Should Liz Truss forgo her entitlement to the £ 115,000 lifetime annual allowance amidst the cost-of-living crisis?

On 20 October 2022, Liz Truss resigned as Prime Minister (PM) of the UK after 44 days. Although some bet on how long she would last, her resignation raised various debates, including her eligibility for a lifetime allowance of up to £115,000. By demystifying the annual allowance scheme and evaluating the merits and demerits of Truss’ claim, I consider whether Truss should forgo this allowance. We are in a cost-of-living crisis, and Truss’ performance as PM has only imposed further burdens on ordinary people.

What is the £ 115,000 lifetime annual allowance?

After her resignation, claims began swirling that Truss would be getting a ‘salary’ or a ‘pension’ of £115,000 despite her length in office. Before answering this post’s question, I must clarify the annual allowance scheme. The Public Duty Costs Allowance (PDCA) was established “to assist former Prime Ministers still active in public life…to meet the actual cost of continuing to fulfil public duties.” It covers costs including Met Police surveillance, charitable work, and diary and social media management.

This is neither a salary nor a pension. It is also not for personal expenses, but rather compensation for incurred office and secretarial expenses during continued public duties.

Reasons why Truss should claim the £115,000 allowance

(1) She is entitled to it

The only eligibility requirement for the PDCA is that the recipient must be a former PM who is not currently the Leader of the Opposition. There is no length of service requirement; therefore, Truss squarely fulfils this condition. Furthermore, most former PMs claim close to the total amount annually. In 2020-21, Sir John Major and Tony Blair claimed £115,000, and Gordon Brown and David Cameron claimed more than £110,000.

(2) It is a reasonable amount

The PDCA government guidance explains that the allowance has, since 2011, remained at £115,000 and is in line with staffing allowances provided for the offices of Members of Parliament (MPs). Moreover, the amount is reviewed if the recipient takes on any public roles and is audited by the Cabinet Office Finance or the National Audit Office. Therefore, the allowance is reasonable as it is unlikely to be squandered or used for personal benefits, as all necessary documents and invoices must be evidenced.

If we look more broadly, £115,000 is on par with some of the highest salaries in the UK. An organisation’s Chief Executive Officer is paid, on average, £121,434, making this the highest average salary in the UK in 2022. Given a PM’s demanding duties, substantial compensation is reasonable, especially if they continue public duties post-service.

Reasons why Truss should not claim the £115,000 allowance

(1) She does not deserve it

The main argument against Truss is that she does not deserve the allowance due to her short time as PM, characterised by failed fiscal policies and economic turmoil, evident in the British pound plummeting below the US dollar for the first time in 37 years after her government’s mini-budget. Sir Ed Davey, Leader of the Liberal Democrats, made a powerful statement urging Truss to deny the allowance. He stated, “I think working 45 days shouldn’t give you a pension that is many many times what ordinary people out there get after a lifetime of work”. Similarly, the Liberal Democrat Treasury spokesperson, Christine Jardine, commented, “she should [not] be permitted to access the same £115,000 a year for life fund as her recent predecessors — all of whom served for well over two years”. She furthered that this allowance would leave “a bitter taste in the mouth” of those struggling to pay their bills and mortgages due to Truss’ government’s fiscal failures.

Although the PDCA is not a pension or a salary, the essence of these statements is profound. In the minds of the British people, Truss has failed her political promises and caused too much damage in such a short time; she does not deserve a lifetime allowance. I contest that although the failed mini-budget initiated severe economic upheaval, the ‘bitter taste’ is exacerbated more by the cost-of-living crisis and Truss’s failure to adequately alleviate its effects on the average citizen. This notion will be explored further in the second reason why Truss should not claim the allowance.

(2) Cost-of-living crisis

The above quotation represents a sample of the flurry created across social media platforms after Truss’ resignation. For this reason, I argue that the knowledge that Truss is entitled to a lifetime allowance after being in office for less than two months is the cause of the ‘bitter taste’ in the mouths of British people.

People are currently unable to pay their mortgages and utilities and are skipping meals. Unite Students, the largest student accommodation provider, surveyed undergraduate students and parents, highlighting that 73% of parents and 66% of students are “extremely worried” about rising living costs. Moreover, 29% of students admit to hiding debts from family and friends.

If Truss claims the allowance because she is entitled to it, it could be regarded as a personal affront considering that her policies caused a significant economic downturn in the current climate of the cost-of-living crisis and increased taxation.

Concluding Remarks

Indisputably, Truss is entitled to the £115,000 annual allowance. However, she severely mishandled the economy in a short time, which caused severe repercussions even after her resignation. She has further reduced citizens’ ‘volitional freedom’—the limited economic power that individuals have in market societies, according to Robert Lee Hale; through higher bills and increasing debts, for example, mortgages. On 20 October 2020, the annual interest rate was 2.25%, surging to 6.65% post-resignation, resulting in British families paying over £530 extra on their monthly mortgage repayments. It is, therefore, substantively and morally unacceptable for Truss to benefit from this allowance, considering the costs she has imposed on citizens during an already difficult cost-of-living crisis and looming recession.

Nevertheless, this scenario raises questions, such as whether PM lifetime allowances should exist, or whether a length-in-office requirement should be imposed. The scheme is due for review next year since 2011—should it be increased due to inflation? In the event of another record-breaking PM, this review is an excellent opportunity for reform.

Author: Anaya Price

The Criminal Case Backlog – A Crisis Waiting To Happen

By Matt Richardson and Charlie Bevis

Image Credit: Tribune

Coronavirus has been inflicted upon a Criminal Justice System that was already strained by a sizeable backlog of cases and years of underinvestment, overseen by a Ministry that has suffered the deepest spending cuts of any government department since 2010.

As court doors closed, Plexiglass screens went up, and video links were circulated, the time taken to conclude a case in the Crown and magistrates’ courts respectively increased by 20% and 25% compared to July-September 2019. Following the courts’ prolonged operation at lower capacity, the latest figures from November 2020 reflect a total backlog of 457,518 cases. Of these cases, 53,950 are awaiting trial at Crown Courts, reserved for the most serious criminal offences. This backlog alone has soared by 44% from February 2020, rising 19% from the previous quarter”

Whilst the extent and depth of this backlog is “unprecedented and very serious”, it is not surprising. It is emblematic of a system that has been financially neglected by successive governments, leaving problems “baked” into “crumbling” structures. Chronic underfunding created a “combustible problem”, the ignition of which was foreseeable, even if the virus was not.

