the burden of Fortress Britain’s turrets near their homes or else, to borrow a phrase, Brexit will be a threat to our national security, our economic security and your family's security.

Séamas O'Reilly is a writer and musician. He tweets @shockproofbeats. His website is shocko.info.