Labour and the sick note

Peter Hain on the Tories' plan to force the unemployed into work will fail. Plus the

In opposition, the Tories show they know little about dealing with the problems of poverty and worklessness that they helped create when in power. Their response to Labour's radical new approach to welfare, with its emphasis on creating skills, has been to become cheerleaders for the reactionary, discredited Wisconsin model of welfare reform, with its emphasis on unemployment and forcing all who can work into jobs.

As Gordon Brown signalled in a major speech on 26 November, employability rather than unemployment is the new challenge.

Over the past decade, huge progress has been made in reversing the Conservative legacy of entrenched unemployment, child poverty and benefit dependency, which tripled the numbers moving to Incapacity Benefit and cemented the "sick note" in the foundations of the economy.

Yet, behind the headlines of Iain Duncan Smith's much-quoted "compassion" for the poor, the Tories still believe poverty and disadvantage are self-inflicted and that the way to get the most vulnerable across the high wire from benefits to work is to remove the safety net. That is why they have latched on to the sink-or-swim philosophy inherent in Wisconsin.

From the late 1980s onwards, as governor of Wisconsin, Tommy Thompson (a Republican, and until recently a presidential hopeful) introduced a system of state-funded welfare. Over time, this meant abolishing "cash assistance" for anyone without children; lone mums with children as young as 13 weeks were forced into work; a cap was put on the benefits caseload regardless of demand; there were time limits on entitlement; and the whole system, including determining welfare eligibility, was privatised.

The result was that between 1994 and 2004, both absolute and relative child poverty increased, with disproportionate impact on black and Hispanic communities. Thousands of families with no work and no welfare were left to rely on charity. Benefit entitlement and distribution had to be taken back under state control when major contractors became plagued by fraud.

It is not surprising that the Tories would ignore the social impacts of such a policy. But behind the claims that Wisconsin reduced unemployment benefit claims to the state by 80 per cent is the fact that the private contractors used were incentivised to redirect people on to federally funded sickness benefits, which increased by roughly 40 per cent during the same period.

The actual reduction in benefit claimants was 15 per cent, a lower reduction than we have achieved in the UK in the past ten years. We have also proved that you can significantly decrease the numbers of families on benefits and still cut both absolute and relative child poverty. Indeed, that has been our motivation.

Although we have got 2.8 million more people into jobs and taken a million off benefits since 1997, there are still far too many on welfare. This is not good for them - people stuck on benefits suffer very high levels of illness and de pression, and their children underachieve. And it is certainly not good for the economy.

Our approach is driven by progressive values of full employment, opportunity for all and social justice. The old definition of full employment was measured in terms of low unemployment, which William Beveridge defined as a claimant count rate of 3 per cent or less. We have hit that every month since 2002. Our new approach defines it in terms of high employment; we aim for 80 per cent from the current 74 per cent.

To achieve that, we need to do still more to help those with disabilities, single parents and the long-term unemployed into sustainable and rewarding jobs: British benefit claimants becoming British workers in British jobs.

It means calling time on our "sick note" culture. Incapacity Benefit still accounts for more than half of the 4.5 million people of working age in Britain on an "out of work" benefit. In the past, they were in effect written off, more likely to die or retire than work again. Yet, with the right help, the majority could work, and the jobs are certainly out there for them among the 660,000 vacancies.

From next year I will replace Incapacity Benefit with a new Employment and Support Allowance. It will include a more rigorous medical assessment and place the emphasis on work, identifying what someone can do, not what they cannot. Roughly half of those who take the assessment are likely to be deemed able to work. We will require people to discuss with a personal adviser what they can do to increase their chances of getting a job when the time is right.

Rightward drift

It won't be easy: the longer people have been out of work, the more expensive, intensive and specialist is the help they need to get back into work and to make sure they can stay there. This requires considerable investment upfront and savings don't come back for some years.

Which is why David Cameron's October announcement that, at a stroke, £3bn can be found to fund tax cuts is fantasy. This is another black hole in Conservative spending plans. Pinning their colours to the mast of Wisconsin leaves the Tories' welfare policy in disarray, more slick spin than substance, and underlines their rightward drift on social policy.

Meanwhile, we have signed up more than 200 firms and organisations to our Local Employment Partnerships to help recruit the long-term disadvantaged jobless - youngsters, over-fifties, the disabled and lone parents. We will ensure they get the right training to be "job-ready". In return, employers will give them a fair shot at the job through a guaranteed interview or a work-trial.

There will be disabled people and lone parents for whom work is not an option, and I will ensure that they will be protected. But most lone parents want to work, not least because while on benefit their children are five times more likely to be in poverty, with a hugely increased risk of physical and mental illness.

