The maximum wage: Why it matters.

I have been moved to write this blog following some of the comments I have seen on Twitter and elsewhere following Jeremy Corbyn raising the prospect of a maximum wage and the Oxfam report on global inequality as some people seem to think that in a so called civilised society that vast inequality is somehow inevitable and even desirable and certainly not something that needs to be addressed.

In their ground-breaking book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better (Wilkinson and Pickett, 2009), the authors highlight the "pernicious effects that inequality has on societies: eroding trust, increasing anxiety and illness, (and) encouraging excessive consumption".

They, and other academics argue on the basis of strong evidence within and between countries, that health inequalities mirror income inequalities and that inequality is in itself a determinant of ill health. As a consequence some academics, such as Professor Danny Dorling, argue that we should be addressing maximum pay in private and public sectors and reducing the ratio between those on the lowest and highest pay. Such responses were recently mirrored by a suggestion by Jeremy Corbyn, leader of the Labour Party, that the UK should explore the possibility of introducing a maximum wage. The mere suggestion of this policy seemed to stimulate some to apoplectic rage as if entitlement to the wealth of Solomon was some sort of inalienable human right.

Since the early 1980s, economic inequality in the UK has grown astronomically. The richest 10 per cent of households now own 40 per cent of the UK’s wealth. This is 850 times the wealth of the bottom 10 per cent. If income distribution was the same as it was in 1977, the bottom fifth would get £2,000 a year more, the top fifth £8,000 less. Given this growth in economic inequality, it is perhaps unsurprising to see a similar growth in inequality in health outcomes. Although life expectancy is generally increasing in the UK, as it has done for the past 100 years, inequalities between the rich and poor is widening.

Analysis by The Equality Trust has found that in the last 20 years alone, the gap in life expectancy for those in different local authority areas has increased 41 per cent for men and 73 per cent for women. This most glaring of inequalities manifests itself in the most basic of inequalities i. e. that of living a long or short life. For instance male life expectancy in East Dorset is 8.9 years longer than those in Blackpool. The gap is just as dramatic for women where those in Purbeck live over 7 years longer than those in Manchester.

Even more alarming are the differences in healthy life expectancy (the number of years likely to be lived in good health) as these inequalities are even more marked. For instance there is now an 18 year difference between women living in Richmond (72 yrs) and those in Tower Hamlets (54 yrs): two communities that are only 15 miles away from each other.

These are just the inequalities in the UK I am sure that I don't need to do a detailed break down of   the inequalities that exist globally but suffice to say that the longest life expectancy in the world is Monaco on 89.52 years while the shortest is Sierra Leone at 50.1 years.  Inequality is killing us in droves and surely, as a species ingenious enough to put people on the moon, we can at least attempt to come up with a solution to this blight on the human race and not lambast those who raise the subject as "communists" that subscribe to the "politics of envy".

There is no more basic inequality than being alive or dead and if we are going to accept the frankly obscene inequality that sees eight  men being richer than the combined wealth of half the world then we must also accept that in doing so we are going to condemn vast swathes of humanity to unnecessary suffering, sickness and an early death. The choice is ours.

Saving the best bits of the curate’s egg? : The Legacy of Communities First

I feel compelled to write this blog after the semi surprise announcement last week by the minister Carl Sargeant that the Welsh Government’s flagship talking poverty programme Communities First (CF) is to be “rethought”.  At the time of writing what is actually meant by this term is far from clear and therein lies one of the problems to the community development / tackling poverty agenda in Wales. Although CF is fifteen years old, which in community regeneration project years is positively ancient, in recent years it has been beset by uncertainty as to it future and it has been a creaking gate of a programme which has not been conducive to its robustness.

During its fifteen years it has undergone various incarnations and at its most basic it moved from its original model and ethos of being a community led initiative that recognised the complexity of what community development means at a grass roots level to being, particularly in the past few years, a more traditional community focussed initiative pursuing distinct targets often under the direction of the local authority.

