The One Barnet case heralds local government’s disappearing act

This is a future vision of local government where councils are reduced to mere technocratic commissioning bodies.

 

Barnet Council’s radical plan to outsource 70 per cent of its services to a private company was upheld this week by the High Court on a technicality.

The legal challenge to the One Barnet programme brought by Maria Nash, a severely disabled resident of the north London borough, exposed the Council’s failure to consult residents on the planned changes to the fundamental role of local government. Lord Justice Underhill found that “the Council never set out to consult about its outsourcing programme at all” and that “representatives should have been given the opportunity to express views or concerns about outsourcing the functions or services in question”. However, despite the lack of consultation, Maria Nash’s challenge failed because it was brought out of time.

The decision means that unless Nash’s lawyers can mount a successful appeal, Barnet Council will proceed with plans to sign two contracts, together worth around £600m over 10 years, with Capita Plc, which privatise many of the Council’s core functions. With the precedent for the mass outsourcing of local government, we can expect other local authorities, in their desperate search for cost savings, to follow suit.

Dubbed the “easyCouncil”, Barnet’s Tory administration has characterised itself as a “no frills” local authority delivering only basic public services and charging for optional extras. Contracting out of services may be nothing new, but privatisation on this scale is. The Council will contract out quintessential local government services including planning, environmental health, cemeteries, customer services and highways to a single private provider. With this 790 full-time jobs will be transferred to the private sector. Many of these jobs will leave the borough leading to a loss of local knowledge on which services such as planning and environmental health rely.

This is a future vision of local government where councils are reduced to mere technocratic commissioning bodies rather than democratic authorities entrusted with developing and delivering social improvement in their communities.

But, some say, if it reduces the tax bill and delivers efficient services why the outcry?

Even before One Barnet programme, there have been warning signs that the wholesale privatisation of local government leads to downgraded services. Fiascos in Barnet over the outsourcing of car parking charges which led to heavy losses to high street businesses, mismanaged care schemes for disabled persons and IT providers that have gone bust at a massive loss to the taxpayer, do not augur well.

Driven by profit-making objectives, the private contractors, lack the public service ethos which is so important in the delivery of public services. Under the new contracts, a single company will have responsibility for granting planning permissions, building control certificates and environmental health. With a legal obligation to maximise profits for their shareholders, Capita will have every incentive under a 10 year contract to cut corners in a drive for greater profits.

And when things go wrong to whom should residents turn? To customer services now relocated to the other end of the country? To their local councillors? Ordinarily, a resident with a complaint about, say, flytipping in their street would contact their councillor to resolve the problem. But under privatised arrangements locked in for 10 years at a time councillors will lose most of their ability respond.

As Barnet Liberal Democrat councillor Jack Cohen put it “Does anyone think that locally elected councillors will have in future the same influence, the same advocacy rights and the same input with the large multinationals as they do at the moment?”

The outsourcing of local government services threatens not just to downgrade services but to downgrade local democracy. At the heart of the Nash case, which the court vindicated, was the fact that people were not asked for their views – neither at the ballot box nor in consultation – on what will be one of the most radical experiments in local government privatisation.

Once the contracts are signed they will remain in place for ten years, regardless of who wins the local elections. Any future administration will be caught in a contractual straightjacket. One might reasonably ask, what is the point of voting in local elections every four years when the contracts for managing most core services are only renegotiated every ten years?

The removal of local governments’ power over the day to day delivery of basic services is likely to be irreversible. The reduction of local authorities influence over social policy diminishes their power to innovate and control outcomes. With this week’s local elections likely to produce low voter turnouts, the privatisation of most local government functions will only lead to a further a breakdown in the relationship between ordinary citizens and local councils.

As John Stuart Mill recognised back in the 19th century the main purpose of local power was not simply to deliver efficient outcomes but to nourish the public spirit. Local government can provide greater opportunities for daily contact among and between citizens and their elected officials. However, councils can only become ‘schoolhouses of democracy’ if they are sufficiently empowered to take the decisions which shape the quality of local life. Power and participation go hand in hand – the existence of power tends to motivate people to participate in the exercise of that power. Powerlessness tends to breed the opposite. If people think that local authorities cannot significantly affect social policy in their area, why should they bother voting or even participating in the delivery of those services?