Comprehensive and affordable childcare will be vital (increasingly there is provision in schools from breakfast to 6pm). We are encouraging employers to be more flexible and help employees balance work and family responsibilities. More than 80 per cent already do something towards this and our commitment to extend the right to request flexible working will boost this percentage further. We have also announced skills support for people on benefit, as there is evidence that welfare claimants frequently lack the skills to fill the jobs available.

There is a consistent vision of welfare running from Beveridge through Attlee to Gordon Brown: that a fair, prosperous and, above all, cohesive society can only be built on a system of social justice in which everyone who can work is expected to contribute to, and share in, national prosperity, while those who can't are protected.

There were times in the past century when these principles were neglected, with oppor tunities to work in effect denied to millions. Unconditional handouts, which made for a life of stunted ambition and thwarted opportunity, were a reality for too many. Neither should be acceptable to progressives in our pursuit of full employment and abolishing child poverty in our generation.

A new, progressive vision for our welfare system must be firm, fair and effective. The prescription from the right will once again be reactionary, stigmatising and self-defeating.

The dividing line between Labour and the Conservatives could not be starker.

Peter Hain is Secretary of State for Work and Pensions and for Wales

Peter Hain is a former Labour cabinet minister and was MP for Neath between 1991 and 2015 before joining the House of Lords.

This article first appeared in the 03 December 2007 issue of the New Statesman, Russia’s fragile future

MARTIN O’NEILL
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The new young fogeys

Today’s teens and twentysomethings seem reluctant to get drunk, smoke cigarettes or have sex. Is abstinence the new form of youth rebellion?

In a University College London lecture theatre, all eyes are on an elaborate Dutch apple cake. Those at the back have stood up to get a better look. This, a chorus of oohs and aahs informs me, is a baked good at its most thrilling.

In case you were wondering, UCL hasn’t rented out a room to the Women’s Institute. All thirty or so cake enthusiasts here are undergraduates, aged between 18 and 21. At the third meeting this academic year of UCL’s baking society, the focus has shifted to a Tupperware container full of peanut butter cookies. One by one, the students are delivering a brief spiel about what they have baked and why.

Sarah, a 19-year-old human sciences undergraduate, and Georgina, aged 20, who is studying maths and physics, help run the baking society. They tell me that the group, which was set up in 2012, is more popular than ever. At the most recent freshers’ fair, more than 750 students signed up. To put the number in perspective: that is roughly 15 per cent of the entire first-year population. The society’s events range from Great British Bake Off-inspired challenges to “bring your own cake” gatherings, such as today’s. A “cake crawl”, I am told, is in the pipeline. You know, like a pub crawl . . . but with cake? Georgina says that this is the first year the students’ union has advertised specifically non-drinking events.

From the cupcake boom to the chart-topping eminence of the bow-tie-wearing, banjo-plucking bores Mumford & Sons, the past decade of youth culture has been permeated by wholesomeness. According to the Office for National Statistics (ONS), this movement is more than just aesthetic. Not only are teenage pregnancies at their lowest level since records began in the 1960s, but drug-taking, binge drinking and sexually transmitted infections among young people have also taken significant dives. Drug use among the under-25s has fallen by a quarter over the past ten years and heavy drinking – measured by how much a person drinks in an average week – is down by 15 per cent. Cigarettes are also losing their appeal, with under-25 smokers down by 10 per cent since 2001. Idealistic baby boomers had weed and acid. Disaffected and hedonistic Generation X-ers had Ecstasy and cocaine. Today’s youth (which straddles Generations Y and Z) have cake. So, what shaped this demographic that, fairly or otherwise, could be called “Generation Zzzz”?

“We’re a lot more cynical than other generations,” says Lucy, a 21-year-old pharmacy student who bakes a mean Welsh cake. “We were told that if we went to a good uni and got a good job, we’d be fine. But now we’re all so scared we’re going to be worse off than our parents that we’re thinking, ‘Is that how we should be spending our time?’”

“That” is binge drinking. Fittingly, Lucy’s dad – she tells me – was an anarchist with a Mohawk who, back home in the Welsh valleys, was known to the police. She talks with deserved pride about how he joined the Conservative Party just to make trouble and sip champagne courtesy of his enemies. Lucy, though decidedly Mohawk-free, is just as politically aware as her father. She is concerned that she will soon graduate into a “real world” that is particularly hard on women.

“Women used to be a lot more reliant on men,” she says, “but it’s all on our shoulders now. One wage isn’t enough to support a family any more. Even two wages struggle.”

***

It seems no coincidence that the downturn in drink and drugs has happened at the same time as the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. Could growing anxiety about the future, combined with a dip in disposable income, be taming the under-25s?

“I don’t know many people who choose drugs and alcohol over work,” says Tristan, a second-year natural scientist. He is one of about three men at the meeting and it is clear that even though baking has transcended age it has yet to transcend gender to the same extent. He is softly spoken and it is hard to hear him above a room full of sugar-addled youths. “I’ve been out once, maybe, in the past month,” he says.