At a societal level, this begins to tear at the seams of the rule of law. On a more personal level, this materially impacts the lives millions of British people, with victims, families, and the accused all thrown into purgatoric limbo as the pandemic is (mis)managed from Whitehall.  

Nor is this backlog separable from the broader decline of the Criminal Justice System caused by the UK’s austerity cost-cutting. The 2019/20 Justice budget was “25% lower” than in 2010/11, whilst the number of full-time Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) workers decreased from 8,094 in 2010/11 to 5,684 in 2018/19. The Criminal Bar Association claims that junior judges are effectively operating on “zero-hour contracts”.

Furthermore, between 2010 and 2020, 164 out of 320 magistrates’ courts were sold off. This represents a 51% reduction in the number of courts that deal with lower-level crimes and has disproportionately impacted the most vulnerable and disadvantaged court users. Although this aimed to raise funds to enable the transition to digital court services, the Law Society has expressed concerns about the evidence surrounding the effectiveness of this move. Ironically, there is now a scramble to set up “Nightingale courts” as a result of the reduction in system capacity.

These few examples reflect a system squeezed beyond its operational limits, compounded by an expansion of police funding that is likely to increase court work loads, upticks in certain types of crime due to Covid-related unemployment, and the systemic inefficiencies that prevent “effective rehabilitation”. The coalescence of these issues augments the strain on the criminal courts, threatening the adequate provision of justice.

In response to this pressure, the government has invested an additional £142 million to modernise courtrooms, established 23 ‘Nightingale Courts’, introduced virtual case hearings where possible, installed protective screens to support safe use of existing courts, and employed 1,600 more members of staff to help implement the measures.

Whilst Law Society president, Simon Davis, “welcomed” the investment, he noted this funding only represented a small initial step in the wider scheme of necessary justice finance.

Similarly, despite the capacity benefits of Nightingale courts, this is very much “like taking a bucket to a house fire” given the extent of the backlog. Meanwhile, the “obvious geographic shortfalls” and “prohibitively expensive” process of adding docks and cells for criminal trials have all constrained the role of these temporary courts.  

Furthermore, there are profound concerns about the quality of justice administered. Indeed, the “impersonal” nature of virtual hearings, the “loss of non-verbal communication”, and the negative repercussions on the effectiveness of defence arguments all undermine the standards of due judicial process. Senior judges have condemned these measures as “inadequate”, whilst the Chair of the Bar, Amanda Pinto QC, re-asserted the “vital” nature of independent judicial decision-making, free from external pressures.   

Crest – an independent justice consultancy – critiques the relative successes of expanding capacity, increasing court staff, and extending court hours in light of the court system’s interdependence on other bodies within the Criminal Justice System. Its report finds that even if court capacity is “doubled and equilibrium is achieved”, the prison population would increase by “34% by 2024”. Prisons are already overfilled and underfunded, and moving the current crisis further “downstream” merely perpetuates the systemic issues responsible for poor living conditions and ineffectual rehabilitation. This is a system in need of holistic, institutional reform, not more piecemeal emergency measures.

Whilst this does not encapsulate the entirety of the government’s response, it does paint an accurate picture of the current crisis of justice. At the heart of this crisis are ordinary people.

The legal maxim ‘justice delayed is justice denied’ has perhaps never been more apt.

Time has a potent effect on witness memory, with recollection of events that may have occurred months or years in the past fading as cases are delayed. For victims this can have a disenfranchising effect as some “[lose] faith in the process”, creating the concerning situation where “thousands” could “fall through the gaps”.

For those who proceed with prosecutions, the sense of closure that conclusive judicial reasoning can afford now eludes them. In an open letter, a survivor of domestic abuse describes that the all-consuming nature of her abuse has left her “desperate to move on” but “utterly powerless” to do so, as her case has been postponed from Spring 2020 and will not be heard until 2022.

Within prisons, the situation for those awaiting trial is arguably more severe. A mere 21% found it “easy to access education”, whilst only 48% said their education packs were “useful”. Youth education has been inconsistent. General rehabilitation activities have been rolled back by more than “60%” compared to pre-Covid levels. Poor access to “open space, exercise, and human contact” has led to reported increases in anxiety and physical and mental health issues.

These conditions have been legitimised by the extended custody policy, meaning that detainees can be remanded in custody whilst their cases are determined for 56 additional days – lengthening the maximum period from six to eight months – to help address the backlog. As lawyers and former judges have noted, “defendants can do the sums”. There is the real possibility that innocent individuals will plead guilty if they are likely to receive sentences shorter than the time they would otherwise spend under remand.

In an under-prioritised, underfunded, and undervalued system, the onset of Coronavirus has predictably exposed the fissures in British justice, widening the cracks to extremity. At times of crisis, the dilution and fragmentation of justice serves to perpetuate crisis, jeopardising the virtues of civil society. Reform is not advisable; it is imperative. It is possible but must be radical. The longer this status quo endures, the more deeply constituted these issues become, intensifying the pain inflicted upon all individuals involved, while weakening cumulative trust in an institution that sits at the heart of contemporary British democracy.

This blog material was originally written for and published on Tribune Magazine’s website. To see the original version visit: Tribune

Talk of The Town: The Royal ‘Firm’

By Lily Sheridan-Power

Image Credit: BBC

Earlier this month, 17 million viewers tuned into Oprah Winfrey’s interview with Meghan Markle and Prince Harry, making it one of the most-viewed non-sports event this year. Despite not being an avid follower of the royals, I found myself glued to the screen. The highly anticipated interview included several revelations about the couple and their reasoning behind abdicating their royal titles.

In the first quarter of 2020, Meghan Markle and Prince Harry decided to “step back” from their roles as senior royals. “I took matters into my own hands,” Harry said, declaring his mindset at the time as “desperate”. The couple’s original intention was to emigrate and continue their royal duties in a reduced capacity. This did not go to plan. Today, the couple lives in Santa Barbara, California. They have been financially cut off from the royal family, and no longer receive security protection.

