Leader: It is time for governments to stand up for the 99 per cent

Those who wish to avoid a repeat of the financial crash must respond to the cry for a fairer, more b

In March, Mervyn King, governor of the Bank of England, expressed surprise that people were not angrier about the causes and aftermath of the banking crisis. "Now is the period when the cost is being paid [of the bailouts]," he said. "I'm surprised the real anger hasn't been greater than it has." There are signs that the mood is turning. Inspired by the Occupy Wall Street movement in New York and demonstrations in other cities around the world, protesters have set up camp outside St Paul's Cathedral in London - the closest they could get to the Stock Exchange - where they intend to remain until Christmas and beyond.

London is one of 951 cities to witness protests in recent days. From Amsterdam to Athens, Berlin to Bogotá, Tokyo to Toronto, people have taken to the streets to protest against inequality and injustice. Leading the way are the disaffected young. The demos vary in size and character but they share a common root: a belief that the market is not working for the majority. For this reason, the new événements, unlike the anti-globalisation protests that shook Seattle and Genoa a decade ago, enjoy the sympathy of the political mainstream. The last wave of protests took place at a time of easy credit, cheap oil and low unemployment; the current wave accompanies the largest fall in living standards since the 1920s.

In nearly every developed country, the gap between rich and poor has yawned since the early 1980s as a result of the neoliberal policies - tax cuts for the wealthy, deregulation, privatisation - pursued by governments of both right and left. Britain is no longer a society in which the benefits of economic growth are widely distributed. The richest 10 per cent now receives 31 per cent of national income and owns almost half of the country's personal assets, while the poorest 10 per cent takes home just 1 per cent of the total income. The coalition government's decision to rely so heavily on spending cuts, rather than tax rises, to reduce the Budget deficit will inevitably widen the gap.

In the US, the situation is even worse. The richest 1 per cent of Americans received 23.5 per cent of national income in 2007, up from 10 per cent in 1980. Belatedly, the Obama administration has recognised a political opportunity, promising to ensure that "the interest of the 99 per cent of Americans is well represented". Even conservatives now recognise that the status quo is untenable. It was Alan Greenspan, the former head of the US Federal Reserve and disciple of the free-market guru Ayn Rand, who warned in 2005: "This is not the type of thing which a democratic society - a capitalist democratic society - can really accept without addressing."

For now, the priority in the UK and elsewhere is to use all means necessary to avert another global recession. Finance ministers looking for inspiration should read last week's New Statesman, in which nine of the world's leading economists suggested imaginative alternatives to ever-greater austerity. But once the immediate danger has passed, policymakers must dedicate themselves to developing an economic model that recouples growth and wages. As the protesters recognise, it was the decline in real wages that led to the crash as families borrowed to maintain their living standards. Since 2003, 11 million low- and middle-income earners have had no rise in their real incomes.

Tony Blair used to respond to questions about inequality by quipping that he didn't go into politics "to make sure that David Beckham earns less money". That was at a time of plenty. Today's politicians cannot afford to be so glib. Those who wish to avoid a repeat of the financial crash must respond to the cry for a fairer, more balanced society. The alternative is despair for the many, especially the young.

This article first appeared in the 24 October 2011 issue of the New Statesman, The art of lying

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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.