“I actually thought binge drinking was quite a big deal for our generation,” says Tegan, a 19-year-old first-year linguistics undergraduate, “but personally I’m not into that. I’ve only been here three weeks and I can barely keep up with the workload.”

Tegan may consider her drinking habits unusual for someone her age but statistically they aren’t. Over a quarter of the under-25s are teetotal. Neither Tegan nor Lucy is dull. They are smart, witty and engaging. They are also enthusiastic and seemingly quite focused on work. It is this “get involved” attitude, perhaps, that distinguishes their generation from others.

In Absolutely Fabulous, one of the most popular British sitcoms of the 1990s, a lot of the humour stems from the relationship between the shallow and fashion-obsessed PR agent Edina Monsoon and her shockingly straitlaced teenage daughter, Saffie. Although Saffie belongs to Generation X, she is its antithesis: she is hard-working, moral, politically engaged, anti-drugs and prudishly anti-sex. By the standards of the 1990s, she is a hilarious anomaly. Had Ab Fab been written in the past couple of years, her character perhaps would have been considered too normal. Even her nerdy round glasses and frumpy knitted sweaters would have been considered pretty fashionable by today’s geek-chic standards.

Back in the UCL lecture theatre, four young women are “geeking out”. Between mouthfuls of cake, they are discussing, with palpable excitement, a Harry Potter-themed summer camp in Italy. “They play Quidditch and everything – there’s even a Sorting Hat,” says the tall, blonde student who is leading the conversation.

“This is for children, right?” I butt in.

“No!” she says. “The minimum age is actually 15.”

A kids’ book about wizards isn’t the only unlikely source of entertainment for this group of undergraduates. The consensus among all the students I speak to is that baking has become so popular with their demographic because of The Great British Bake Off. Who knew that Mary Berry’s chintzy cardigans and Sue Perkins’s endless puns were so appealing to the young?

Are the social and economic strains on young people today driving them towards escapism at its most gentle? Animal onesies, adult ball pools (one opened in west London last year) and that much-derided cereal café in Shoreditch, in the East End, all seem to make up a gigantic soft-play area for a generation immobilised by anxiety.

Emma, a 24-year-old graduate with whom I chatted on email, agrees. “It feels like everyone is more stressed and nervous,” she says. “It seems a particularly telling sign of the times that adult colouring-in books and little, cutesy books on mindfulness are such a massive thing right now. There are rows upon rows of bookshelves dedicated solely to all that . . . stuff.” Emma would know – she works for Waterstones.

From adult colouring books to knitting (UCL also has a knitting society, as do Bristol, Durham, Manchester and many more universities), it is hard to tell whether the tsunami of tweeness that has engulfed middle-class youth culture in the past few years is a symptom or a cause of the shrinking interest in drugs, alcohol, smoking and other “risk-taking” behaviours.

***

Christine Griffin is Professor of Social Psychology at Bath University. For the past ten years, she has been involved in research projects on alcohol consumption among 18-to-25-year-olds. She cites the recession as a possible cause of alcohol’s declining appeal, but notes that it is only part of the story. “There seems to be some sort of polarisation going on,” Griffin says. “Some young people are actually drinking more, while others are drinking less or abstaining.

“There are several different things going on but it’s clear that the culture of 18-to-25-year-olds going out to get really drunk hasn’t gone away. That’s still a pervasive social norm, even if more young people are drinking less or abstaining.”

Griffin suggests that while frequent, sustained drinking among young people is in decline, binge drinking is still happening – in short bursts.

“There are still a lot of people going to music festivals, where a huge amount of drinking and drug use goes on in a fairly unregulated way,” she says. It is possible that music festivals and holidays abroad (of the kind depicted in Channel 4 programmes such as What Happens in Kavos, in which British teenagers leave Greek islands drenched in booze and other bodily fluids) are seen as opportunities to make a complete escape from everyday life. An entire year’s worth of drinking, drug-taking and sex can be condensed into a week, or even a weekend, before young people return to a life centred around hard work.

Richard De Visser, a reader in psychology at Sussex University, also lists the economy as a possible cause for the supposed tameness of the under-25s. Like Griffin, however, he believes that the development is too complex to be pinned purely on a lack of disposable income. Both Griffin and De Visser mention that, as Britain has become more ethnically diverse, people who do not drink for religious or cultural reasons – Muslims, for instance – have become more visible. This visibility, De Visser suggests, is breaking down taboos and allowing non-mainstream behaviours, such as not drinking, to become more socially accepted.

“There’s just more variety,” he says. “My eldest son, who’s about to turn 14, has conversations – about sexuality, for example – that I never would’ve had at his age. I think there’s more awareness of alcohol-related problems and addiction, too.”