The mass privatisation of local services across Britain heralded by the One Barnet programme has the potential to fundamentally undermine local democracy. If that happens, there will be little to stop private companies taking over what little remains of local government.

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Angela Merkel's call for a burqa ban sets a disturbing precedent

The German chancellor's plan for a partial ban of the full-face veil is a clearly political move, which will do more to harm those women who wear it than protect them.

 

In these febrile times, women’s freedom and autonomy has become a bargaining chip in the poker game of public propaganda — and that goes double for brown, Muslim and migrant women. Angela Merkel should know as well as any other female politician how demeaning it is to be treated as if what you wear is more important than what you say and what you do. With the far-right on the rise across Europe, however, the German chancellor has become the latest lawmaker to call for a partial ban on the burqa and niqab.

We are told that this perennial political football is being kicked about in the name of liberating women. It can have nothing to do, of course, with the fact that popular opinion is lurching wildly to the right in western democracies, there’s an election in Germany next year, and Merkel is seen as being too soft on migration after her decision to allow a million Syrian refugees to enter the country last year. She is also somehow blamed for the mob attacks on women in Cologne, which have become a symbol of the threat that immigration poses to white women and, by extension, to white masculinity in Europe. Rape and abuse perpetrated by white Europeans, of course, is not considered a matter for urgent political intervention — nor could it be counted on to win back voters who have turned from Merkel's party to the far-right AFD, which wants to see a national debate on abortion rights and women restricted to their rightful role as mothers and homemakers.

If you’ll allow me to be cynical for a moment, imposing state restrictions on what women may and may not wear in public has not, historically, been a great foundation for feminist liberation. The move is symbolic, not practical. In Britain, where the ban is also being proposed by Ukip the services that actually protect women from domestic violence have been slashed over the past six years — the charity Refuge, the largest provider of domestic violence services in the UK, has seen a reduction in funding across 80% of its service contracts since 2011.

It’s worth noting that even in western countries with sizeable Muslim minorities, the number of women who wear full burqa is vanishingly small. If those women are victims of coercion or domestic violence, banning the burqa in public will not do a thing to make them safer — if anything, it will reduce their ability to leave their homes, isolating them further.

In the wake of the Brexit vote, racist and Islamophobic attacks spiked in the UK. Hate crimes nationally shot up by 42% in the two weeks following the vote on 23 June. Hate crimes against Muslim women increased by over 300%, with visibly Muslim women experiencing 46% of all hate incidents. Instances of headscarves being ripped off have become so common that self-defense videos are being shared online, showing women how to deflect the “hijab grab”. In this context, it is absurd to claim that politicians proposing a burqa ban care about protecting women: the move is transparently designed to placate the very people who are making Muslim women feel unsafe in their own communities.

When politicians talk about banning the burqa, the public hears an attack on all Islamic headscarves — not everyone knows the difference between the hijab, the niqab and the burqa, and not everyone cares. The important thing is that seeing women dressed that way makes some people feel uncomfortable, and desperate politicians are casting about for ways to validate that discomfort.

Women who actually wear the burqa are not invited to speak about their experiences or state their preferences in this debate. On this point, Islamic fundamentalists and panicked western conservatives are in absolute agreement: Muslim women are provocative and deserve to be treated as a threat to masculine pride. They should shut up and let other people decide what’s best for them.

I know Muslim women who regard even the simple hijab as an object of oppression and have sworn never to wear one again. I also know Muslim women who wear headscarves every day as a statement both of faith and of political defiance. There is no neutral fashion option for a woman of Islamic faith — either way, men in positions of power will feel entitled to judge, shame and threaten. Either choice risks provoking anger and violence from someone with an opinion about what your outfit means for them. The important thing is the autonomy that comes with still having a choice.

