The government needs to stop ignoring the social disaster of women deserts

The Centre for Applied Data Torture reports.

In an as yet unreleased report – which was nonetheless the subject of a feature on Newsnight on Monday – the Centre for Social Justice draws attention to the social timebomb of men deserts in many areas in the UK. A press release (pdf) for the report states:

Around one million children grow up with no contact with their father

Many are in “men deserts” and have no male role model in sight

In a foreword to the report, titled: Fractured Families: why stability matters, from the Centre for Social Justice (CSJ), Director Christian Guy warns of the “tsunami” of family breakdown battering the country. He says the human, social and financial costs are “devastating” for children and adults alike.

CSJ have used an original approach to the analysis of small area Census data to unmask the social crisis of “men deserts”. As they say “The report features ‘league tables’ showing the parts of the country (Lower Layer Super Output Areas, which have an average population of 1,614) where fatherless and lone parent households are most prevalent. In one neighbourhood in the Riverside ward of Liverpool, there is no father present in 65 per cent of households with dependent children.”

By coincidence, my colleagues and I the Centre for Applied Data Torture (CADT) have also been working on the worrying phenomenon of gender imbalance in local populations, also using small area Census data. Our conclusions, to be published in a report which like the CSJ we are unfortunately unable to share just yet, are in some respects even grimmer than theirs.

The CSJ has drawn attention to men deserts where children may never encounter a male role model from one end of the year to the next. But has the CSJ really identified the UK’s worst men deserts? Their press release in fact makes no reference to how many men are living in these areas, just to lone parent households. We have gone one better and looked at the gender balance in neighbourhoods across England and Wales (this took us about half an hour on Nomis).

We define a men desert as a Lower Layer Super Output Areas where the percentage of men in the population aged 16-74 is less than 40 per cent (on average, the percentage is a little under 50 per cent). Like CSJ, we find that thousands of children are growing up in these men deserts. It is true that there aren’t very many of these areas: only 14 out of the 35,000 LLSOAs in England and Wales. We’ve extended the range a little to include areas where men come to 41 per cent of the population in order to get a top 20 ranking comparable to the table in the CSJ’s press release (see the full table here).

Some will say these small numbers mean there isn’t a problem here, but like the CSJ, the CADT believes it is quite inappropriate to use statistical evidence to talk down the scale of social breakdown: on the contrary, statistics are for talking up problems, whatever their true scale. However low the numbers may appear, we should be very worried about the prospects of children growing up in these manless wastelands. Fortunately as there is a total of 2,600 households with children in all of these areas, targeted intervention should not be prohibitively expensive even in these difficult times.

But the CSJ have missed a much larger scale social disaster which CADT’s research identifies. There are many more areas which are “women deserts”, where the share of women in the adult population is 40 per cent or less. There are 224 women deserts in England and Wales, with a massive 34,000 households with children struggling to survive as the normal gender balance of the population is undermined. And the women deserts are much more extreme than the men deserts: in some areas (well, three in fact) over 80 per cent of the adult population are men, and in 30 areas more than 70 per cent. Contrast the men deserts where at worst only 64 per cent of the adults are women. Moreover while men deserts are mainly an urban phenomenon the women deserts extend their reach into the heart of middle England: in parts of Huntingdonshire and Wiltshire the male share of the population is a staggering 77 per cent. While like CSJ with men deserts, we have no wish to condemn the cultures of womanlessness of these communities, it would hard to overestimate the impact on children’s development of growing up in areas where female role models are so scarce.

So the CSJ’s concern with areas where children lack male role models should be extended to the vastly greater number of areas where they lack female role models.

Enough nonsense. Something has obviously gone seriously wrong here. What we have is not a problem of women deserts or of men deserts but of the inappropriate use of small area data. Lower layer super output areas contain an average of 672 households: a handful of suburban streets, or an area of a few hundred metres radius in densely populated urban areas. When we are dealing with very small areas, we expect to get extreme values at either end of the distribution. (Consider how much more extreme the figures might get as we reduce the geographical scale to a single street, or a single household.) Just about the dumbest thing you can do with this sort of data is rank the areas and then use the top or bottom of the rankings to make some general point. Which of course is what the CSJ has done, using the top of the ranking for the share of lone parents among households with dependent children to conjure up a fantasy of men deserts.

Given that we expect to get extreme results at small area level, why do we have more women deserts than men deserts? The figures are, we should imagine, largely driven by the proximity of army barracks and men’s prisons to some residential areas. (But note that these areas have similar numbers of households with children to men deserts - our women deserts are not just barracks and prisons!) Similarly for the tiny number of men deserts, a scattering of medium rise social housing blocks would be enough to produce extreme values at this geographical level. The good news is that kids can usually escape these men and women deserts by walking a couple of hundred yards. These sort of considerations explain why competent researchers tend to avoid drawing broad conclusions from the extremes of the distribution.

What about the idea that areas where there are a lot of lone parent families have few men? It is without foundation – in those relatively rare areas (1.6 per cent of all LLSOAs) where lone parents constitute 50 per cent or more of households with children, the average share of men in the adult population is just below the national average at 48 per cent.

In short, men deserts are an artefact of ideological presuppositions, statistical incompetence and media gullibility. Anybody who bought this pup from the CSJ should be ashamed of themselves. To news editors, we have a simple message: next time you’re offered startling statistics by the CSJ or any other factoid-pedlars, get in touch with the Centre for Applied Data Torture. We guarantee to top anything they have to offer.

Pictured: A desert. Possibly a men desert. Photograph: Getty Images

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

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org