During the interview, the couple detailed their fraught relationship with the British monarchy and hostile treatment by the tabloid press.  When asked if the couple reduced their involvement because of the barrage of racist press, Harry replied: “It was a large part of it.” He stated that “nobody from [his] family ever said anything” in support of his wife as she endured severe media scrutiny. Instead, the family tried to compare their own experiences with the British media to hers.  But their treatment by the media was incomparable.

Whereas Kate Middleton, Prince William’s wife, was named “Waity Kaity” by the press due to the length of time she waited for a marriage proposal, Markle was accused of “fuelling human rights abuses, drought and murder” for eating avocado on toast. The Daily Mail stated:

“The campaigning duchess may be passionate when it comes to racial equality and female empowerment, but for someone who wants to save the planet, she’s committed something of a faux pas with avocados”.

A study conducted by the Guardian found that Meghan got 43% negative headlines, while Kate only got 8% negative. The difference in treatment derives from the vindictiveness of the British press towards Black women. Additionally, there are disparities in how the royal press office defended Kate over Meghan. The palace did not go on the record to correct a damaging story involving Markle unless the story also had the potential to tarnish the monarchy’s reputation. Once again, the contrast reeks of misogynoir.

The rejection of Markle by the royal establishment and its public supporters points to the larger issue of structural racism in the British monarchy, both contemporarily and historically. Harry noted that the press attacks on Markle had “colonial undertones”, which the royal family refused to acknowledge. But when the Windsors are entangled in a long history of imperialism and colonialism, should we really be surprised by their ignorance? It is yet another example of how Britain has failed to tackle systematic racism.

Image Credit: The list
Image Credit: tes

The atrocities of the British Empire, which still holds colonies in the Caribbean and elsewhere, were led by the monarchy. In contrast to other war criminals, the monarchy is still alive and praised, due to its whitewashing of history to the point where people refer to the colonies as ‘commonwealth states’ – a term dating back to 1884, the peak of the imperial age. The British empire is responsible for atrocious bloodshed, including the partitioning of India, the Malayan Emergency, the massacre at Amritsar and the crushing of the Mau Mau movement in Kenya. The list goes on.

In 2016, YouGov poll discovered that 67% of the British public were either proud of or had no opinion on colonialism and the British empire. This largely stems from the phenomenal gulf between academic history and the English school curriculum. By omitting our colonial past from the national curriculum, we are concurrently normalising and perpetuating Britain’s denial of its imperial past. The monarchy diverts blame for the actions of their ancestors and thus reparations need not be paid, and stolen artefacts need not be returned, setting the stage for history to repeat itself.

The British empire contracted after the World Wars and eventually dismantled in the 1960s. However, a colonial mindset has persisted. For instance, Queen Elizabeth I, who supported the lucrative dealings of John Hawkins, profited from Britain’s slave trade. The current Head of State, Queen Elizabeth II has never acknowledged her ancestor’s actions in supporting the slave trade. Lest we forget, the now late Duke of Edinburgh once greeted the President of Nigeria, who was wearing national dress, with the comment: “You look like you’re ready for bed!”, brushed off like most of his commentary as an ill thought through ‘gaffe’. Even the philanthropic Prince Harry once played dress-up with Nazi soldier’s uniform.

We have to ask ourselves, given the monarchy is emblematic of institutional racism, why does it still exist? The queen and her property, between 2017 to 2018, received £76.1 million in government funding. The royal family do not hold political power like they once did. Although their existence may seem harmless, in reality, they represent an anachronistic institution that has historically been responsible for the oppression of people, especially Black people, worldwide.

In response to the Markle interview, Halima Begum, chief executive of the Runnymede Trust posits:

“A conversation about racial inequality has now been opened at the highest levels of the British establishment and it has brought with it a reckoning about where racism takes place. Hopefully, this episode will lead to more introspection within the UK about how leaders in this country can support the anti-racism conversation — whether within the monarchy, the boardroom or parliament.”

Lily Sheridan-Power is a final year Anthropology student who wishes to pursue a career in journalism. She enjoys writing short stories and socialising with friends in her spare time.

2020 Round Up

photo credit: The Telegraph

2020 has undoubtedly been arduous. Social interaction has become virtual, lockdowns continue to isolate people from friends and family, and we have all been forced to aclimatise to a new way of living. As we move into 2021 and the pandemic endures, it is important to acknoweldge how the events of the past year have placed a disproportionate strain on the lives of the UK’s poorest and most vulnerable. As Owen Jones recently noted, ‘coronavirus is not some great leveller, it is exacerbating inequality right now’. In recongising this, our editors have considered some key areas in which the burden of the pandemic is being felt asymmetrically.

Unemployment – Rebecca Pugh

This year has been dominated by the Covid-19 global pandemic, resulting in unprecedented shocks to the world economy. Businesses have experienced dramatic, uncontrollable changes in the levels of demand, compounded by vague distinctions surrounding what constitutes essential or non-essential goods, forcing many to close across two national lockdowns and subsequent Tier 4 restrictions. Moreover, as restrictions have eased, they have had to adapt, introducing more onerous safety guidelines.

3.6 million (1/9 workers) in the United Kingdom were in insecure work prior to the pandemic, leaaving many vulnerable to potentially large changes in working hours and income, if they are able to retain their job at all. The government has issued guidance on responsible behaviour when enforcing contracts, asking businesses to consider this as part of the national response. Despite this, current figures suggest 730,000 UK workers have been removed from the payrolls of British companies since March of this year, whilst the number of workers on zero-hour contracts has increased.

We have also seen that the impact of coronavirus has not been felt equally across the UK. The major drivers of these differences in regional economic performance result from local variation in sectoral structures, where those with greater dependence on tourism, greater reliance on international trade and supply chains, or even areas with poorer access to high-speed internet connectivity have experienced more adverse effects. All these factors and more will have a part to play. The only thing we can change is how we respond to this crisis through closer public scrutiny of government action and encouraging change through our own spending habits where possible.

Impact of Covid-19 on Women’s Work Inequality – Zoey Cama

Due to pre-existing inequalities, there is no doubt that women are bearing the brunt of Covid-19 in economies of every size. The rapid spread of the virus placed essential workers at the frontline of exposure. According to reports by the UN Women’s Policy and Programme Division, globally, 70 per cent of health workers are women. Yet, the gender pay gap in the health sector is at a staggering 28 per cent. During the UK’s lockdown, many essential workers were not eligible for furlough and were made to work without much-needed protections. As such, they have been faced with the option of high exposure or the risk of unemployment during a financially burdensome time. For example, it is estimated that 72 per cent of domestic workers have lost their jobs, with women making up 80 per cent of the labour force globally.

