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Mandelson’s lizard, in bed with Michael Douglas, and sponsoring the Tube

Peter Wilby's "First Thoughts" column.

As I write, the Bilderberg Group is holding its annual conference in Watford, which must be a shock after St Moritz, Switzerland, in 2011. As always, it meets behind closed doors and everything said is strictly off the record. The 140-odd participants, drawn exclusively from North America and Europe, are mostly top politicians, bankers and business people. The only journalists are from respectable, pro-capitalist organs such as the Financial Times and the Economist.

The combination of power and secrecy makes Bilderberg everybody’s favourite conspiracy. The right accuses it of plotting world communism and the left damns it for plotting anti-democratic global capitalist domination. Browsing the list of this year’s participants (one of the few things that the group publishes about itself), I was excited to discover “Peter Mandelson . . . Chairman, Lizard International”. I then realised I had misread “Lazard”. Sorry about that, Peter.

Why do these conspirators or lizards or whatever they are bother with an annual conference? Take Lord (John) Kerr. A former British ambassador to Washington and UK permanent representative at the European Union, he was the Foreign Office permanent undersecretary from 1997 until 2002. Since then, he has held directorships at Royal Dutch Shell, Rio Tinto, the Scottish American Investment Trust and Scottish Power. The likes of him and Mandelson don’t need to meet to plot world domination with top executives at Barclays, Microsoft, Amazon, Google and HSBC. They already run the world.

Revolving door

The Bilderberg Group and the latest lobbying scandals are both symptoms of what was described in early 2010 as the “far-too-cosy relationship between politics, government, business and money”. That was David Cameron, then in opposition. If he was ever serious about reform, he isn’t now. Otherwise, his proposals for legislation, hastily drafted after the press made allegations that MPs and peers were willing to accept money from lobbying companies, wouldn’t conflate control of lobbyists with the quite different issue of union funding of Labour.

The problem goes far wider. Politicians, leading public servants and business and finance executives now have attitudes and interests in common. We are moving closer to having a constantly revolving door between government and the private sector, as the US does. The latest example is Dave Hartnett, the former head of HM Revenue & Customs, who is now a consultant for Deloitte, auditor for Vodafone, one of the companies he was criticised for allegedly letting off from paying a large chunk of its taxes.

Over the past decade, numerous other ministers and officials have taken their “expertise” to the private sector – for instance, Charles Clarke and Jacqui Smith, both former home secretaries, became consultants for KPMG. What worries me is not only that the status and contacts of ex-Whitehall figures may win favours for their new employers but also that, while supposedly working for us, ministers and civil servants have an eye on future prospects. No wonder every government finds more services to privatise in the name of efficiency and also finds itself paralysed when it comes to corporate tax avoidance.

So here is a modest proposal: if ministers or civil servants take paid jobs in the private sector after leaving office, they should forfeit their gold-plated public-sector pensions.

What’s in a name?

Conservatives in the London Assembly propose that stations and even entire lines on the London Tube should be sponsored and renamed. So we would travel on the Vodafone Central Line to Heineken Holborn, transferring to the Tesco Piccadilly Line for Knightsbridge Home of Harrods. Do not laugh. University professorships are named after sponsors – Oxford has a Rupert Murdoch Professor of Language and Communication – and a chain of schools after a carpet-seller. Why not Tube lines? Or motorways, GPs’ surgeries and police stations?

Full disclosure

I wondered how the Daily Mail would cope with the Guardian’s revelation that Michael Douglas believes he got throat cancer from cunnilingus. But it pluckily gritted its teeth and reported the story fully, while referring to “oral sex” rather than the more specific term. The episode left scars, however. “Do we really have to know about the stars’ most intimate health issues?” asked Jan Moir the next day on the Mail’s comment page. To which the answer is: no, not when they involve sexual practices unfamiliar (one trusts) to the Mail’s Middle England readers.

Follow the leader

As “a valued subscriber” to the Times, I received a message from John Witherow explaining why he has moved the leading articles from page two to 26. I suppose that, as the poor man is a mere “acting editor” (thanks to an unexpected dispute between Murdoch and the hitherto deferential “independent directors” of the Times), this is the only change he is allowed to make.

He explains that the Times is “different from Britain’s other newspapers” because it has “opinions from across the political spectrum”. Really? Its main “left-wing” columnists are my old friend David Aaronovitch, a faithful Blairite; Philip Collins, a former Blair speechwriter; and Oliver Kamm, a fanatical Blairite neocon. It depends what you mean by “the political spectrum”.

Peter Wilby was editor of the Independent on Sunday from 1995 to 1996 and of the New Statesman from 1998 to 2005. He writes the weekly First Thoughts column for the NS.

This article first appeared in the 10 June 2013 issue of the New Statesman, G0

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This Ada Lovelace Day, let’s celebrate women in tech while confronting its sexist culture

In an industry where men hold most of the jobs and write most of the code, celebrating women's contributions on one day a year isn't enough. 

Ada Lovelace wrote the world’s first computer program. In the 1840s Charles Babbage, now known as the “father of the computer”, designed (though never built) the “Analytical Engine”, a machine which could accurately and reproducibly calculate the answers to maths problems. While translating an article by an Italian mathematician about the machine, Lovelace included a written algorithm for which would allow the engine to calculate a sequence of Bernoulli numbers.

Around 170 years later, Whitney Wolfe, one of the founders of dating app Tinder, was allegedly forced to resign from the company. According to a lawsuit she later filed against the app and its parent company, she had her co-founder title removed because, the male founders argued, it would look “slutty”, and because “Facebook and Snapchat don’t have girl founders. It just makes it look like Tinder was some accident". (They settled out of court.)

