The damage of financial abuse can continue long after a relationship is over. Photo: Flickr
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Government and banks must tackle the overlooked financial element of domestic abuse

Time for government, banks and creditors to break the silence.

Financial abuse is little recognised. But it’s serious. Many people are unaware that controlling someone’s money or limiting their economic freedom is in fact a form of domestic abuse.

It may not be as visible as physical violence, but exerting financial control can trap victims in abusive relationships by isolating them from friends and family, or cutting them off from the money they need to leave.

And the damage of financial abuse can continue long after the relationship is over. Victims can be left in dire financial straits, liable for debts they never agreed to, and at the mercy of the perpetrator who can still control and access their money.

The Home Secretary’s recent announcement that the government will seek to make "coercive control" illegal, marks a shift towards national recognition that domestic abuse is not just physical. It’s time that psychological, emotional and financial abuse was put on the same legal footing as physical abuse.

A new Citizens Advice report shines the spotlight on the hidden prevalence of financial abuse: nine in ten advisers contributing to our research have helped people with such cases in the last year.

One of the most common forms is where individuals have been forced by their partner to take out loans on their behalf: almost three-quarters of the advisers who responded to our survey have helped a client who has taken out credit and gone into debt as a result of pressure from their partner. Yet too often, high street banks and other lenders fail to acknowledge that their customer may be subjected to this type of control.

Earlier this year, a young woman came to Citizens Advice seeking help with almost £10,000 of debt. She had left her home and marriage because of the abuse she suffered from her husband. Following physical abuse and threats in the relationship, she had been forced by her partner to take out a number of debts in her own name, passing the money onto him. These included bank loans and credit cards, as well as acting as a guarantor for his loans.

Banks and other lenders have a big role to play in tackling this problem. While there is some good practice, the majority of banks and creditors fail to recognise the needs of those customers who fall victim to this type of abuse.

Of course it is a difficult area. It is not easy for a company to investigate behind the privacy of closed doors. Nor is it straightforward for victims to approach companies to try to untangle themselves from these sorts of financial ties.

Up until this point, statutory and self-regulators in the financial services industry have done little to ensure banks, lenders and other financial institution have a set of guidelines to help. This needs to change if victims of the kind of coercive control highlighted by Theresa May and our report are to be supported.

It is time financial abuse is addressed. The political will to do so is there: all three of the biggest political parties have pledged admirable commitment to eliminating abuse. It is time action is taken to prevent it and to help support victims to get back on their feet and on with their lives.

Government and financial professionals must work together to develop the framework so urgently needed to protect individuals at their most vulnerable.

Imogen Parker is Senior Policy Researcher at Citizens Advice and is leading the charity’s research into domestic abuse. She tweets @ImogenParker

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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.