Women also make up the majority of single-parent households and many had to leave their jobs when children were sent home from school in March. With the inability to afford childcare, mothers are now facing the hurdle of providing for their families. Even before Covid-19, women spent an average of 4.1 hours per day performing unpaid work, while men spend 1.7 hours.

McKinsey & Company’s report suggests that if governments do not act to address this gender-parity regression, global GDP would be left $1 trillion below where it would be if the coronavirus had affected both sexes equally. Perhaps these statistics will incentivise governments to act redress these social and economic vulnerabilities.

NHS resource allocation – Ella Kennedy

The influx of demand for medical attention caused by the spread of Covid-19 across the UK has stretched our National Health Service to its limits. In the last week, healthcare professionals in London have made clear that the NHS is at breaking point, with patients being sent around the country to available beds. Resources have been redirected towards fighting the virus, impacting those with non-Covid health issues. For example, many NHS patients have had important treatments delayed to free up hospital beds, and A&E services have been significantly reduced. The day-to-day operations the NHS was conducting before the pandemic have been entirely impacted.

Some private hospitals have offered their facilities to NHS patients to help cope with demand, indicating that they have sufficient space to treat all their patients. In addition, due to their size and resources, there is a lower risk of contracting Covid within private hospitals than public hospitals. Evidently, those who can pay can receive treatment during this time in a safe environment.

The NHS has struggled to operate with inadequate government funding for many years, and the situation has been significantly worsened by Covid. Without increased government support, the NHS is vulnerable to collapsing into a US-style private healthcare system which excludes the poor from protection altogether.

The Hypocrisy of Dominic Cummings and the Current Administration – Miranda Daniel

Since the story broke in May, it has been near impossible to avoid the jokes and memes made about Dominic Cummings’ drive to Durham and eye-testing trip to Barnard Castle. Whilst such mockery is undoubtedly humorous, it is important to remember the harsh reality that the scandal has exposed. The coronavirus pandemic highlighted a reality within our society in that there is often one rule for the rich and powerful and another for the majority. Despite clearly breaking the law, Cummings was not forced to resign, instead stepping down from his £140k-a-year role in November following an unrelated, comparatively trivial, internal dispute. In contrast, the police fined at least two people who made the same journey from London to Durham. Fines are an intrinsically elitist means of punishment, as they only deter those who do not have the means to pay if caught, whilst those with excess wealth are free to disregard the law provided they can cover the cost. It was therefore particularly galling and hypocritical to see Cummings push for tougher fines for breaches of coronavirus restrictions in October. There is, however, perhaps a silver-lining emanating from this saga, as the UK public has become more aware of the law’s preferential treatment of elite actors and the self-preservationist nature of the current Conservative government.

BAME Inequalities – Imogen Watkins, Jing Wern Tan and Yen Ning Tay

Multiple studies since the first peak of the Covid-19 pandemic have indicated that individuals from Black, Asian and minority ethnic backgrounds (BAME) have been disproportionately affected by the virus, with black people being four times more likely to die from Covid.

ONS figures suggest this is a result of BAME members of society disproportionately occupying frontline work such as such in social care and the gig-economy, where they are more directly exposed to the virus. Due to the physical nature of this work, these individuals are unable to work from the safety of their homes, instead faced with the choice of leaving their job and losing an invaluable source of income, or continuing employment, at risk of contracting the virus.

Indeed, the pandemic has exposed the effects of more deeply-rooted inequalities, as there has been a disproportionate number of BAME individuals die from the disease. BAME individuals are more likely to be found living in densely packed communities, meaning the virus can spread at an accelerated rate. Furthermore, the long-term effects of austerity and poverty mean the prevalence of comorbidities such as obesity, asthma and cardiovascular disease are more significant in BAME communities – pre-existing conditions that have been found to reduce Covid survival chances. It is the effects of social issues, rather than mere biology, which has contributed to the disproportionate deaths of BAME individuals.

The Conservative government has long-betrayed and marginalised BAME communities, playing a key role in creating the inequalities that have ultimately led to hundreds of unnecessary deaths. Whilst Boris Johnson’s ‘levelling-up’ initiative is welcomed, as it purports to more widely uplift society, there is little to suggest that this will materially differ from previous Conservative neglect of BAME communities.

The Dearth of the Clinic: An Archeology of Privatisation

By Harry Hudson

photo credit: Keep Our NHS Public

Two terms abound when in discussions of the NHS: privatisation and crisis. I will focus on both of these to provide a historically informed account of how the creation of a crisis discourse has enabled privatisation, focusing on the period since 1983, and how this undermining of universalism is concerning in the light of worsening health inequalities. In my account, a crisis discourse has been intentionally manufactured for ideological aims, with a worsening tiered system of healthcare.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF PRIVATISATION (1983-)

The first tentative steps toward privatisation showed that it was politically tolerated. Tendering of contracts for laundry, catering, and cleaning services was implemented under the auspices of better value for money. It was, however, understood that transition to an insurance model could be hugely unpopular for the government; indeed, the manifestos upon which Thatcher was elected, particularly in 1987, belied the radicalism of many advisors and ministers. This was compounded by poor ministerial leadership, cuts, and nightmarish reforms under Sir Keith Joseph — the NHS had, for Charles Webster, “relapsed into a state of siege”. It was into this atmosphere that the rampant modernising agenda would finally eliminate Bevanite egalitarianism. Indeed, Thatcher herself was forced to declare that “the NHS is safe in our hands” after a leak of papers showed that the Cabinet was considering transferring to an insurance system. Ultimately, however, it wouldn’t be until her successors in office, Major and Blair, took office that privatisation would be omnipresent. For the time being, in part due to the scandalous leak, the NHS wasn’t all on the plate.