De Visser also mentions the importance of self-image and reputation to many of the young non-drinkers to whom he has spoken. These factors, he argues, are likely to be more important to people than the long-term effects of heavy drinking. “One girl I interviewed said she wouldn’t want to meet the drunk version of herself.”

Jess, a self-described “granny”, is similarly wary of alcohol. The 20-year-old Liverpudlian, who works in marketing, makes a bold claim for someone her age. “I’ve never really been drunk,” she says. “I’ve just never really been bothered with alcohol or drugs.” Ironically, someone of her generation, according to ONS statistics, is far more likely to be teetotal than a real granny at any point in her life. Jess says she enjoys socialising but her nights out with close friends are rather tame – more likely to involve dinner and one quick drink than several tequila shots and a traffic cone.

It is possible, she suggests, that her lack of interest in binge drinking, or even getting a little tipsy, has something to do with her work ethic. “There’s a lot more competition now,” she says. “I don’t have a degree and I’m conscious of the need to be on top of my game to compete with people who do. There’s a shortage of jobs even for people who do have degrees.”

Furthermore, Jess says that many of her interactions with friends involve social media. One theory put forward to explain Generation Zzzz is that pubs are losing business to Facebook and Twitter as more and more socialising happens online. Why tell someone in person that you “like” their baby, or cat, or new job (probably over an expensive pint), when you can do so from your sofa, at the click of a button?

Hannah, aged 22, isn’t so sure. She recently started her own social media and communications business and believes that money, or the lack of it, is why her peers are staying in. “Going out is so expensive,” she says, “especially at university. You can’t spend out on alcohol, then expect to pay rent and fees.” Like Jess (and as you would probably expect of a 22-year-old who runs a business), Hannah has a strong work ethic. She also has no particular interest in getting wasted. “I’ve always wanted my own business, so for me everything else was just a distraction,” she says. “Our generation is aware it’s going to be a bit harder for us, and if you want to support yourself you have to work for it.” She also suggests that, these days, people around her age have more entrepreneurial role models.

I wonder if Hannah, as a young businesswoman, has been inspired by the nascent strand of free-market, “lean in” feminism. Although the women’s movement used to align itself more with socialism (and still does, from time to time), it is possible that a 21st-century wave of disciples of Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook’s chief operating officer, is forswearing booze, drugs and any remote risk of getting pregnant, in order to get ahead in business.

But more about sex. Do the apparently lower rates of sexually transmitted infections and teenage pregnancies suggest that young people are having less of it? In the age of Tinder, when hooking up with a stranger can be as easy as ordering a pizza, this seems unlikely. Joe Head is a youth worker who has been advising 12-to-21-year-olds in the Leighton Buzzard area of Bedfordshire on sexual health (among other things) for 15 years. Within this period, Head says, the government has put substantial resources into tackling drug use and teen pregnancy. Much of this is the result of the Blair government’s Every Child Matters (ECM) initiative of 2003, which was directed at improving the health and well-being of children and young adults.

“ECM gave social services a clearer framework to access funds for specific work around sexual health and safety,” he says. “It also became a lot easier to access immediate information on drugs, alcohol and sexual health via the internet.”

***

Head also mentions government-funded education services such as Frank – the cleverly branded “down with the kids” anti-drugs programme responsible for those “Talk to Frank” television adverts. (Remember the one showing bags of cocaine being removed from a dead dog and voiced by David Mitchell?)

But Head believes that the ways in which some statistics are gathered may account for the apparent drop in STIs. He refers to a particular campaign from about five years ago in which young people were asked to take a test for chlamydia, whether they were sexually active or not. “A lot of young people I worked with said they did multiple chlamydia tests throughout the month,” he says. The implication is that various agencies were competing for the best results in order to prove that their education programmes had been effective.

However, regardless of whether govern­ment agencies have been gaming the STI statistics, sex education has improved significantly over the past decade. Luke, a 22-year-old hospital worker (and self-described “boring bastard”), says that sex education at school played a “massive part” in his safety-conscious attitude. “My mother was always very open [about sex], as was my father,” he says. “I remember talking to my dad at 16 about my first serious girlfriend – I had already had sex with her by this point – and him giving me the advice, ‘Don’t get her pregnant. Just stick to fingering.’” I suspect that not all parents of millennials are as frank as Luke’s, but teenagers having sex is no longer taboo.

Luke’s attitude towards drugs encapsulates the Generation Zzzz ethos beautifully: although he has taken MDMA, he “researched” it beforehand. It is this lack of spontaneity that has shaped a generation of young fogeys. This cohort of grannies and boring bastards, of perpetual renters and jobseekers in an economy wrecked by less cautious generations, is one that has been tamed by anxiety and fear.

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.

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