As someone who has been involved in CF in some shape or form since its inception I am of the opinion that not all these developments in the last few years of the initiative have been for the best.  The innovative approach of Communities First when it was first formulated is that it recognised that often it is the people who live in poor communities who have a unique insight into formulation solutions to the problems they face. As CF “evolved” however it increasingly moved from this innovative approach to one more dominated by local authorities and a traditional model dominated and led by professionals.  That said considering this change of focus CF has continued to deliver, at times, innovative and effective initiatives and projects that really made a difference to people’s lives in some of our poorest communities.

Particularly of late staff have had to work with a high degree of uncertainty in relation to the future and form of the CF programme.  In the past year all staff have been on a one year contract due to come to an end on the 31^st march 2017. This uncertainty is something that has dogged the programme since its inception. CF workers have become used to uncertainty as to the future of their contracts and last minute announcements as to the future and changes in the programme.  All these factors have not been conducive to the programme achieving its full potential.

Communities First has also had to endure being a favourite political football for the Welsh political class. The programme has always been a flagship project of Labour and as such and due to the budget directed toward it it has always been a prime focus of criticism from the Conservatives and to a lesser extent Plaid Cymru.  Interestingly though although CF has been a focus for this criticism from the opposing political parties they have neither offered or suggested any real innovative alternatives. 

No one can say that CF has been a runaway success.  Understandably as it has been trying to tackle poverty in some of the most disadvantaged areas of Western Europe that have had a very long history of trying to survive on the outer periphery  on the industrialised areas of the UK.  There have been various evaluations of the programme over the year some good some not so good but in the general consensus is that the programme is a bit of a curate’s egg, good in parts.

The recent announcement by the Welsh Minister as to the rethinking of the programme has led to some very poor reporting in the Welsh media (no surprise there then) and some less than informed statements from our elected representatives. In this report from BBC Wales http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-politics-37617559 the use of the word “dropped” gives the impression that all the work of the programme is to simply cease.  Rather than mention the many success of the programme the report chooses to focus on an instance of fraud in one CF area. The most glaring example of a misinformed analysis of the programme’s impact comes from Mark Isherwood the Welsh Conservative’s spokesman who argues that as the CF areas are still suffering poverty then obviously the programme is not “fit for purpose”   Considering the programme has spend approximately £30 Million a year for the whole of Wales it is a bit much to expect that that relatively small amount of funding can be expected to tackle the deep and most fundamental repercussions of global economic forces. Additionally that this statement was to come from a representative of the Conservative party who have been responsible for subjecting the area and local residents to negative forces that have compounded the areas poverty such as the bedroom tax and the so called benefit reforms which again has reduced the amount of money which is coming in to the area. So although the years of Coalition and Conservative party rule have not improved the levels of poverty in the area this spokesperson chooses to blame the CF programme.

So Communities First is to be no more, so be it, nothing lasts for ever.  As I said earlier while CF has achieved some really great things at the same time it has been a bit of a curate’s egg of a programme often because of factors that are beyond the control of those who work on, plan and instigate the programme. What is crucial as we move forward though is that the achievements are built on and not lost. During this upcoming period of consultation and reflection as put forward by the minister it is essential we identify what those achievements are.  To my mind one resource we should recognise is the CF workforce and infrastructure.  We have fifteen years development of a workforce who know their communities intimately and knows what works and what doesn’t.  Empowerment has been key word in the minister’s statement in relation to the future of Communities First I would suggest a powerful method of achieving that empowerment at community level is to use that resources of the CF workforce who know what empowerment really means. As a first step what that workforce needs to achieve those aims is some certainty and a clear plan over a significant period of time so they can make these plans a reality. This uncertainty has hamstrung the programme in the past and let us ensure that the same mistakes are not made in the future.

I remember the disaster at Aberfan as if it were yesterday.

From @sandycraigart

As we come up to the 50^th anniversary of that terrible, terrible tragedy I thought I would put down some of my own thoughts and recollections. I grew up very close to the village of Aberfan and over the years the memories of the events of that day have come back to me at times incredibly vividly and at times incredibly painfully.  To this day I am sometimes amazed of how those memories overwhelm me sometimes for no apparent reason even though it is now a long time ago. Recently somebody asked me about my experiences and although at first I was quite happy to talk about it I quickly found it brought me close to tears.

