Think before you retweet: why the "scrounger spike" is illusory

What happened between 2004 and 2010 is more people started writing about welfare.

This chart seems to have quickly acquired mythological status on Twitter:

It appears to show the number of times the word "scrounger" appeared in the UK press from 1994 to the present, with a huge unprecedented rise coinciding with the arrival of the coalition in power.

It’s easy to see why people have seized on it, given the sustained campaign against benefit claimants in parts of the print media and the government's willingness to stoke the flames by selective, and in some cases deceptive use of official data. But the picture it gives of trends over time is almost certainly exaggerated.

The underlying data in the chart comes from a database called LexisNexis. This is an indispensable resource for looking at media coverage over extended periods, but as any researcher who has worked with it will tell you, it needs to be treated with caution, and especially when trying to construct a time series.

The main reason is that titles appear in the database at different times: if you're looking at the mid-1990's, the only titles included are the Mirror, Mail, Times, Guardian and Independent. By the time you reach 2013, the Sun and Express are included, as well as the Telegraph. That is hardly a minor difference when you're doing searches on words like "scrounger".

When Kate Bell, Ben Baumberg, Dan Sage and I looked at media coverage of benefits last year for the charity Turn2Us, we commissioned a purpose-built database to iron out data problems, as well as manually cleaning the articles we'd sourced from LexisNexis to remove irrelevant material. Analysis of media coverage over time is a demanding task. Even with a customised database, producing and coding a series from 1995 to 2011 represented several weeks work.

We didn't just look for the word "scrounger", we constructed a set of word-lists intended to capture broad categories of negative vocabulary such as fraud and dependency. "Scounger(s)" was included in a word-list we called "non-reciprocity", along with terms like "handout(s)", "shirker(s)" and "something for nothing". The chart shows some of the results for a consistent set of titles from 1995 to 2011:

So has there been an unprecedented rise in the use of "scrounger" and related terms? Yes – see the purple curve on the chart – but it's on quite a different scale to that shown in the other chart.

The difference is, I presume, mainly to do with our use of a consistent set of titles. We just don't have data for the Sun and Express for the 1990's, and these are by far the most virulent titles when it comes to coverage of benefits.

What is perhaps of more interest is that overall use of negative vocabularies is very similar in 2010-11 and 1998-9 (the dotted red curve). But there has been a pronounced shift in the language used to convey negative messages away from fraud (although this remains very important) and towards non-reciprocity: from "cheats" to "scroungers".

Using consistent data which has been checked and cleaned makes for a less striking chart, but it allows us to put recent coverage into a longer-term context. On this evidence, negativity in press coverage of benefits has not been at unprecedented levels: the first years of New Labour's period in office were very similar to the coalition's first years in this respect.

The reason is that media coverage is strongly skewed towards negativity in all periods, and in both these periods there was simply a lot of coverage.

But since 2008, negativity has increasingly taken the form of accusations of "scrounging", while in New Labour's first years in office the focus was on fraud, largely because this was a theme the government chose to highlight.

It's widely argued that there has been a shift in public attitudes towards benefit claimants over recent decades, with no signs of an increase in sympathy when unemployment rose in 2008/9, in contrast to earlier periods. And it's tempting to see negative media coverage as the culprit here. Our report did find evidence that attitudes are influenced by which newspaper people read, but when it comes to explaining shifts in attitudes over the longer term, increased negativity in the press seems an unlikely candidate, just because UK media coverage of benefits has been strongly negative for as far back as we can go using this data.

It may be that the press and the political right have become more efficient in tapping into public anxieties and grievances – maybe "scroungers" is a stronger framing than "cheats". It may be that New Labour's borrowing of political vocabulary from the right ("something for nothing", "dependency culture") recast the terms of debate, so that negative attitudes which were always to some extent in play were legitimised and made respectable.

But a simple story of media manipulation, evidenced by counting occurrences of negative language, seems to be ruled out. That doesn't mean there is no manipulation of course. There is a lot, and most of it is clearly politically inspired. But this is only part of a larger story. Those worried about public attitudes to benefits and claimants need to ask why negative coverage finds such a ready audience.

An earlier version of this piece was originally posted on Declan's blog l'Art Social, and is reposted here with his permission.

Declan Gaffney is a policy consultant specialising in social security, labour markets and equality. He blogs at l'Art Social

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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war