A law which treats women like children who cannot be trusted to make basic decisions about their bodies and clothing is a sexist law; a law that singles out religious minorities and women of colour as especially unworthy of autonomy is a racist, sexist law. Instituting racist, sexist laws is a good way to win back the votes of racist, sexist people, but, again, a dreadful way of protecting women. In practice, a burqa ban, even the partial version proposed by Merkel which will most likely be hard to enforce under German constitutional law, will directly impact only a few thousand people in the west. Those people are women of colour, many of them immigrants or foreigners, people whose actual lives are already of minimal importance to the state except on an abstract, symbolic level, as the embodiment of a notional threat to white Christian patriarchy. Many believe that France's longstanding burqa ban has increased racial tensions — encapsulated by the image earlier this year of French police surrounding a woman who was just trying to relax with her family on the beach in a burkini. There's definitely male violence at play here, but a different kind — a kind that cannot be mined for political capital, because it comes from the heart of the state.

This has been the case for centuries: long before the US government used the term“Operation Enduring Freedom” to describe the war in Afghanistan, western politicians used the symbolism of the veil to recast the repeated invasion of Middle Eastern nations as a project of feminist liberation. The same colonists who justified the British takeover of Islamic countries abroad were active in the fight to suppress women’s suffrage at home. This is not about freeing women, but about soothing and coddling men’s feelings about women.

The security argument is even more farcical: border guards are already able to strip people of their clothes, underwear and dignity if they get the urge. If a state truly believes that facial coverings are some sort of security threat, it should start by banning beards, but let's be serious, masculinity is fragile enough as it is. If it were less so, we wouldn't have politicians panicking over how to placate the millions of people who view the clothing choices of minority and migrant women as an active identity threat.

Many decent, tolerant people, including feminists, are torn on the issue of the burqa: of course we don't want the state to start policing what women can and can't wear, but isn't the burqa oppressive? Maybe so, but I was not aware of feminism as a movement that demands that all oppressive clothing be subject to police confiscation, unless the Met’s evidence lockers are full of stilettos, girdles and push-up bras. In case you're wondering, yes, I do feel uncomfortable on the rare occasions when I have seen people wearing the full face veil in public. I've spent enough time living with goths and hippies that I've a high tolerance for ersatz fashion choices — but do wonder what their home lives are like and whether they are happy and safe, and that makes me feel anxious. Banning the burqa might make me feel less anxious. It would not, however, improve the lives of the women who actually wear it. That is what matters. My personal feelings as a white woman about how Muslim women choose to dress are, in fact, staggeringly unimportant.

If you think the Burqa is oppressive and offensive, you are perfectly entitled never to wear one. You are not, however, entitled to make that decision for anyone else. Exactly the same principle applies in the interminable battle over women's basic reproductive choices: many people believe that abortion is wrong, sinful and damaging to women. That's okay. I suggest they never have an abortion. What's not okay is taking away that autonomy from others as a cheap ploy for good press coverage in the runup to an election.

This debate has been dragging on for decades, but there's a new urgency to it now, a new danger: we are now in a political climate where the elected leaders of major nations are talking about registries for Muslims and other minorities. Instituting a symbolic ban on religious dress, however extreme, sets a precedent. What comes next? Are we going to ban every form of Islamic headdress? What about the yarmulke, the tichel, the Sikh turban, the rainbow flag? If this is about community cohesion, what will it take to make white conservatives feel “comfortable”? Where does it stop? Whose freedoms are politicians prepared to sacrifice as a sop to a populace made bitter and unpredictable by 30 years of neoliberal incompetence? Where do we draw the line?

We draw it right here, between the state and the autonomy of women, particularly minority and migrant women who are already facing harassment in unprecedented numbers. Whatever you feel about the burqa, it is not the role of government to police what women wear, and doing it has nothing to do with protection. It is chauvinist, it is repressive, it is a deeply disturbing precedent, and it has no place in our public conversation.

 
 
 
 

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.