The disaster happened on Friday 21st October 1966.  I remember it was the last Friday before the half term holidays.  I was nine years old, the same age as most of the children who were to die. I was at school that day at Caedraw about three miles away from the Pantglas school where the vast majority of the deaths were to occur. At the time I was doing a school meteorology project and I was studiously keeping a diary of the daily weather. As is often the case in The Valleys in late October we had had days and days of continual monochrome rain which was making my diary quite boring and repetitive and it was that rain that was to cause the flood of misery. The morning of the disaster was bitterly cold and misty, as a portent as to what was to follow the morning mist clung to the sides of the valleys as a shroud clings  to the furrows of the body of a corpse.

The disaster happened early in the morning just after morning prayers. In those days all schools used to have an assembly followed by prayers so it was the same for us in Caedraw as it would have been for the kids in Pantglas. I was sat at my desk near the window and I vividly remember the news hitting the town of Merthyr as if it were yesterday.  It was as if you could palpably feel the impact of the news on the town and the community. Although at that time we didn’t know what had happened we knew something had happened.  You could hear sirens going off all over the town and ambulance, fire and police all racing down the valley. In those days, before most people had telephones, there used to be an air raid type siren that was used to summon the reserve firemen. The ringing of ambulance, police and fire bells together with the drone of that air raid type fire siren is an enduring memory of mine of that fateful morning

By the time morning playtime came teachers were running about obviously agitated and we were beginning to hear that something had happened in Aberfan.  The first thing we heard was that a wall had fallen down at the school on top of some kids. It didn’t take much longer for us to hear what had happened but still at this time the extent of the disaster and the loss of life was beyond us.

For those of you who didn’t know South Wales at this time it is hard to explain how much coal tips were part of our everyday existence. They were everywhere, by the sides of schools, by the sides of churches.  They dominated the local landscape and in no way were they seen as a danger. As I had grown up in the area I thought everywhere had tips like we did.  As children tips were where we used to play, ride our bikes over them like scramblers or one of my favourite games was to slide down them on an old piece of lino or oil cloth as we used to call it at the time. Tips were such a ubiquitous part of our everyday being I reckon I was about 13 before I realised they were not part of the natural environment.

Miners helping with the rescue with the tips of Aberfan in the background

By the end of school we were very much aware that something very serious had happened in Aberfan but still the full extent of the loss of life was not clear, but at nine years old grasping the true extent of such horrors is not easy.  In those heady days when fear of everything did not stalk every corner of parenthood as it seems to do today as a nine year old I was allowed to walk the mile or so from school to my home crossing a number of busy roads unaccompanied. On my way home the roads were already filling with traffic going down to Aberfan as people sought to help in any way they could. When I got home my father had set off on foot to see if he could help, lots of people did the same that day. Miners walked over the mountain from Penrhiwceiber  to try to help as did the miners from the nearby Merthyr Vale colliery but all to no avail as nobody was pulled out alive after  11.00 just two hours after tip had engulfed the school. As a matter of fact one of the last people to be pulled out alive was Jeff Edwards who was later to become a friend of mine and mayor of Merthyr.

Jeff being rescued

That night I went out to play with my mates as usual and I remember the roads of Merthyr being completely blocked as people tried to get to the village. There was a strange sense of desperation in the air as everybody wanted to help but there was no way they could.  In the mid 1960s cars were not as plentiful as they are today so to see such a huge traffic jam, particularly in Merthyr, was unheard of.  When I got home my father had retuned and although he had been unable to help as there had already been too many people there already he was obviously shaken and very subdued.

It was the aftermath of the disaster which was I think to give me personally the biggest trauma and was to show the British Establishment at its very worse.  The way the people of Aberfan were treated disgusted me then as a nine year old and still does to this day.  Our so called wonderful Queen took eight days before she decided she could be bothered to visit, which left a lasting resentment among many local people to the institution of the monarchy. Almost straight away the National Coal Board tried to wriggle out of their responsibility for causing the disaster and would eventually only pay £500 compensation for the death of each child. Those whose houses were destroyed in the disaster were rehoused in caravans through the cold, cold winter and where they were left to suffer their grief at losing homes and loved ones. £150,000 from the disaster fund, which was donated by mainly working people from all over the world, was used by the NCB to remove the remains of the coal tip and the rest of the mess left by the disaster this money was finally repaid in 1997 but did not take in to account the full interest and inflation rates and many feel £1.5 Million should have been repaid this was finally repaid in 2007 by the Welsh Government.  