The reforms of Major and Blair are best dealt with together with the example of private-finance initiatives (PFI), one of the most entrenched aspects of privatisation — the last repayment will not be until 2050. It was conceived in 1992 by Major as a way of hiding money from the public accounts, and it was for this reason Labour embraced PFI — prior to the election, they had denounced it. As an example of the creation of crisis, PFI is supreme: £80 billion pounds spent for £13 billion of assets, with some trusts spending 17% of their annual income on PFI payments. The desire for a smaller state, with less capital expenditure on the balance sheets, has led to such exorbitant and profligate private sector profiteering. Multiple financial concerns were predicted in Cabinet papers, as reported, with an order to “push forcefully ahead” from Major. The legacy of PFI is, unsurprisingly, that there is a postcode lottery in the financial standing of trusts.

THE CREATION OF CRISIS DISCOURSE TOWARD FULL PRIVATISATION

For Conservatives, a new strategy was required. Blair had adopted much of their traditional policy platform, and was riding high from two huge election wins in 1997 and 2001. Policy innovation was needed; health policy is indicative of wider changes. This came in one key publication written in 2005, titled Direct Democracy. It signified a revolution in attitudes to privatisation from a Thatcherite slash-and-privatise model to one of subterfuge. Carswell et al innovated a new response to the failure of Thatcherism to achieve privatisation of the NHS: to break down the barrier between public and private piecemeal, “in effect denationalising the provision of health care in Britain”. Writing six years later, Raab et al, concord: “[t]he current monolith should be broken up.” The method suggested by Carswell et al is revolutionary, and marks a sea change in strategy: the Thatcher administrations pushed through as much privatisation as was possible against any public opinion; the strategy in Carswell was, for me, a way of creating a crisis discourse. In articulating breaking down the barriers between state and private, the authors are arguing for manufactured inefficiency, building unaccountable and exploitative corporations into the NHS.

Under the Coalition, in which many of the authors served (notably Jeremy Hunt, a coauthor of Carswell), parts of this plan were put into place in the Health and Social Care Act 2012, exemplified by trusts being able to provide 49% of services to private patients. The Act was based on a white paper euphemistically titled ‘Liberating the NHS’. In actuality, this Act was a realisation of the plan in Carswell – a provision for regulations to be issued on tendering, and subsequent regulations requiring compulsory competitive tendering. As reported in the BMJ, this Act, and related policy introduced, also ushered in the concept of the self-funded’ NHS patient — including the oft-discussed in-vitro fertilisation, also some cancer surgery and genetic screening.

My conception of the crisis discourse is that when the boundaries between public and private are sufficiently blurred, there will be a semantic change: no longer how inefficient, expensive and unaccountable those private contractors are, but how unaccountable, expensive and inefficient the NHS is. This marks a turn from seeing the NHS as predated upon to seeing the NHS as part of the problem; this is the unseen genius of Carswell. Initiatives such as PFI and relaxations under the Health and Social Care Act 2012 embed the private sector so deeply that it is indistinguishable. The response, then, will be to resort to the efficiency of the market, to open up the entire healthcare system to corporate interests. Privatisation by parts is a lesson from Thatcher’s embarrassing ‘safe in our hands’ experience; this is something suggested by Raab, too: “in the long term if pursued sensitively and on an evolutionary basis, [reforms] are likely to be achieved.”

“no longer how inefficient, expensive and unaccountable those private contractors are, but how unaccountable, expensive and inefficient the NHS is”

To elucidate further the nature of crisis discourse, it is a rhetorical flourish that is itself a genuine problem. It is a way of creating a sense of urgency, analogous to pitiable canoe occupants in the Channel supposedly meriting an immigration bill. It is not that the solution requires radical reform, but that radical reform is sought and a crisis discourse created to enable it. It is a way of undermining the NHS to such an extent that ideologues can respond that the only way to escape such a manufactured crisis is through transition to an insurance-based model. This is the future envisaged by many with individual patients and their doctors in charge of budgets. The NHS is characterised as a problem simply because it is a monopoly. As Carwell et al assert, “ [t]he problem with the NHS is… that the system remains a centrally run, state monopoly, designed over half a century ago.”

INEQUITY AND HEALTH TODAY

Some of the issues we face relate to the incomplete nationalisation of healthcare — insurance and a private healthcare system remain. As acknowledged by the European Observatory on Health Systems and Policies,“[the insurance market] threatens the de facto emergence of what is usually referred to as a “two-tier health-care system”.” It is hard to elucidate driving factors too behind insurance; even the evidence on NHS waiting lists encouraging it is inconclusive. The scale of the private sector is difficult to discern, and will worsen in light of the grossly opaque handling of tendering and contracts during the COVID-19 pandemic. The most reliable analytics on both are also paywalled. On the most recent data I have found publicly available, dating from 2011, the private acute medical sector generated £6.42 billion, with an estimated 28,000 consultants spending some time in the sector. On a background of deinstitutionalisation and the closure of many large psychiatric hospitals, private mental health hospitals are paradigmatic of backdoor privatisation, with 87% of the provision purchased by the NHS. Not only is there a two-tier system in operation, where the rich can buy one kind of healthcare, the NHS is buying private healthcare and is forced to create a bureaucracy for competitive tender regardless. The rich get the most comfortable care, whilst the poor help to enrich private providers whilst unable to afford their wares.

“not only is there a two-tier system in operation, where the rich can buy one kind of healthcare, the NHS is buying private healthcare and is forced to create a bureaucracy for competitive tender regardless”

The existence of a two-tier system also seems evident when one considers the state of worsening health inequalities in the UK. Ten years on from the landmark Marmot Review, inequalities are worsening. Life expectancy is falling in much of the country, and time spent in poor health is increasing; the health gap has grown between wealthy and deprived areas. Those responsible for this are the very same figures who have authored works on the privatisation of the healthcare system — the entrenching of a tiered system. This is not a matter of debate about the relative merits of varying insurance models, but a moral matter: the NHS is valuable because of its universalist ideals; these are dying. Indeed, it may reasonably be argued that the Health and Social Care Act 2012 signalled the death of the English NHS.

The scale of the damage done by recent reforms is hard to overstate. Much of the damage of austerity to health cannot be undone, with some 120,000 excess deaths during the first half of this decade. Additionally, we can see that the crisis discourse was working very well prior to COVID-19; the NHS was consistently discussed as being in a crisis. Indeed, things were bad: the Care Quality Commission assessed more than half of urgent and emergency care and almost a third of medical and outpatient care as requiring improvement or inadequate. The crisis discourse had taken hold, the NHS lay dying, and patients were treated suboptimally in a tiered system — this will likely be compounded by COVID-19 and a future package of austerity. As I have predicted, it will not be long until the manufactured crisis is so real that calls for full privatisation clamour.

