There still aren't 120,000 "troubled families"

A zombie statistic refuses to die, even as the DCLG helps 3,000 real families.

The government is very happy that its "troubled families" intervention programme is having results, with the BBC reporting that:

Early intervention by a dedicated case worker has reduced crime among those people involved by 45%… Anti-social behaviour has gone down by 59%.

Those are good results, even if the vast majority of the report is case studies of a few of the families involved. As for the actual results, the vast majority of quantitative data presented is percentage changes. This is clearly important; but it's also crucial to know how many troubled families actually exist, and how many can be helped. After all, a programme which is targeted at just a handful of families isn't particularly useful in the grand scheme of things.

This is an area the government, and the BBC, fall down on severely. The Department for Communities and Local Government's report claims, three times, that there are 120,000 families.

This is incredibly unlikely to be true. We've explained before, in detail, why this is the case, but the short version is that the DCLG claimed there were 120,000 troubled families defined with one set of criteria, but then changed the definition and continued claiming 120,000 families existed.

Unless two markedly different groups of people both add up to 120,000, it seems likely that this number was just pulled out of thin air (none of the research which the DCLG has made available explains where it came from). And yet today's report, and the BBC write-up, repeats it.

The BBC also claims that 40,000 families are expected to be helped this year, which would be a twelve-fold increase from the 3,324 families who were actually helped in 2011-2012 (and, of course, would still be just a third of the claimed eligibility). That figure of 3,324 is not mentioned anywhere in the BBC's report, nor the DCLG's press-release.

The trouble families programme does seem to be a great help to those families successfully referred to it, as Casey's report makes clear. But it is helping far, far fewer families than media reports make out; and part of that may be because no-one seems to actually know how many families are even eligible.

Broken window. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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It's not WhatsApp that was at fault in the Westminster attacks. It's our prisons

Britain's criminal justice system neither deterred nor rehabilitated Khalid Masood, and may even have facilitated his radicalisation. 

The dust has settled, the evidence has been collected and the government has decided who is to blame for the attack on Westminster. That’s right, its WhatsApp and their end-to-end encryption of messages. Amber Rudd, the Home Secretary, wants tech companies to install a backdoor into messages like these that the government can then access.

There are a couple of problems here, not least that Adrian Russell aka Khalid Masood was known to the security services but considered to be low-risk. Even if the government had had the ability to gain entry to his WhatsApp, they wouldn’t have used it. Then there’s the fact that end-to-end encryption doesn’t just protect criminals and terrorists – it protects users from criminals and terrorists. Any backdoor will be vulnerable to attack, not only from our own government and foreign powers, but by non-state actors including fraudsters, and other terrorists.

(I’m parking, also, the question of whether these are powers that should be handed to any government in perpetuity, particularly one in a country like Britain’s, where near-unchecked power is handed to the executive as long as it has a parliamentary majority.)

But the biggest problem is that there is an obvious area where government policy failed in the case of Masood: Britain’s prisons system.

Masood acted alone though it’s not yet clear if he was merely inspired by international jihadism – that is, he read news reports, watched their videos on social media and came up with the plan himself – or he was “enabled” – that is, he sought out and received help on how to plan his attack from the self-styled Islamic State.

But what we know for certain is that he was, as is a recurring feature of the “radicalisation journey”, in possession of a string of minor convictions from 1982 to 2002 and that he served jail time. As the point of having prisons is surely to deter both would-be offenders and rehabilitate its current occupants so they don’t offend again, Masood’s act of terror is an open-and-shut case of failure in the prison system. Not only he did prison fail to prevent him committing further crimes, he went on to commit one very major crime.  That he appears to have been radicalised in prison only compounds the failure.

The sad thing is that not so very long ago a Secretary of State at the Ministry of Justice was thinking seriously about prison and re-offending. While there was room to critique some of Michael Gove’s solutions to that problem, they were all a hell of a lot better than “let’s ban WhatsApp”. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.