Just take some time to think about all of this for one minute.  Think about how much wealth the coal mines of South Wales provided for this country.  How that coal was used to build the worldwide industry and empire that The Queen and her ancestors lorded it over and in thanks for that they were told that their children’s lives were worth £500 and if you lost your home as well just get in a shed and get on with it, that’s good enough for you. The people of Wales, the UK and the rest of the world showed great compassion, solidarity and generosity to the people of Aberfan with donations, gifts and messages of support flowing in from all over the world. In contrast the British Establishment in the form of The Government, The National Coal Board and the Monarchy closed ranks to ensure that as little damage as possible was inflicted on their interests in spite of the fact of the great debt that they owed to the mining communities of South Wales. At the very least the Queen should have let the survivors live in Buckingham Palace and the National Coal Board should have given them free coal to heat it.  It was to be less than twenty years later that these same mining communities were to be deemed the “enemy within” by another Establishment figure who viewed the mining  communities of South Wales with distain.

 I sometimes think if just one percent of the wealth the was produced by the communities of South Wales that supported the development of the British Empire came back into the Valleys we wouldn’t have suffered the misery of events like Aberfan the continuing poverty and the ongoing exclusion and poverty that continues to blight this area to this day. It has been interesting in the recent reporting of the anniversary of Aberfan that it has become evident that not many younger people know of the story. Obviously it is not something taught in schools.  I believe it is possible to learn great lessons from history particularly about what a nation holds dear and what its real values are, therein lies the reason that our young people are not told the true story of Aberfan.

Cofiwch Aberfan

I say, I say, I say,when is a Trotskyite not a Trotskyite? When they are an ordinary Labour party supporter.

Following on from my blog last Friday this week I have heard the word Trotskyite all over the news and social media. Supposedly educated people have been using it as shorthand for the worst bogeyman of rampant left wing supporters of Corbyn determined to take the party and country in to oblivion.  On last night’s Channel 4 news Michael Crick and Cathy Newman were goading Corbyn supporters to say on air that they were real life “trots”, which to be honest was somewhat reminiscent of McCarthyite era witch hunts.  All this is part of the overall poor quality of debate that there is around the Labour party leadership hustings.  People on both sides are lazily entrenching themselves in over simplistic caricatures of those they disagree with and what should be lively and enriching political debate is descending in to smears and personal attacks.

 

Let us look at this term Trotskyite. What does it mean? Surely you don’t need a Ph.D in philosophy to understand that the word denotes someone who follows the ideas of Leon Trotsky  (1879 – 1940).  Now I won’t bore you here with an online treatise  as to the ideas of this important and influential political philosopher (who just for the record I don’t agree with but I am interested in what he had to say). However, at their most basic Trotsky believed in a one party state and the need for the global spread of communism.  Now putting it as simply as that is that what all these people who are being called “Trots” believe in? Are all those people who are attending public rallies which Owen Smith sought to characterise as “Momentum” rallies, do you think that is what they want to see in this country?

 

This is the man himself Trotsky whose name is often taken in vain

To return to the rally I attended in Swansea last week, which was the subject of my last blog.  Now I have been active in community and grass roots political organising in the South Wales area since the early 1970s.  During that time I have worked alongside anarchists, evangelical Christians, socialists, Labour party members, Catholics, Jews, Communists, Liberal Democrats and many many others of various other political and philosophical persuasions (Can’t honestly think of many Tories though, but there have been a few) I might not have agreed with their religious or political persuasion but they were good people who wanted to see an improvement in society and to be honest that is good enough for me.  When I attended the rally last Friday I knew many in the room and had known them for many years.  They were teachers, social workers, nurses, the unemployed, community development workers, the sick, office workers, steel workers, miners and business people. Over the years some of them might have been in various political or religious groupings as by the very fact they were at this rally they were proclaiming the were people who believed in something, whatever that might be.  I’ll tell you what they weren’t though, and that is “Trotskyite” and to characterise them as such is quite simply wrong.

Just WTF Corbynistas and Trots ???