Today, 13 October, is Ada Lovelace day – an international celebration of inspirational women in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). It’s lucky we have this day of remembrance, because, as Wolfe’s story demonstrates, we also spend a lot of time forgetting and sidelining women in tech. In the wash of pale male founders of the tech giants that rule the industry,we don't often think about the women that shaped its foundations: Judith Estrin, one of the designers of TCP/IP, for example, or Radia Perlman, inventor of the spanning-tree protocol. Both inventions sound complicated, and they are – they’re some of the vital building blocks that allow the internet to function. 

And yet David Streitfield, a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist, someow felt it accurate to write in 2012: “Men invented the internet. And not just any men. Men with pocket protectors. Men who idolised Mr Spock and cried when Steve Jobs died.”

Perhaps we forget about tech's founding women because the needle has swung so far into the other direction. A huge proportion – perhaps even 90 per cent - of the world’s code is written by men. At Google, women fill 17 per cent of technical roles. At Facebook, 15 per cent. Over 90 per cent of the code respositories on Github, an online service used throughout the industry, are owned by men. Yet it's also hard to believe that this erasure of women's role in tech is completely accidental. As Elissa Shevinsky writes in the introduction to a collection of essays on gender in tech, Lean Out: “This myth of the nerdy male founder has been perpetuated by men who found this story favourable."

Does it matter? It’s hard to believe that it doesn’t. Our society is increasingly defined and delineated by code and the things it builds. Small slip-ups, like the lack of a period tracker on the original Apple Watch, or fitness trackers too big for some women’s wrists, gesture to the fact that these technologies are built by male-dominated teams, for a male audience.

In Lean Out, one essay written by a Twitter-based “start-up dinosaur” (don’t ask) explains how dangerous it is to allow one small segment of society to built the future for the rest of us:

If you let someone else build tomorrow, tomorrow will belong to someone else. They will build a better tomorrow for everyone like them… For tomorrow to be for everyone, everyone needs to be the one [sic] that build it.

So where did all the women go? How did we get from a rash of female inventors to a situation where the major female presence at an Apple iPhone launch is a model’s face projected onto a screen and photoshopped into a smile by a male demonstrator? 

Photo: Apple.

The toxic culture of many tech workplaces could be a cause or an effect of the lack of women in the industry, but it certainly can’t make make it easy to stay. Behaviours range from the ignorant - Martha Lane-Fox, founder of, often asked “what happens if you get pregnant?” at investors' meetings - to the much more sinister. An essay in Lean Out by Katy Levinson details her experiences of sexual harassment while working in tech: 

I have had interviewers attempt to solicit sexual favors from me mid-interview and discuss in significant detail precisely what they would like to do. All of these things have happened either in Silicon Valley working in tech, in an educational institution to get me there, or in a technical internship.

Others featured in the book joined in with the low-level sexism and racism  of their male colleagues in order to "fit in" and deflect negative attention. Erica Joy writes that while working in IT at the University of Alaska as the only woman (and only black person) on her team, she laughed at colleagues' "terribly racist and sexist jokes" and "co-opted their negative attitudes”. 

The casual culture and allegedly meritocratic hierarchies of tech companies may actually be encouraging this discriminatory atmosphere. HR and the strict reporting procedures of large corporates at least give those suffering from discrimination a place to go. A casual office environment can discourage reporting or calling out prejudiced humour or remarks. Brook Shelley, a woman who transitioned while working in tech, notes: "No one wants to be the office mother". So instead, you join in and hope for the best. 

And, of course, there's no reason why people working in tech would have fewer issues with discrimination than those in other industries. A childhood spent as a "nerd" can also spawn its own brand of misogyny - Katherine Cross writes in Lean Out that “to many of these men [working in these fields] is all too easy to subconciously confound women who say ‘this is sexist’ with the young girls who said… ‘You’re gross and a creep and I’ll never date you'". During GamerGate, Anita Sarkeesian was often called a "prom queen" by trolls. 

When I spoke to Alexa Clay, entrepreneur and co-author of the Misfit Economy, she confirmed that there's a strange, low-lurking sexism in the start-up economy: “They have all very open and free, but underneath it there's still something really patriarchal.” Start-ups, after all, are a culture which celebrates risk-taking, something which women are societally discouraged from doing. As Clay says, 

“Men are allowed to fail in tech. You have these young guys who these old guys adopt and mentor. If his app doesn’t work, the mentor just shrugs it off. I would not be able ot get away with that, and I think women and minorities aren't allowed to take the same amount of risks, particularly in these communities. If you fail, no one's saying that's fine.

The conclusion of Lean Out, and of women in tech I have spoken to, isn’t that more women, over time, will enter these industries and seamlessly integrate – it’s that tech culture needs to change, or its lack of diversity will become even more severe. Shevinsky writes:

The reason why we don't have more women in tech is not because of a lack of STEM education. It's because too many high profile and influential individuals and subcultures within the tech industry have ignored or outright mistreated women applicants and employees. To be succinct—the problem isn't women, it's tech culture.

Software engineer Kate Heddleston has a wonderful and chilling metaphor about the way we treat women in STEM. Women are, she writes, the “canary in the coal mine”. If one dies, surely you should take that as a sign that the mine is uninhabitable – that there’s something toxic in the air. “Instead, the industry is looking at the canary, wondering why it can’t breathe, saying ‘Lean in, canary, lean in!’. When one canary dies they get a new one because getting more canaries is how you fix the lack of canaries, right? Except the problem is that there isn't enough oxygen in the coal mine, not that there are too few canaries.” We need more women in STEM, and, I’d argue, in tech in particular, but we need to make sure the air is breatheable first. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.