TOWARD A UNIVERSALIST FUTURE

One can only hope that with sustained grassroots campaigning Bevanite ideals of universalism will be reinvigorated. This must lead to substantive legal change, repealing much of the law of the past three decades in this area, removing the private sector entirely. This is not a reification of the NHS, but a restitution. When I look to the cabinet and see the authors of After the Coalition occupying the roles of Home Secretary, Foreign Secretary, and International Trade Secretary, however, I have little hope.

I have sketched an archeology here of privatisation, a story that cuts much deeper and broader than the essential features noted above. A quote from Sir Michael Marmot aptly sums it up, “[t]he question we should ask is not, can we afford better health for the population of England, but what kind of society do we want?” We cannot trust rabid neoliberal ideologues to decide; they have already shown their hand.

Harry is a medical student at the University of Bristol, currently intercalating in Law. He is an aspiring academic and has a particular interest in post-structuralism.

How the rise of environmental law has led to carbon colonialism

photo credit: Redd Monitor

By Archie McCreath

Nature narrates the tale of colonialism. Tales of controlling the landscape and exploiting natural resources, stealing land and profiteering off plantations. The environment has never recovered from its commodification. Colonialism did not, of course, solely impact the natural world. Anthropologically, it was a triple threat: economic violation through exploitation, cultural violation through exclusion and political violation through repression. Far from a relic of the distant past, the consequences of imperialism for the Global South are still felt today. Mass poverty, human rights violations and political instability are a legacy of western domination that remains.

Now nature narrates a new horror story. A story of rising sea levels and increasingly desperate food shortages, mass extinctions and extreme weather. While this is a worldwide problem, it places the greatest burden on the Global South. Communities, yet to recover economically from past abuses, have a greater reliance on nature while lacking the resources to counter the impact of western pollution. Despite barely contributing to historical emissions, the South is at the receiving end of the West’s disastrous actions.

This is no coincidence. The ecological destruction, exploitation and commodification at the hand of imperialism has left an almost irreversible print on the natural world. The climate crisis is inseparable from our colonialist past. And by trying to fix it, the evils of neo-colonialism appear to rear up once again.

“The climate crisis is inseparable from our colonialist past.”

The Rise of Environmental Law

The Paris Agreement, signed in 2015, signalled that developed countries are beginning to take the climate crisis seriously. It represents an explosion of new environmental law over the last fifty years. Law grows with society, and as a result, we have nurtured a garden full of protections for the environment. This garden has grown considerably quickly, and not without capitalist fertiliser, which has had adverse effects for the world.

Prior to the 1960s, environmental law had not even come into existence as a distinct legal category. It is a parasitic form of law; one that has attached itself to our domestic and international legal systems without strong roots in either common, civil, constitutional or customary law. Without development over time, it has had to adapt fast, and must continue to do so. It is vital that environmental considerations are factored into every aspect of law and society. The Paris Agreement provides for countries to issue Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) in the fight for a better climate – regulating how humans interact with the environment and natural resources. This is a step in the right direction, but capitalism has a way of finding opportunities to exploit wherever there are gaps to be exploited.

Offset Culture

We live in an age of the carbon neutral citizen. We want carbon neutral flights and carbon neutral homes, carbon neutral food and carbon neutral lattes. Our governments pride themselves on viewing policy through a carbon neutral lens. They all mix with the world’s biggest corporations at Davos, which prides itself on being carbon neutral. This carbon neutral culture is understandable for companies, ever conscious of brand and consumer demands. Even BP, one of history’s biggest polluters, has pledged to hit net zero by 2050. Increasingly, pressure is coming from investors diverting to carbon neutral portfolios.

It is important to clarify that when we talk of being carbon neutral, we’re not talking about producing zero emissions. The Paris Agreement, and the resulting domestic legislation such as the Climate Change Act, use the language ‘net zero’. Carbon will still play a role in our society in 2050, we will just be offsetting it. There are a couple of legal mechanisms provided for in international agreements to achieve ‘net zero’. Emissions-trading is a market driven mechanism that allows for the legal pollution of the atmosphere, enabling corporations to trade-up emission allowances with other companies. This parcels up the atmosphere as a commodity, issuing ‘permits to pollute’ that can be bought and sold. Carbon offsetting is the reduction in certain emissions to make room for emissions elsewhere. While both of these are painted by the Paris Agreement as part of the solution, they are, in reality, part of the problem.

Carbon neutrality is essential and must be fought for. However, the reality is that offsetting, emission trading and other legal mechanisms do not challenge the destructive consumerist ethic that the world runs on which drives the fossil fuel economy. Instead, our demands for a carbon neutral world currently act as a ‘moral cover’ for consumers. While consumers in the Global North can feel guilt free about neutralising flying on holiday by offsetting their emissions, a burden still remains – although it is not shouldered by them. The costs of this moral cover are covered by the Global South.

“our demands for a carbon neutral world currently act as a ‘moral cover’ for consumers … the cost of this moral cover are covered by the Global South.”

Corporations pledge to plant trees to offset their extreme culpability in our climate crisis, commandeering land in the South for large-scale plantations and acting as an occupying force in impoverished rural communities dependent on these lands for survival. All the while allowing Western corporations to pollute more and rake in more money. Sound familiar? See the case of the Norwegian company that leased Ugandan lands for a carbon sink project, resulting in the eviction, torture and deaths of locals. Or the World Bank funded Brazilian eucalyptus plantations, which steal residents’ water supplies, pollute their land with pesticides and evict them from their homes, all the while engaging in illegal labour practices. Corporations charge ahead with these plantations while pushing the notion that consumers need not change their lifestyle. By refusing to change our individual behaviour and demanding that the polluter pays, we’re shifting the burden onto poor communities within the Global South.