Right I haven't blogged for a while as to be honest couldn't think of anything I particularly wanted to blog about but recent events have been winding me up a tad and there are a few things I would like to get off my chest.  As we all know the post #Brexit referendum fallout has precipitated a leadership election in the Labour party as indeed it did in the Tory Party before.  While the Tories managed to achieve this somewhat bloodlessly Labour seem intent on tearing themselves to pieces over it to the extent that it looks like it is becoming an existential threat.

As part of this leadership election process the respective candidates Owen Smith and Jeremy Corbyn have been taking part in debates, meetings and rallies as part of the hustings process.  All very well and good. If we must have a leadership election, which by the way I don't think that we should, then these are the sort of events the candidates should be having.

Last Friday Jeremy Corbyn organised events in Merthyr Tydfil and Swansea the town of my birth and where I still have lots of family and friends and the city where I currently reside. From my contacts on social media I could see that the Merthyr event had gone well with a carnival celebratory atmosphere.  With that information in mind I looked forward to attending the evening event in Swansea.

I was not disappointed. There was an excellent turnout and a great feeling to the event. Lots of old friends and comrades were there such as Phil White, Tyrone O'Sullivan and @llanelliriots so it was great to catch up with some really good people who for years gave been grassroots activists in the area. Both Tyrone and Jeremy Corbyn spoke at the event.  Both are leaders in their own way but they both talked about that this election and socialism in general is not about leaders but it is about mutualism and establishing a grassroots movement that takes everybody in the community along with it.

My mate Tyrone :-)

Unsurprisingly for such an event a number of us who were attending stared to Tweet and post on social media as to what a positive experience it was. Oh if we did !! As soon as our tweets and other postings went out they started to climb out of the social media woodwork. The doubters, the naysayers and the downright nasty and offensive, who mostly hide behind anonymous twitter accounts.  They had comments like "they are all just a bunch of commies and Trots" or they are a "cult" following their "great leader". At the very least they were saying "we had rallies like this with Michelle Foot in the 1980s and that didn't bring us electoral success."

 Now I am long enough in the tooth and thick skinned enough to expect such sneering from Tory supporters or those not sympathetic to Labour but many of these detractors claimed to be Labour??!! This is what was quite simply beyond me.  It was a good event where like minded people were able to come together and share ideas.  I heard some very good discussions going on on the night and it was great to have the opportunity to take part. I'm not saying that such events in themselves are going to win the general election for Labour and anyone that does is simply deluded but what planet of negativity are people on who simply decry such events and mock and deride those who attend? Anyway, it was not a general election focused event it was a Labour leadership event primarily aimed at those who are already Labour supporters.

If you ask me socialism is about, mutuality, fraternity and solidarity, it is about realising that the greatest strength of the human race is its ability to act as a society not just as a collection of individuals pursing their own interests. If people feel there is no value to us all coming together and sharing ideas and thoughts then I am sorry but in my eyes they are not socialists.

Sono Italiano? (I’m Italian?)

You need to have read the blog before this where I set the scene of the Italian community in South Wales. I am now going to recount the role they have played in shaping my life.  Due to my own Irish ethnic heritage I went to the local Catholic school with many of the children of these Italian families and for some strange reason, that I really don’t understand to this day, many of my best school friends were from the Italian community. Another friend of mine, who was also a contemporary, @FarSouthProject  has suggested that they brought a touch of Mediterranean colour to an otherwise monochrome  valley’s life in the drab  1970s.  Not too sure about that myself and I don’t think it was something I consciously thought about much. The Italians were sort of cool in school in as much as they all smoked and also, particularly as I hit my teens the dusky attractiveness of the Italian women did not escape my notice but they were part of the everyday landscape  and I had grown up with them so in many ways I didn’t see them in anyway as "foreign", they were just my mates Fausto, Luigi or Mario.

Looking back on our lives sometimes I think we impose an order to try and make sense of it as some sort of coherent story when in fact the reality is a much more cluttered mess of serendipity and happenchance.  While reflecting on my own history I identify one particular pivotal moment when I was about 16 which I don’t know if it is a construction of my own need to make this order but is central to this narrative I have constructed of my life. I can remember the event as clearly as if it were yesterday when one of my Italian friends said to me in the playground of our school” What are you doing over the summer holidays?”    I was on the verge of leaving school and replied I didn’t have any particular plans just probably bum about.   He suggested that we make our way across Europe and go and work on his grandmother’s farm in Italy. I had never been abroad before or much out of South Wales and I could just as easily have said no but I said yes and embarked on this journey to Italy with two of my Italian friends.

