Jobless in Europe: The wretches of Spain

What kind of a social model is it that leaves half of young people out of work? George Eaton profiles Spain's employment woes.

What kind of social model is it that leaves more than half of young people out of work? In two European Union countries, Greece and Spain, this grim threshold has now been passed. Of the pair, it is the latter that is most striking. In the EU’s fifthlargest economy, youth unemployment stands at 56.1 per cent, a level that would once have been considered unthinkable by those who lived through the post-Franco Spanish “economic miracle”.

The chronic joblessness is largely attributable to the 2008 crash and the austerity subsequently imposed at the behest of Berlin. In the boom years the Spanish economy became dangerously reliant on construction, which at its peak accounted for 16 per cent of GDP and 12 per cent of employment. When the property bubble burst, after house prices had risen by more than 100 per cent in ten years, unemployment immediately surged.

The €27bn of spending cuts and tax rises introduced by the Rajoy government have made a bad situation worse, with the economy falling into a double-dip recession. Keynes’s advice to “take care of unemployment” and let the budget deficit “take care of itself” has been ignored by the austerians of Brussels.

Yet this alone cannot explain Spain’s exceptional youth joblessness, which stood at 18.2 per cent even before the crash. The root of the problem lies in the country’s two-tier labour market, which gives permanent workers huge advantage over their temporary counterparts. Unable to adjust the pay and conditions of long-standing employees established through collective bargaining agreements, companies took to laying off the third of workers on short-term contracts. A report last year by the Bank of Spain’s Centre of Monetary and Financial Studies found that 90 per cent of those who had lost their job since 2007 were in temporary employment. The apparent ease with which short-term work could be found before the crisis, most notably in the property sector, also encouraged the young to drop out of school as early as possible. As a result, 30 per cent of young Spaniards have no qualifications, leaving them unable to compete for high-skilled jobs. The problem is compounded by a welfare system that removes all support from claimants once they find work, however low-paid, prompting some to conclude they are better off remaining on benefits and working in the black economy.

The labour-market reforms introduced by the government, including allowing struggling companies to opt out of collective bargaining agreements and a reduction in the highest level of severance pay (aimed at encouraging firms to take a chance on new workers), may improve the situation at the margins but many are not waiting to find out. More than 280,000 young people left Spain last year in search of work, with Germany, the UK, Argentina and Venezuela the most popular destinations. Thousands of young scientists and academics have departed after a 40 per cent cut in state spending on research and development. It leaves Spain ill-equipped for when recovery comes.

In the meantime, those unwilling or unable to emigrate are left with the melancholy reflection that they are just halfway through what is almost certain to be a lost decade.

An employed mother of four in unfurnished social housing in Bollullos del Condado, Spain. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 19 August 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Why aren’t young people working

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The deafening killer - why noise will be the next great pollution scandal

A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. 

Our cities are being poisoned by a toxin that surrounds us day and night. It eats away at our brains, hurts our hearts, clutches at our sleep, and gnaws at the quality of our daily lives.

Hardly a silent killer, it gets short shrift compared to the well-publicised terrors of air pollution and sugars food. It is the dull, thumping, stultifying drum-beat of perpetual noise.

The score that accompanies city life is brutal and constant. It disrupts the everyday: The coffee break ruined by the screech of a line of double decker buses braking at the lights. The lawyer’s conference call broken by drilling as she makes her way to the office. The writer’s struggle to find a quiet corner to pen his latest article.

For city-dwellers, it’s all-consuming and impossible to avoid. Construction, traffic, the whirring of machinery, the neighbour’s stereo. Even at home, the beeps and buzzes made by washing machines, fridges, and phones all serve to distract and unsettle.

But the never-ending noisiness of city life is far more than a problem of aesthetics. A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. Recent studies have linked noise pollution to hearing loss, sleep deprivation, hypertension, heart disease, brain development, and even increased risk of dementia.

One research team compared families living on different stories of the same building in Manhattan to isolate the impact of noise on health and education. They found children in lower, noisier floors were worse at reading than their higher-up peers, an effect that was most pronounced for children who had lived in the building for longest.

Those studies have been replicated for the impact of aircraft noise with similar results. Not only does noise cause higher blood pressure and worsens quality of sleep, it also stymies pupils trying to concentrate in class.

As with many forms of pollution, the poorest are typically the hardest hit. The worst-off in any city often live by busy roads in poorly-insulated houses or flats, cheek by jowl with packed-in neighbours.

The US Department of Transport recently mapped road and aircraft noise across the United States. Predictably, the loudest areas overlapped with some of the country’s most deprived. Those included the south side of Atlanta and the lowest-income areas of LA and Seattle.

Yet as noise pollution grows in line with road and air traffic and rising urban density, public policy has turned a blind eye.

Council noise response services, formally a 24-hour defence against neighbourly disputes, have fallen victim to local government cuts. Decisions on airport expansion and road development pay scant regard to their audible impact. Political platforms remain silent on the loudest poison.

This is odd at a time when we have never had more tools at our disposal to deal with the issue. Electric Vehicles are practically noise-less, yet noise rarely features in the arguments for their adoption. Just replacing today’s bus fleet would transform city centres; doing the same for taxis and trucks would amount to a revolution.

Vehicles are just the start. Millions were spent on a programme of “Warm Homes”; what about “Quiet Homes”? How did we value the noise impact in the decision to build a third runway at Heathrow, and how do we compensate people now that it’s going ahead?

Construction is a major driver of decibels. Should builders compensate “noise victims” for over-drilling? Or could regulation push equipment manufacturers to find new ways to dampen the sound of their kit?

Of course, none of this addresses the noise pollution we impose on ourselves. The bars and clubs we choose to visit or the music we stick in our ears. Whether pumping dance tracks in spin classes or indie rock in trendy coffee shops, people’s desire to compensate for bad noise out there by playing louder noise in here is hard to control for.

The Clean Air Act of 1956 heralded a new era of city life, one where smog and grime gave way to clear skies and clearer lungs. That fight still goes on today.

But some day, we will turn our attention to our clogged-up airwaves. The decibels will fall. #Twitter will give way to twitter. And every now and again, as we step from our homes into city life, we may just hear the sweetest sound of all. Silence.

Adam Swersky is a councillor in Harrow and is cabinet member for finance. He writes in a personal capacity.