Caroline Lucas outlines how she'll work with Labour. Photo: Anoosh Chakelian
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What do we know so far about the Greens working with Labour in government?

Progressive alliances, no joint tickets, and ruling out working with Tories: the Greens clarify how they would work with Labour.

Green policies, red lines, watermelons, mangoes. It was the Green campaign launch this morning, and aside from rumblings about leader Natalie Bennett’s poor media performances, there was talk about how the party would work with Labour in government.

“We would be open to supporting a minority Labour government on a case by case basis,” Caroline Lucas told the press conference. “Working with parties like the SNP and Plaid Cymru, with whom we’ve always had a formal arrangement in the European parliament, we would form a progressive alliance that would put real pressure on a minority Labour government.”

We have already heard from the Greens that they would be open to a confidence-and-supply arrangement, if they were to prop up a government at all, but Lucas went into further detail than we have previously heard from a party that refuses to discuss “red lines” – other than on scrapping Trident.

She said that the alliance of smaller parties, “would be able to get things like a ban on fracking, as a clear thing on the agenda of a future government, major investment in clean energy and energy efficiency, scrapping Trident...”

When I spoke to Lucas after the event, I pushed her on the “red lines” the Greens would draw ahead of working with Labour in any capacity. She insisted: “We haven’t got to that point, but what we do know is the kind of things we want to be able to promote and push as part of our agenda. And so that means the kind of results around voting reform, Trident, or fracking, or austerity – some of the worst aspects of austerity, and so forth.

“But we have not had that discussion, because as soon as you start saying what you wouldn’t work on, you’ve started drawing the ‘red lines’, which I’ve just said we’re not talking about.”

However, Lucas did reveal that the Greens will be having “internal discussions” about red lines, “whether or not we’ll make those public I think is another question”. She added that the party is also having private discussions with Plaid Cymru and the SNP about “the building of a progressive alliance”.

“In terms of putting that to voters, there’s an awful lot of interest, even from traditional Labour-voting members of having a minority Labour government subjected to a progressive force pushing them on these issues on austerity, the environment, or rail in public hands.”

Lucas’s aim is for this small party alliance to “help make Labour be the party many backbenchers, Labour voters would like it to be, as well as pushing on our own strong environmental policies too”.

She denies that she has spoken to Labour politicians about this prospect “yet”, but says “certainly talking about how the small parties will work together – that is happening now”.

One Labour shadow cabinet aide recently mentioned to me that some plans had been mooted in the party to work with individual Green candidates to avoid them splitting Labour’s vote in certain seats. “A similar idea to when Ukip and the Tories were going to have local peace pacts,” they tell me.

I put this prospect to Lucas, who rules out working with individual Labour MPs. “I can’t imagine joint tickets,” she says. “But what would be nice would be to have a change in the electoral system which would then mean the Greens and Labour are not having to fight each other.

“I think we’ve ruled out having any arrangement propping up the Tories; we are a left of centre party, therefore Labour is a much more likely party for us to work with. But at the moment the electoral system is such that we do end up fighting each other, and that’s unfortunate in a way.”

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.

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This Ada Lovelace Day, let’s celebrate women in tech while confronting its sexist culture

In an industry where men hold most of the jobs and write most of the code, celebrating women's contributions on one day a year isn't enough. 

Ada Lovelace wrote the world’s first computer program. In the 1840s Charles Babbage, now known as the “father of the computer”, designed (though never built) the “Analytical Engine”, a machine which could accurately and reproducibly calculate the answers to maths problems. While translating an article by an Italian mathematician about the machine, Lovelace included a written algorithm for which would allow the engine to calculate a sequence of Bernoulli numbers.

Around 170 years later, Whitney Wolfe, one of the founders of dating app Tinder, was allegedly forced to resign from the company. According to a lawsuit she later filed against the app and its parent company, she had her co-founder title removed because, the male founders argued, it would look “slutty”, and because “Facebook and Snapchat don’t have girl founders. It just makes it look like Tinder was some accident". (They settled out of court.)

Today, 13 October, is Ada Lovelace day – an international celebration of inspirational women in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). It’s lucky we have this day of remembrance, because, as Wolfe’s story demonstrates, we also spend a lot of time forgetting and sidelining women in tech. In the wash of pale male founders of the tech giants that rule the industry,we don't often think about the women that shaped its foundations: Judith Estrin, one of the designers of TCP/IP, for example, or Radia Perlman, inventor of the spanning-tree protocol. Both inventions sound complicated, and they are – they’re some of the vital building blocks that allow the internet to function. 

And yet David Streitfield, a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist, someow felt it accurate to write in 2012: “Men invented the internet. And not just any men. Men with pocket protectors. Men who idolised Mr Spock and cried when Steve Jobs died.”

