The state can't afford to cut back family support

Children are not a private luxury but the future workers and taxpayers of this country. Labour should pledge to reverse the fall in the value of child benefit.

The dog days are upon us and like most parents, I’m scrabbling around for childcare and searching for affordable activities for my child. The summer holidays cost – but as new research published by the Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG) and the Joseph Rowntree Foundation (JRF) shows, an ice cream here and play scheme there is just the beginning of it.

Cost of a Child in 2013 documents the minimum income required to bring up a child in the UK today. It draws on JRF’s on-going work, which regularly asks members of the public which items they think we should all be able to afford. What emerges from this exercise is a consensus that families need enough to cover the bare essentials such as food and shelter, but also require a modest amount to enable them to participate in normal social activities too.

The numbers are enough to make anyone sit up and think: the research estimates the minimum acceptable cost of a child over 18 years is £81,722 for couple, and £90,980 for a single parent. (The figure for single parents is higher due to the fact that there is only one adult in the family to offset some of the children’s costs by reducing their own). Add in childcare costs and the numbers increase still further - to £148,105 for couples and a staggering £161,260 for single parents, over the 18-year period.

The figures illuminate why families with children are generally at a higher risk of poverty than other groups in society: costs sky-rocket when we have children yet our earning power is compromised by childcare responsibilities. In recognition of this, the state helps us smooth our incomes over the course of our lifetime through the provision of child benefit and, for lower-income families, child tax credits too.

But as the report documents, both these sources of support have diminished considerably in recent years. Child benefit was frozen in 2010 and has consequently lost one-seventh of its value; tax credits look set to wither away in a similar manner as they are uprated at a mere 1% over the next three years.

With earnings lagging behind costs as well, it’s not surprising that a couple with two children working full-time on the minimum wage today net only 83 per cent of the minimum income they require. While the same couple can just about reach an adequate standard of living on the median wage – our national mid-point - a single parent family in the same situation is still almost 10 per cent shy of a decent standard of living.

There’s a question, of course, as to how much the state should help parents with the costs of their children. But children are not a private luxury as some current political debates like to suggest. Instead, they are the future workers and taxpayers of this country and supporting families with their children’s costs is more accurately seen as an investment, not the deadweight cost it is often presented as.

Labour has indicated that restoring child benefit to higher earners would not be a priority if it were in power but has remained silent on whether it would seek to restore the benefit’s real value to its 2010 level. Meanwhile, the coalition is proposing to pay childcare costs to families earning up to £300,000 between them, while through universal credit it will compensate only those earning more than £10,000. And the Conservatives are set to unveil plans later this year to introduce a married couple's tax allowance. But as far as I know, once the wedding is over, married couples don’t have any additional costs, so it is hard to see any rationale for it.

Meanwhile, think tanks such as IPPR have gone on record numerous times to suggest that child benefit be frozen for a decade and the money redeployed to pay for additional childcare support. The Cost of a Child report shows what a self-defeating strategy that would be: subsidising childcare by cutting child benefit is giving with one hand while taking away with the other. As we move towards the 'living standards election' of 2015, all parties need to think harder about how we re-commit to all our children - as we did after the Second World War through universal family allowances – we need to find more funds and better ways to help families at all income levels, working or not working, with the costs of a child.   

Washing hangs out to dry above children's bikes on the balcony of a residential development in the London borough of Tower Hamlets. Photograph: Getty Images.

Alison Garnham is chief executive of the Child Poverty Action Group

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Misogynoir: How social media abuse exposes longstanding prejudices against black women

After decades as an MP, Diane Abbott finally spoke out about the racist and sexist abuse she faces. But she's not alone. 

“Which STD will end your miserable life?” “This is why monkeys don’t belong here.” “I hope you get lynched”. These are just some of the many messages Seyi Akiwowo, a Labour councillor in Newham, told me she has been sent over the past three weeks. Akiwowo has received reams of violent and racist abuse after a video of her suggesting former empires pay reparations to countries they once colonised (and whose resources they still continue to plunder) went viral. She doesn’t expect everyone to agree with her, she said, but people seem to think they’re entitled to hurl abuse at her because she’s a black woman.

The particular intensity of misogyny directed at black women is so commonplace that it was given a name by academic Moya Bailey: misogynoir. This was highlighted recently when Diane Abbott, the country’s first and most-well known black woman MP and current shadow Home secretary, spoke out about the violent messages she’s received and continues to receive. The messages are so serious that Abbott’s staff often fear for her safety. There is an implicit point in abuse like this: women of colour, in particular black women, should know their place. If they dare to share their opinions, they’ll be attacked for it.