Bardi Castle

As recounted in  my previous blog the place that I traveled to was Bardi high up in the mountains of the Italian hinterland and many an adventure was had along the way but that may be in another blog.That trip was an education to me, I had never really drank wine or even coffee before and by the time I returned I was prodigious consumer of both.  More than that I did fall in love with Italy on that trip, not just the countryside or the people but the culture, the way of life, a different way of doing things and perspective that very much appealed to me and also it showed me that my friends were in fact “foreign” as they had access to this other world.

To bring this story to some sort of conclusion, (although I hope I have a few more years left in me yet)  I continued to visit Italy with my Italian friends in following years and unsurprisingly I was eventually lucky enough to marry a girl from one of these Italian families as well and we had our honeymoon in Bardi.  I continue my love affair with Italy and I can’t see it ending anytime soon.  My children have Italian names and I have ravioli and pannettone rather than turkey and  pudding for my Christmas dinner.

The French social theorist Pierre Bourdieu uses the concept of bricolage, which is the French word for DIY, to explain how he feels people don’t only just have culture thrust on them but rather construct it themselves from what they have around them.  I think that is what I have done with my relationship with Italy and Italians, OK I'm not Italian by birth but I have happily taken on aspects of those Welsh Italians that I grew up with and made it my own and long may it continue.

  

The Italians of South Wales or the Italians in the Rain

First of all with this blog let me thank all those people who have encouraged me with my blogging, you know who you are.  I don’t think I am a natural blogger, I only started it because some of my Twitter followers suggested it and I never cease to be amazed that people read my inane rantings but I am more than thankful that you do.

One barrier that I encounter in relation to blogging is finding a topic that I think people will be interested in and that is the case with the topic for this blog, but on reviewing my past blog I did notice that I had promised to recount my ongoing relationship with Italy.  This together with @edanaming who comes from an Italian family herself asking me about it has finally prompted me to commit my experiences to print. As my relationship with Italy covers some 40 years I have a lot to say I’ll split this blog in to two so not as to bore you too much, first I will tell you about the Welsh Italians and then I will tell you about my relationship with them.

You don’t need to have followed me for long on Twitter or read many of my blogs to know that I am a product of the South Wales Valleys. Now you may or may not know anything about the South Wales valleys or the people who live in them but you may be surprised that we are a pretty varied bunch. Prior to the industrial revolution the valleys of South Wales were one of the most sparsely populated areas of the United Kingdom so when coal mining and iron production developed in the area people had to move in to work those industries.  While some moved in from elsewhere in Wales, particularly the rural, agricultural West, others moved from further afield.  

My own surname is testament to the Irish contingent of this immigration but growing up in the valleys in 60s and 70s I was surrounded by immigrant families with their roots in Poland, Spain and of course Italy.  The Italians were an integral of any valley community at the time as illustrated by the character Bella Lasagne in Fire Man Sam. 

Every valleys community had their Italian café serving frothy coffee (cappuccino type concoctions made with Nescafe instant coffee), steamed pies (a strange South Wales delicacy),”singles” (cigarettes sold individually for the cash strapped) and of course that Italian staple, ice cream.

If you are interested in reading further about the Welsh Italians there is a good book out on the subject called “Lime, Lemon and Sarsaparilla” http://amzn.to/1LzIKad .

Another interesting fact that you probably don’t know about the Welsh Italian community is that the vast majority are from in and around one town Bardi in the Emilia-Romagna region of Northern Italy.  Over the years I have visited Bardi many times and it is an amazing place, a valleys town itself located in deepest rural Italy and where on market day on a Thursday in the main piazza you will hear Italian being spoken with a distinctive South Wales accent and where when I meet people there and I tell them I am from Merthyr the first thing they will say is “So you know the Viazzanis and the Fulgonis” which of course I do.

Another useful link if you want to know more about the Welsh Italians is The Amici Val Ceno http://bit.ly/1LkTVpc

Anyway, I digress, to be continued ….