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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Is defeat in Stoke the beginning of the end for Paul Nuttall?

The Ukip leader was his party's unity candidate. But after his defeat in Stoke, the old divisions are beginning to show again

In a speech to Ukip’s spring conference in Bolton on February 17, the party’s once and probably future leader Nigel Farage laid down the gauntlet for his successor, Paul Nuttall. Stoke’s by-election was “fundamental” to the future of the party – and Nuttall had to win.
 
One week on, Nuttall has failed that test miserably and thrown the fundamental questions hanging over Ukip’s future into harsh relief. 

For all his bullish talk of supplanting Labour in its industrial heartlands, the Ukip leader only managed to increase the party’s vote share by 2.2 percentage points on 2015. This paltry increase came despite Stoke’s 70 per cent Brexit majority, and a media narrative that was, until the revelations around Nuttall and Hillsborough, talking the party’s chances up.
 
So what now for Nuttall? There is, for the time being, little chance of him resigning – and, in truth, few inside Ukip expected him to win. Nuttall was relying on two well-rehearsed lines as get-out-of-jail free cards very early on in the campaign. 

The first was that the seat was a lowly 72 on Ukip’s target list. The second was that he had been leader of party whose image had been tarnished by infighting both figurative and literal for all of 12 weeks – the real work of his project had yet to begin. 

The chances of that project ever succeeding were modest at the very best. After yesterday’s defeat, it looks even more unlikely. Nuttall had originally stated his intention to run in the likely by-election in Leigh, Greater Manchester, when Andy Burnham wins the Greater Manchester metro mayoralty as is expected in May (Wigan, the borough of which Leigh is part, voted 64 per cent for Brexit).

If he goes ahead and stands – which he may well do – he will have to overturn a Labour majority of over 14,000. That, even before the unedifying row over the veracity of his Hillsborough recollections, was always going to be a big challenge. If he goes for it and loses, his leadership – predicated as it is on his supposed ability to win votes in the north - will be dead in the water. 

Nuttall is not entirely to blame, but he is a big part of Ukip’s problem. I visited Stoke the day before The Guardian published its initial report on Nuttall’s Hillsborough claims, and even then Nuttall’s campaign manager admitted that he was unlikely to convince the “hard core” of Conservative voters to back him. 

There are manifold reasons for this, but chief among them is that Nuttall, despite his newfound love of tweed, is no Nigel Farage. Not only does he lack his name recognition and box office appeal, but the sad truth is that the Tory voters Ukip need to attract are much less likely to vote for a party led by a Scouser whose platform consists of reassuring working-class voters their NHS and benefits are safe.
 
It is Farage and his allies – most notably the party’s main donor Arron Banks – who hold the most power over Nuttall’s future. Banks, who Nuttall publicly disowned as a non-member after he said he was “sick to death” of people “milking” the Hillsborough disaster, said on the eve of the Stoke poll that Ukip had to “remain radical” if it wanted to keep receiving his money. Farage himself has said the party’s campaign ought to have been “clearer” on immigration. 

Senior party figures are already briefing against Nuttall and his team in the Telegraph, whose proprietors are chummy with the beer-swilling Farage-Banks axis. They deride him for his efforts to turn Ukip into “NiceKip” or “Nukip” in order to appeal to more women voters, and for the heavy-handedness of his pitch to Labour voters (“There were times when I wondered whether I’ve got a purple rosette or a red one on”, one told the paper). 

It is Nuttall’s policy advisers - the anti-Farage awkward squad of Suzanne Evans, MEP Patrick O’Flynn (who famously branded Farage "snarling, thin-skinned and aggressive") and former leadership candidate Lisa Duffy – come in for the harshest criticism. Herein lies the leader's almost impossible task. Despite having pitched to members as a unity candidate, the two sides’ visions for Ukip are irreconcilable – one urges him to emulate Trump (who Nuttall says he would not have voted for), and the other urges a more moderate tack. 

Endorsing his leader on Question Time last night, Ukip’s sole MP Douglas Carswell blamed the legacy of the party’s Tea Party-inspired 2015 general election campaign, which saw Farage complain about foreigners with HIV using the NHS in ITV’s leaders debate, for the party’s poor performance in Stoke. Others, such as MEP Bill Etheridge, say precisely the opposite – that Nuttall must be more like Farage. 

Neither side has yet called for Nuttall’s head. He insists he is “not going anywhere”. With his febrile party no stranger to abortive coup and counter-coup, he is unlikely to be the one who has the final say.