Climate Justice

It is one of the legacies of colonialism that the Global North has higher GDP alongside producing the highest CO2 emissions. The Global South, for centuries robbed of their resources, are now on the front line facing the effects of this. The rise of environmental law is aimed at leading us down a path to climate stabilisation. Whether agreements such as those signed in Paris and Kyoto will be effective is another thing. Climate justice puts the people most threatened by climate impacts at the heart of the crisis. The Paris Agreement was not without climate justice aspects. Developed countries agreed to provide $100bn of financial assistance every year to developing countries, helping them to cut emissions and mitigate the disproportionate effects they experience. The funding will fall short this year. This may, of course, have been largely the result of the economic impacts of COVID-19. There are positive signs that rich nations will double-down on climate financing post-pandemic – Germany plans to initiate an international process to increase funds post-2020. When we talk of the ‘polluter pays’ principle, we must make sure this does not just mean the polluting companies, but the colonial powers who have produced the highest levels of emissions to date.

Conclusion

“Empires, the children of the medieval world, were the midwives of the modern”, according to Professor of Imperial History, Richard Dayton. Colonial powers often try to forget or provide incomplete accounts of its past. They may choose to forget the wrongs that have caused the climate justice crisis we face, but the green finger of blame is rightly pointed squarely at Western nations. We’re left staring down the barrel of our own 19th Century muskets. Our money and influence will allow us to dodge the bullets, only for them to hit impoverished communities on Pacific islands and in African farmlands. The South has become the carbon dump for the industrialised world. The current path may well save the world, but it will sacrifice humanity, which, knowing colonial powers, we will choose to forget.

Archie is a Final Year LLB Student at the University of Bristol, who has a keen interest in International Law, Public Law and Environmental Law.

The Home Office’s Problem with Race

By Matt Richardson

photo credit: T A McKay

Britain’s Institutions and Race

The UK has an undeniably problematic relationship with race. Naturally, more overt displays of racism such as the anti immigrant sentiment arising from BREXIT, the attacks on East Asian students in the early stages of the Coronavirus pandemic and violence against the Pakistani community between the 1960s and 1990s draw more fervent media attention, showing clear instances of racial division and prejudice. It is, however, the tacit forms of racism, found in the legally-constituted lived disparities of ethnic minorities in the UK, which reflect the more insidious, structural issues with race in this country.

The 2018 Windrush Scandal, which saw people of Caribbean origin unlawfully detained, stripped of their rights, and, in at least 83 instances, incorrectly deported, serves as a painful and stark reminder of the inherent racism within our British institutions. This is exemplified by Williams’ conclusions on the processes that facilitated the Windrush injustices in the official ‘Lessons Learned’ report, finding the Home Office’s core issue was its inadequate understanding of the Macpherson definition of institutional racism – ‘the collective failure of an organisation’ to provide sufficient services based on racial or cultural markers, present in ‘processes, attitudes, and behaviour’.

Whilst it is important to recognise the value of reports such as Williams’ in creating dialogue around implicit racial biases in contemporary British society, it is equally as important to understand that increased dialogue is only the first step towards driving the practical changes needed to eradicate structural racism within institutions and organisations. As such, this blog argues that, despite the Home Office’s recent (largely symbolic) decision to omit certain individuals from a chartered deportation flight to Jamaica, racial bias remains instilled within the Home Office’s deportation policies and culture. Specifically, this post problematises these policies by inspecting their context and subsequently highlighting areas where the Home Office could implement tangible responses to these systemic issues.

Home Office Policy Context

Between 1948 and 1970, by virtue of the British Nationality Act 1948 (which granted citizens of Britain’s colonies rights to settle in the UK), almost 500,000 Caribbean citizens established new lives in Britain. As a result of this Act, there was no requirement for formal documentation, meaning many Caribbean immigrants to the UK had no way, or need, to prove their right to remain. As immigration measures became more restrictive throughout the 1960s and 1970s, legislative protections followed, granting Commonwealth citizens living in the UK ‘indefinite leave to remain’ and, subsequently, protection from ‘enforced removal’. The latter provision,enshrined in the Immigration Act 1999, was excluded from the Immigration Act 2014, as the Home Office deemed individuals who entered the UK pre-1st January 1973 to be ‘adequately protected from removal’.

The drastic inaccuracy of this was exposed following Theresa May’s implementation of the hostile environment policy, which “[aimed] to create a really hostile environment for illegal immigrants”, mandating organisations involved in core aspects of citizen life, such as the NHS, to check identification documents and take action if the individual could not confirm legal residence. This was compounded by threats to fine non-compliant organisations up to £20,000 per employee, a more complex process for attaining ‘leave to remain’, and ‘[astronomic]’ application fee increases. As members of the Windrush generation began to experience the adverse impacts of these changes: being stripped of employment, housing, benefits, and medical care; as well as experiencing the violent processes of immigration, detention, deportation, and refusal of re-entry, the Home Office’s ‘ignorance and thoughtlessness’ became clear.

Williams’ report affirmed this, tracing the ‘root cause’ of the policy to the ‘racial motivations’ inherent in the legislative changes of the mid-late 1900s. The more recent findings of the European Human Rights Commission further confirm this, finding the Home Office ‘repeatedly ignored [,] dismissed [and] disregarded’ the policy impacts, amounting to illegality as a result of their failure to fulfil public-sector equality duties. In turn, a pattern has emerged that reveals the Home Office’s weak understanding of the disproportionate impact of its policies on minority ethnic citizens.

“a pattern has emerged that reveals the Home Office’s weak understanding of the disproportionate impact of its policies on minority ethnic citizens”

The November 2020 Deal

Against this background, the Home Office’s ‘[quiet agreement]’ with the Jamaican government to cancel the removal of certain individuals is a symbolically positive step towards instituting more racially considerate conduct. Despite arriving legally in Britain under the age of 12, the Home Office sought to deport these individuals on grounds of criminal conviction. Clearly, their decision to cancel some of these deportations reflects increased recognition that those who immigrated here legally are British citizens, meaning the British courts and legal system should handle their crimes. Indeed, the Jamaican High Commissioner to the UK praised the ‘cooperation and consideration’ of the Home Office in resolving this issue, but emphasised that ‘it’s not a law, it’s a kind of understanding’. This is important to remember, as noted by Movement for Justice’s Karen Doyle, who stated that the change was ‘welcome’ but still inherently problematic, as it was shrouded in the ‘secrecy [of] backroom deal-making’.