Perhaps we forget about tech's founding women because the needle has swung so far into the other direction. A huge proportion – perhaps even 90 per cent - of the world’s code is written by men. At Google, women fill 17 per cent of technical roles. At Facebook, 15 per cent. Over 90 per cent of the code respositories on Github, an online service used throughout the industry, are owned by men. Yet it's also hard to believe that this erasure of women's role in tech is completely accidental. As Elissa Shevinsky writes in the introduction to a collection of essays on gender in tech, Lean Out: “This myth of the nerdy male founder has been perpetuated by men who found this story favourable."

Does it matter? It’s hard to believe that it doesn’t. Our society is increasingly defined and delineated by code and the things it builds. Small slip-ups, like the lack of a period tracker on the original Apple Watch, or fitness trackers too big for some women’s wrists, gesture to the fact that these technologies are built by male-dominated teams, for a male audience.

In Lean Out, one essay written by a Twitter-based “start-up dinosaur” (don’t ask) explains how dangerous it is to allow one small segment of society to built the future for the rest of us:

If you let someone else build tomorrow, tomorrow will belong to someone else. They will build a better tomorrow for everyone like them… For tomorrow to be for everyone, everyone needs to be the one [sic] that build it.

So where did all the women go? How did we get from a rash of female inventors to a situation where the major female presence at an Apple iPhone launch is a model’s face projected onto a screen and photoshopped into a smile by a male demonstrator? 

Photo: Apple.

The toxic culture of many tech workplaces could be a cause or an effect of the lack of women in the industry, but it certainly can’t make make it easy to stay. Behaviours range from the ignorant - Martha Lane-Fox, founder of, often asked “what happens if you get pregnant?” at investors' meetings - to the much more sinister. An essay in Lean Out by Katy Levinson details her experiences of sexual harassment while working in tech: 

I have had interviewers attempt to solicit sexual favors from me mid-interview and discuss in significant detail precisely what they would like to do. All of these things have happened either in Silicon Valley working in tech, in an educational institution to get me there, or in a technical internship.

Others featured in the book joined in with the low-level sexism and racism  of their male colleagues in order to "fit in" and deflect negative attention. Erica Joy writes that while working in IT at the University of Alaska as the only woman (and only black person) on her team, she laughed at colleagues' "terribly racist and sexist jokes" and "co-opted their negative attitudes”. 

The casual culture and allegedly meritocratic hierarchies of tech companies may actually be encouraging this discriminatory atmosphere. HR and the strict reporting procedures of large corporates at least give those suffering from discrimination a place to go. A casual office environment can discourage reporting or calling out prejudiced humour or remarks. Brook Shelley, a woman who transitioned while working in tech, notes: "No one wants to be the office mother". So instead, you join in and hope for the best. 

And, of course, there's no reason why people working in tech would have fewer issues with discrimination than those in other industries. A childhood spent as a "nerd" can also spawn its own brand of misogyny - Katherine Cross writes in Lean Out that “to many of these men [working in these fields] is all too easy to subconciously confound women who say ‘this is sexist’ with the young girls who said… ‘You’re gross and a creep and I’ll never date you'". During GamerGate, Anita Sarkeesian was often called a "prom queen" by trolls. 

When I spoke to Alexa Clay, entrepreneur and co-author of the Misfit Economy, she confirmed that there's a strange, low-lurking sexism in the start-up economy: “They have all very open and free, but underneath it there's still something really patriarchal.” Start-ups, after all, are a culture which celebrates risk-taking, something which women are societally discouraged from doing. As Clay says, 

“Men are allowed to fail in tech. You have these young guys who these old guys adopt and mentor. If his app doesn’t work, the mentor just shrugs it off. I would not be able ot get away with that, and I think women and minorities aren't allowed to take the same amount of risks, particularly in these communities. If you fail, no one's saying that's fine.

The conclusion of Lean Out, and of women in tech I have spoken to, isn’t that more women, over time, will enter these industries and seamlessly integrate – it’s that tech culture needs to change, or its lack of diversity will become even more severe. Shevinsky writes:

The reason why we don't have more women in tech is not because of a lack of STEM education. It's because too many high profile and influential individuals and subcultures within the tech industry have ignored or outright mistreated women applicants and employees. To be succinct—the problem isn't women, it's tech culture.

Software engineer Kate Heddleston has a wonderful and chilling metaphor about the way we treat women in STEM. Women are, she writes, the “canary in the coal mine”. If one dies, surely you should take that as a sign that the mine is uninhabitable – that there’s something toxic in the air. “Instead, the industry is looking at the canary, wondering why it can’t breathe, saying ‘Lean in, canary, lean in!’. When one canary dies they get a new one because getting more canaries is how you fix the lack of canaries, right? Except the problem is that there isn't enough oxygen in the coal mine, not that there are too few canaries.” We need more women in STEM, and, I’d argue, in tech in particular, but we need to make sure the air is breatheable first. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.