Good news on the jobs front, but why is the Youth Contract not working?

A year on from its launch, the Youth Contract looks feeble in comparison to the problem it is trying to solve. It's time for a jobs guarantee.

Today’s labour market statistics continued the good news of recent months. Employment rose at the fastest annual rate since 1989, and the inactivity rate, the proportion of the population neither in work or looking for a job, is at its lowest level since 1991. Whilst there are legitimate questions about how this 'jobs miracle' is possible given the poor state of the economy, we should be very encouraged that of all the issues the UK faces, job creation does not appear to be one of them at the moment.

But behind the positive headline numbers there are still some sections of the population facing a very difficult jobs market. Youth unemployment, which was falling at an encouraging pace until a few months ago, appears now to be stuck in reverse, with the number of young people unemployed rising 11,000 in the latest quarter. Even more worrying, the number of young people unemployed for over a year, and in danger of permanent wage scarring and disconnection from the labour market, is up by 10,000. There are some positive signs, with the numbers of economically inactive youth falling and employment amongst the group rising, but the high level of unemployment points towards a large proportion of the young being left behind as the labour market improves overall.

And what is being done about it? The coalition’s Youth Contract, launched over a year ago, aimed for a radical increase in support for young people’s entry into work, providing incentives for employers to take on young employees, increases in apprenticeship numbers, and greater provision of work experience placements. It was hoped to be, in the words of Nick Clegg, "a major moment for Britain’s unemployed young people".

And where are we now? Today’s data shows that youth unemployment remains stubbornly high. A week ago Cait Reilly succeeded in challenging the DWP over its mandatory work activity scheme. And last month the latest apprenticeships data showed that new places were disproportionately going to the over-25s, with the number of school-leavers moving into apprenticeships actually falling. A year on, the Youth Contract looks feeble in comparison to the problem it is trying to solve.

A better approach would be to tackle both the short and long-term causes of youth unemployment head on. Firstly, IPPR has suggested that a jobs guarantee be adopted, with anyone unemployed and claiming Jobseeker's Allowance (JSA) for over 12 months offered a paid job at the minimum wage. There were almost 80,000 young people in this group in December, a rise of 35,000 on a year ago. This would offer instant help to them, and is a fundamentally better policy than making people work for their JSA.

Over the longer-term, we need a revolution in how the system of transition from school to work operates. At the moment, most of the 50 per cent of young people who don’t go to university are faced with poorly-funded careers advice, low-quality or non-existent apprenticeship places, and a confusing plethora of vocational education options of variable worth. This group are being ill-served by the system, which doesn’t offer the skills or the experience needed for them to fully flourish in 21st century Britain.

Changing the deeply ingrained transition system will be difficult, but the evidence from other countries suggests it is not impossible, if the will from politicians, employers, unions and wider society is there. IPPR is currently carrying out a major research project in order to learn valuable international lessons on youth unemployment that can be applied to a UK context.

Today’s jobs data was great on most fronts. But if we fail to tackle the deeply-set issues around marginal groups in the labour force, including youth unemployment, we are in danger of a recovery for some, but one that misses out on those most in need.

Spencer Thompson is economic analyst at IPPR

Nick Clegg claimed the Youth Jobs Contract would be "a major moment for Britain’s unemployed young people". Photograph: Getty Images.

Spencer Thompson is economic analyst at IPPR

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times