Not just part of the furniture

New York

You know how it feels - you're stuck in a city centre with an email to send and you can't get online. You start to panic. The feeling of being cut off from friends, colleagues and important tasks begins to nag at you. You scrape together money you can't afford for coffee you don't want, on the off chance that the drinks stand has wifi.

At the South by South-West music, film and technology convention in Austin, Texas, a man named Clarence has a solution to your problem. Video and photo footage shows him standing outside the conference centre, begging delegates with a hopeful smile to use him to fire up their smartphones. He wears a portable wifi connection and a T-shirt that says "I am a wireless hotspot". Clarence has been homeless since Hurricane Katrina destroyed his house in New Orleans.

Turning homeless people into wireless hotspots gives an entirely new meaning to the phrase "get connected". A little digging reveals that the idea of turning destitute men and women into living wifi hotspots was engineered by a New York PR firm for maximum press attention, but, publicity stunt or no, the spectacle of real homeless people serving the iPad-toting privileged got half the developed world talking.

The frightening thing is that once you push through the initial shock of seeing human beings marketed as glorified plug sockets, the idea makes an ugly sort of sense. What, apart from the piffling matter of a daily wage and a place to live, makes these homeless people, who were paid the grand sum of $20 (£12.70) a day, any different from those working inside the convention centre? Guests at the event reported men wandering around festooned with USB sockets for charging various devices, as well as the standard "booth babes" in knickers and latex paid to pose for pictures with heavy-breathing delegates.

Router 101
The rationale goes something like this: low-paid work is dehumanising anyway, so, as this is an age of austerity, why not objectify people just a little bit more and pay them a little bit less? If it creates jobs, why not round up all the unfortunates from the park benches and embankments and introduce them to fulfilling lives as wireless hotspots, coat stands and occasional tables?

The outcry over the idea of homeless people being fitted out to provide wireless connectivity, even as a publicity stunt, prompted a few liberals to ask themselves quite why a notionally charitable effort should produce such revulsion. The answer is that it's creepy in the way that it would be creepy to be introduced to a shaved and waxed chimpanzee in a business suit and told, "This is Clive from Accounts." It's got all the right bits, but a crucial element of humanity is missing.

What is missing is revulsion at the idea of homeless people becoming literally part of the furniture. The stunt is a ghoulish pastiche of the notion of the internet as a great social leveller. We live in an age of dazzling innovation and desperate inequality and yes, we probably do need to make better connections - but paying the homeless poverty wages to stand around while the rest of us check our Facebook is a terrible place to start.

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

This article first appeared in the 19 March 2012 issue of the New Statesman, The end of socialism

Photo: Dan Kitwood/Getty Images
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Conservative disunity is not all good news for Labour

The Tory leadership election could squeeze Labour out of the conversation, just like Blair and Brown did to the Tories.

The first test of opposition politics is relevance. Other key yardsticks - political plausibility, economic credibility, setting the agenda and developing a governing vision - all matter greatly. But making yourself a central part of the relentless cycle of daily politics, the terms of which are generally set by the governing party, is the first hurdle. It matters not whether you sign up to new politics or old: be relevant or wither. 

The issue of relevance is becoming a pressing issue for Labour. Take George Osborne’s favoured issue of the so-called national living wage.  Leave to one side the rights, wrongs and nuances of the policy and just consider the basic political dynamic it creates.  Osborne has, quite deliberately, set up a rolling five year argument over a steadily rising wage floor. On one side, is the Chancellor arguing that his policy is the right thing for Britain’s ranks of low paid workers. Pitted against him are ranks of chief executives of low-paying big business. With each impending hike they will holler at Osborne to go no further and the media will happily amplify the row. In response the Chancellor will quietly smile.

Sure, on occasions this will be uncomfortable stance for Mr Osborne (and if the economy takes a downward turn then his pledge will become incredible; there are always big risks with bold strokes).  Yet the dominant argument between the Conservatives and big business leaves Labour largely voiceless on an issue which for generations it has viewed as its own.

We may well see a similar dynamic in relation to the new national infrastructure commission – another idea that Osborne has plundered form Labour’s 2015 manifesto. It’s far too early to say what will come of its work looking at proposals for major new transport and energy projects (though those asserting it will just be a talking shop would do well not to under-estimate Andrew Adonis, its first Chair). But there is one thing we can already be confident about: the waves of argument it will generate between Osborne’s activist commissioners and various voices of conservatism. Every big infrastructure proposal will have noisy opponents, many residing on the right of British politics. On the issue of the future of the nation’s infrastructure – another touchstone theme for Labour – the opposition may struggle to get heard amid the din.

Or take the different and, for the government, highly exposing issue of cuts to tax credits. Here the emerging shape of the debate is between Osborne on one side and the Sun, Boris Johnson, various independent minded Conservative voices and economic think-tanks on the other. Labour will, of course, repeatedly and passionately condemn these cuts. But so have plenty of others and, for now at least, they are more colourful or credible (or both).  

The risk for the opposition is that a new rhythm of politics is established. Where the ideological undercurrent of the government steers it too far right, other voices not least those within the Conservative family - moderates and free-spirits emboldened by Labour’s current weakness; those with an eye on the forthcoming Tory leadership contest – get reported.  Where Osborne consciously decides to tack to the centre, the resulting rows will be between him and the generally Conservative supporting interests he upsets. Meanwhile, Labour is left struggling for air.

None of which is to say there are no paths back to relevance. There are all sorts of charges against the current government that, on the right issues, could be deployed - incompetence, complacency, inequity – by an effective opposition.  Nor is the elixir of relevance for a new opposition hard to divine: a distinct but plausible critique, forensic and timely research, and a credible and clear voice to deliver the message. But as yet we haven’t heard much of it.

Even in the best of times being in opposition is an enervating existence. Those out of power rarely get to set the terms of trade, even if they often like to tell themselves they can. Under Ed Miliband Labour had to strain – sometimes taking big risks - to establish its relevance in a novel era defined by the shifting dynamics of coalition politics. This time around Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour is up against a Chancellor willing to take risks and pick big fights: often with traditional Tory foes such as welfare claimants; but sometimes with people on his own side.  It’s also a new and challenging context. And one which Labour urgently needs to come to terms with.   

Gavin Kelly is chief executive of the Resolution Foundation