How Labour would solve the youth unemployment crisis

The government's approach has utterly failed. We need a revolution in the way businesses, ministers and schools work together to get young people into work.

Today, the government finally admitted the truth. Its Youth Contract has utterly failed to get our young people back to work. The flagship scheme is now on course to miss its target by more than 92% - no wonder there are still almost a million young people out of work. The benefits bill for young people is now more than £3.6bn a year.

Today, Labour says we simply can’t go on like this. The system is broken and its needs to change, and one of those changes has to be a revolution in the way small business, government and schools work together to get our teenagers job-ready. That’s the conclusion of a radical report by Labour’s Youth Jobs Taskforce, led by Alan Buckle, deputy chairman of KPMG, which we publish today.

We asked Alan to spend six months talking to business about just what they can do to help tackle Britain’s youth unemployment crisis. We found some stark conclusions. British business is ashamed of the UK's sky-high youth unemployment – and champing at the bit to help – but all too often the system is getting in the way.

Look at Westfield’s work in east London to make sure Newham residents were first in line for work at the new retail park. Look at the National Grid’s programme to employ young ex-offenders. It’s a scheme that’s helped over 2,000 young people get a job. And look at the way that Labour councils like Liverpool, Sheffield and Manchester are creating Apprenticeship Agencies to forge a new partnership with small business to get young people onto the first rung of the careers ladder.

Businesses small and large want to join forces in tackling this crisis. But the government is letting them down. Our report finds that Britain’s small businesses have all but given up on the Work Programme and the Youth Contract which are respectively, abysmal and anonymous. Even Nick Clegg admits the system isn’t working.

But what the report exposes is that the problem now runs much deeper. Careers services have become all but extinct and young people now lack any independent advice on what skills to develop to land a local job and a local career.

The world of work is changing all the time, yet our young people have no guarantee of independent careers education and guidance at school, and the government has scrapped the right to work experience. No wonder six in ten firms say school and college leavers have not developed the self-management skills they need for work. Education and work are just too far apart and the result is a situation where we have nearly a million young people desperate for work at the same time as  business is reporting skills shortages that are getting worse not better. We can’t go on like this. Our report suggests some big changes.

First, we have to find a new way to harness small business. According to the Federation of Small Businesses, nine out of ten unemployed or inactive people who move into jobs do so with small businesses. So we have to revolutionise the way apprenticeships work for SMEs. Liverpool, Leeds and Sheffield are creating apprenticeship training agencies to make it easy for an SME to say 'yes' to a young apprentice.

Second, it means exploring how small business, government and schools can come together to rebuild Britain’s careers service. Labour pioneers like Manchester City Council are piloting UCAS-style clearing houses for apprenticeships to help small businesses find the recruits they need.

Third, we should look at opening up access to job outcome data for schools, so parents can get a much better idea of how well local schools are preparing their children for the world of work.

Fourth, we have to multiply the ways we bring businesses and schools closer together. At the best primary schools today, pupils are offered 'work discovery' to inspire them about the world of work. That’s especially important for opening male-dominated professions, like engineering, to women. For older pupils, employers should accredit rigorous vocational qualifications as part of our Tech Bacc alongside a work placement. And why not encourage more business people to sit on governing boards? We would give all schools the freedom to innovate with the national curriculum, so they can work with local businesses to tailor courses for local labour market.

Finally, we need to look into ensuring that young people leave school with a plan for their future careers, whether that’s a university, apprenticeship or employment offer. No one should feel undersupported when they move into the working world.

For three years now, this government’s policy has been one effort after another to divide and rule. To find one 'welfare dividing line' after another. When did we ever achieve anything by turning on each other? We have only ever achieved great things when we’ve pulled together. That’s what needs to happen now. We can end the crisis of youth unemployment. Business is up for it. Schools and colleges are up for it. We’re up for it. We just need to get the Conservative Party out the way.

Liam Byrne is shadow work and pensions secretary; Stephen Twigg is shadow education secretary

Two youths sit on a bench in Corby, Northamptonshire. Photograph: Getty Images.

Liam Byrne is shadow work and pensions secretary; Stephen Twigg is shadow education secretary

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Meet the hot, funny, carefree Cool Mums – the maternal version of the Cool Girl

As new film Bad Moms reveals, what the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy.

I suppose we should all be thankful. Time was when “mum’s night off” came in the form of a KFC value bucket. Now, with the advent of films such as Bad Moms – “from the gratefully married writers of The Hangover” – it looks as though mums are finally getting permission to cut loose and party hard.

This revelation could not come a moment too soon. Fellow mums, you know all those stupid rules we’ve been following? The ones where we think “god, I must do this, or it will ruin my precious child’s life”? Turns out we can say “sod it” and get pissed instead. Jon Lucas and Scott Moore said so.

I saw the trailer for Bad Moms in the cinema with my sons, waiting for Ghostbusters to start. Much as I appreciate a female-led comedy, particularly one that suggests there is virtue in shirking one’s maternal responsibilities, I have to say there was something about it that instantly made me uneasy. It seems the media is still set on making the Mommy Wars happen, pitching what one male reviewer describes as “the condescending harpies that run the PTA” against the nice, sexy mummies who just want to have fun (while also happening to look like Mila Kunis). It’s a set up we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again, and while I’m happy some attention is being paid to the pressures modern mothers are under, I sense that another is being created: the pressure to be a cool mum.