There is no shortage of evidence to show women of colour are sent racist and sexist messages for simply having an opinion or being in the public eye, but there is a dearth of meaningful responses. “I don’t see social media companies or government leaders doing enough to rectify the issue,” said Akiwowo, who has reported some of the abuse she’s received. Chi Onwurah, shadow minister for Business, Innovation and Skills, agreed. “The advice from social media experts is not to feed the trolls, but that vacates the public space for them," she said. But ignoring abuse is a non-solution. Although Onwurah notes the police and media giants are beginning to take this abuse seriously, not enough is being done.

Akiwowo has conversations with young women of colour who become less sure they want to go into politics after seeing the way people like Abbott have been treated. It’s an unsurprising reaction. Kate Osamor, shadow secretary of state for International Development, argued no one should have to deal with the kind of vitriol Abbott does. It’s well documented that the ease and anonymity of social media platforms like Twitter and Facebook have changed the nature of communication – and for politicians, this means more abuse, at a faster pace and at all hours of the day. Social media, Onwurah said, has given abuse a “new lease of life”. There needs to be a concerted effort to stop people from using these platforms to spout their odious views.

But there is another layer to understanding misogyny and racism in public life. The rapid and anonymous, yet public, nature of social media has shone a light on what women of colour already know to be a reality. Dawn Butler MP, who has previously described racism as the House of Commons’ “dirty little secret”, told me “of course” she has experienced racism and sexism in Parliament: “What surprises me is when other people are surprised”. Perhaps that’s because there’s an unwillingness to realise or really grapple the pervasiveness of misogynoir.

“Sometimes it takes a lot of effort to get someone to understand the discriminatory nature of peoples’ actions,” Butler explained. “That itself is demoralising and exhausting.” After 30 years of racist and sexist treatment, it was only when Abbott highlighted the visceral abuse she experiences that politicians and commentators were willing to speak out in her support. Even then, there seemed to be little recognition of how deep this ran. In recent years, the Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn has been ridiculed for having a relationship with her in the 70s, as if a black woman’s sexuality is both intriguing and laughable; people regularly imply she’s incompetent, despite having been in Parliament for three decades and at the last general election increasing her majority by a staggering amount; she has even been derided by her own colleagues. Those Labour MPs who began the hashtag #PrayforDiane when she was off work because of illness spoke to a form of bullying that wouldn’t be acceptable in most workplaces.

These supposedly less obvious forms of racism and sexism are largely downplayed or seen as unrelated to discrimination. They might be understood through what influential scholar Stuart Hall called the “grammar of race”. Different from overtly racist comments, Hall says there’s a form of racism that’s “inferential”; naturalised representations of people - whether factual or fictional - have “racist premises and propositions inscribed in them as a set of unquestioned assumptions”. Alongside the racist insults hurled at black women politicians like Abbott, there’s a set of racialised tropes that rely on sexualisation or derision to undermine these women.

The streams of abuse on social media aren’t the only barrier people of colour – and women in particular – face when they think about getting into politics. “I don’t think there’s a shortage of people in the black community who put themselves forward to stand for office, you only have to look at when positions come up the list of people that go for the position,” Claudia Webbe, a councillor and member of Labour's ruling body the National Executive Committee told me. As one of the few black women to hold such a position in the history of the Labour party, she knows from her extensive career how the system works. “I think there is both a problem of unfair selection and a problem of BME [black and minority ethnic] people sustaining the course." Conscious and unconscious racial and gender bias means politics are, like other areas of work in the UK, more difficult to get into if you’re a woman of colour.

“The way white women respond to the way black women are treated is integral,” Osamor says, “They are part of the solution”. White women also face venomous and low-lying forms of sexism that are often overlooked, but at times the solidarity given to them is conditional for women of colour. In a leaked letter to The Guardian, Abbott’s staff criticised the police for not acting on death threats, while similar messages sent to Anna Soubry MP resulted in arrest. When the mainstream left talks about women, it usually means white women. This implicitly turns the experiences of women of colour into an afterthought.

The systematic discrimination against women of colour, and its erasure or addendum-like quality, stems from the colonial racial order. In the days of the British empire, white women were ranked as superior to colonised Asian and African women who were at different times seen as overly sexualised or unfeminine. Black women were at the bottom of this hierarchy. Women of colour were essentially discounted as real women. Recognising this does not equate to pitting white women and women of colour against each other. It is simply a case of recognising the fact that there is a distinct issue of racial abuse.

The online abuse women of colour, and black women specifically, is an issue that needs to be highlighted and dealt with. But there are other more insidious ways that racism and sexism manifest themselves in everyday political life, which should not be overlooked. “Thirty years ago I entered parliament to try and be the change I wanted to see,” Abbott wrote. “Despite the personal attacks and the online abuse, that struggle continues.” That struggle must be a collective one.

Maya Goodfellow researches race and racism in Britain. She is a staff writer at LabourList.