When I say “cool mum” I’m thinking of a maternal version of the cool girl, so brilliantly described in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl:

“Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.”

The cool girl isn’t like all the others. She isn’t weighed down by the pressures of femininity. She isn’t bothered about the rules because she knows how stupid they are (or at least, how stupid men think they are). She does what she likes, or at least gives the impression of doing so. No one has to feel guilty around the cool girl. She puts all other women, those uptight little princesses, to shame.

What the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy. The cool mum doesn’t bore everyone by banging on about organic food, sleeping habits or potty training. Neither hyper-controlling nor obsessively off-grid, she’s managed to combine reproducing with remaining a well-balanced person, with interests extending far beyond CBeebies and vaccination pros and cons. She laughs in the face of those anxious mummies ferrying their kids to and from a multitude of different clubs, in between making  cupcakes for the latest bake sale and sitting on the school board. The cool mum doesn’t give a damn about dirty clothes or additives. After all, isn’t the key to happy children a happy mum? Perfection is for narcissists.

It’s great spending time with the cool mum. She doesn’t make you feel guilty about all the unpaid drudgery about which other mothers complain. She’s not one to indulge in passive aggression, expecting gratitude for all those sacrifices that no one even asked her to make. She’s entertaining and funny. Instead of fretting about getting up in time to do the school run, she’ll stay up all night, drinking you under the table. Unlike the molly-coddled offspring of the helicopter mum or the stressed-out kids of the tiger mother, her children are perfectly content and well behaved, precisely because they’ve learned that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Mummy’s a person, too.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, just how well this works out. Just as the cool girl manages to meet all the standards for patriarchal fuckability without ever getting neurotic about diets, the cool mum raises healthy, happy children without ever appearing to be doing any actual motherwork. Because motherwork, like dieting, is dull. The only reason any woman would bother with either of them is out of some misplaced sense of having to compete with other women. But what women don’t realise – despite the best efforts of men such as the Bad Moms writers to educate us on this score – is that the kind of woman who openly obsesses over her children or her looks isn’t worth emulating. On the contrary, she’s a selfish bitch.

For what could be more selfish than revealing to the world that the performance of femininity doesn’t come for free? That our female bodies are not naturally hairless, odourless, fat-free playgrounds? That the love and devotion we give our children – the very care work that keeps them alive – is not something that just happens regardless of whether or not we’ve had to reimagine our entire selves to meet their needs? No one wants to know about the efforts women make to perform the roles which men have decided come naturally to us. It’s not that we’re not still expected to be perfect partners and mothers. It’s not as though someone else is on hand to pick up the slack if we go on strike. It’s just that we’re also required to pretend that our ideals of physical and maternal perfection are not imposed on us by our position in a social hierarchy. On the contrary, they’re meant to be things we’ve dreamed up amongst ourselves, wilfully, if only because each of us is a hyper-competitive, self-centred mean girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if the biggest pressures mothers faced really did come from other mothers. Alas, this really isn’t true. Let’s look, for instance, at the situation in the US, where Bad Moms is set. I have to say, if I were living in a place where a woman could be locked up for drinking alcohol while pregnant, where she could be sentenced to decades behind bars for failing to prevent an abusive partner from harming her child, where she could be penalised in a custody case on account of being a working mother – if I were living there, I’d be more than a little paranoid about fucking up, too. It’s all very well to say “give yourself a break, it’s not as though the motherhood police are out to get you”. Actually, you might find that they are, especially if, unlike Kunis’s character in Bad Moms, you happen to be poor and/or a woman of colour.

Even when the stakes are not so high, there is another reason why mothers are stressed that has nothing to do with pressures of our own making. We are not in need of mindfulness, bubble baths nor even booze (although the latter would be gratefully received). We are stressed because we are raising children in a culture which strictly compartmentalises work, home and leisure. When one “infects” the other – when we miss work due to a child’s illness, or have to absent ourselves to express breastmilk at social gatherings, or end up bringing a toddler along to work events – this is seen as a failure on our part. We have taken on too much. Work is work and life is life, and the two should never meet.

No one ever says “the separation between these different spheres – indeed, the whole notion of work/life balance – is an arbitrary construct. It shouldn’t be down to mothers to maintain these boundaries on behalf of everyone else.” Throughout human history different cultures have combined work and childcare. Yet ours has decreed that when women do so they are foolishly trying to “have it all”, ignoring the fact that no one is offering mothers any other way of raising children while maintaining some degree of financial autonomy. These different spheres ought to be bleeding into one another.  If we are genuinely interested in destroying hierarchies by making boundaries more fluid, these are the kind of boundaries we should be looking at. The problem lies not with identities – good mother, bad mother, yummy mummy, MILF – but with the way in which we understand and carry out our day-to-day tasks.

But work is boring. Far easier to think that nice mothers are held back, not by actual exploitation, but by meanie alpha mummies making up arbitrary, pointless rules. And yes, I’d love to be a bad mummy, one who stands up and says no to all that. Wouldn’t we all? I’d be all for smashing the matriarchy, if that were the actual problem here, but it’s not.

It’s not that mummies aren’t allowing each other to get down and party. God knows, we need it. It’s just that it’s a lot less fun when you know the world will still be counting on you to clear up afterwards.  

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.