For this positive action to mark a more significant change in Home Office policy, there must not only be a greater impetus placed on legislative protection from deportation practices for those under the age of 18, but there must also be more decisive and immediate action to subvert the racially biased Home Office culture. This starts with Ministers and senior civil servants taking more overt, public ownership of the fact that race has played an integral role in the formulation of British immigration policies, leading to the Windrush injustices. It is a matter of particular importance, as Williams’ report highlighted that ‘many gave the impression that the situation was unforeseeable and therefore unavoidable’ – suggesting a fundamental lack of understanding of the disproportionate impacts these policies inflict. By demonstrating a level of understanding and remorse, a small degree of comfort could be afforded to those affected by these policies, possibly providing elements of closure and the rebuilding of trust between the citizens concerned and those in power. However, this must ultimately be complemented with cultural reformation in the Home Office. Establishing a ‘race advisory board’ and ensuring the links between Britain’s imperialist history and race are taught to staff is fundamental to the re-shaping of departmental culture. From a policy perspective, rethinking the Home Office’s ‘target-dominated work environment’ and launching a comprehensive review into the hostile environment policy would help more definitively subvert both ingrained attitudes and the racially distorted policy history that has the effect of ‘othering’ those not deemed to be British citizens.

Clearly these reforms will not institute immediate, overnight change to an established culture of implicit bias. Instead, it must be recognised that working towards implementing these more lasting, systemic changes as soon as possible is the beginning of a process that strives to create a more equal and racially considerate approach to immigration in the UK.

Matt Richardson is a Final Year LLB Law Student interested in Corporate Law, EU Law and International Relations. In his spare time he enjoys playing cricket and going to the gym.

How COVID-19 Perpetuates the Control of the Wealthy

By Nayank Dalesh

photo credit: grist

Wealthy corporations have always had a binding hold on the way states operate economically. Through heavy lobbying and business threats, these corporations manipulate and influence which laws are passed and when. COVID-19 has had many consequences on the poorer demographic which have been widely discussed by academics, however the ways in which the rich have been affected by the pandemic is rarely addressed. For instance, Swiss Bank UBS report that billionaires increased their wealth by 27.5% at the height of the crisis from April to July 2020, primarily through purchasing shares as the stock markets were crashing. As markets began to recover, their wealth increased. Similarly, as states continue to take out loans to counter the economic crisis, their super-rich creditors will benefit through interest payments – a stark contrast to those struggling in poverty as a result of economic turmoil: proof indeed that we are not ‘all in this together’. Accordingly, this blog explores the impact of COVID-19 on the financial aristocracy and the risks this poses to our democracy.

Background of Institutional Control

The concept of the rich controlling the freedom of workers is hardly a new one. In the 1920s, Hale expounded his theory of volitional freedom. Hale’s work challenged the widely accepted theory of ‘laissez faire’ economics, arguing that the law (and state) play an important role in determining what economic outcomes arise. Large businesses control the “free” market, as they have more bargaining power than regular workers, meaning there is a significant power imbalance between the two parties. Without this equality in the social agreement, there is a lack of mutual coercion, meaning corporations are able to coerce workers into accepting market deals worse than they deserve (such as lower wages, worse working conditions etc) whereas workers have little capital to bargain with in return.

Not only does the state allow such a power imbalance to arise, but it facilitates this. Streeck argues that states serve two different electorates: the people of the state (Staatsvolk), and the people of the market (Marktvolk). Of course, a state ostensibly does everything it can to provide for its citizens, but this is tempered by submission to the wishes of large corporations when it comes to market decision making. This can be seen, for example, when Elon Musk threatened to transfer Tesla HQ from California to Nevada. In this instance, officials chose to undermine the livelihood of the workers by changing safety policies amid a pandemic in order to keep the money flowing. If a massive corporation like Tesla leaves the state, it leaves the state in an economically worse situation. Therefore, like a slave to its own system, the state must abide by the views and influences of such corporations – shackles that, ultimately, restrain democracy.

“officials chose to undermine the livelihood of the workers by changing safety policies amid a pandemic in order to keep the money flowing.”

Consequently, corporations are able to monopolise the Staatsvolk electorate so significantly that a state will prioritise them over public needs during a global pandemic. With such strong bargaining power, a measly working-class member of Tesla lacks any chance of matching the bargaining power of their employer. This is especially true when we consider the level of unemployment and reduced job opportunities for the poor.

Shifting Blame & Burden

In controlling state actions, corporations also tactically shift the blame for austerity measures onto the state, and the burden of economic rebalancing onto the shoulders of the poor.

Similarly, to the 2008 economic crash, it is likely that capitalist corporations will improve their financial situation without helping the state. After the global financial crisis, privatisation boomed with reduction of corporation tax by 10% and 30% tax on profits for oil & gas companies as opposed to 62%. The austerity enforcement that crippled poor lives protected these ventures, arrangements that are analogous to what is happening today. Accordingly, we can posit the notion of wealth begetting wealth, supported by the turnovers of tech giants like Amazon and Facebook. It seems somewhat grotesque and unnecessary that these companies stand to make billions in profit while others are plunged into poverty, but this simply proves that corporations have power over states in bypassing tax initiatives and welfare support, as evidenced by the situation of Amazon, Google and Starbucks in the UK.

Lobbying

One major way in which large corporations protect themselves against state policies and law is by lobbying for certain legislation to be passed in a particular way for the maximum benefit of their company. This is likely to be exacerbated by COVID19, as companies have attempted to take advantage of states’ vulnerable economic situation using their superior bargaining power. In the first 6 months of this year alone, tech companies have spent record amounts (over $20 million) for this purpose. Facebook and Amazon alone have invested $10 million to tap into federal and private sectors handling of the COVID19 pandemic. Through the government’s complicity in allowing such actions to take place, an image of untouchability has been created around these businesses. It appears that if you’re rich enough, you can control the law. This supports the work of Streeck and indicates that the wishes of state citizens are no longer states’ primary concern.

Conclusion

“Austerity is a class project that disproportionately targets and affects working-class households and communities and, in doing so, protects concentrations of elite wealth and power”

This sentiment rings true now more than ever. The focal point of this post was not to compare rich and poor, but rather to zone in on how the rich are profiting through the economic and social turmoil created by the pandemic. The Marktvolk’s institutional control allows them to evade public scrutiny through shifting the blame towards the state, and the burden for restructuring onto the poor. Indeed, it is evident that the rich have such a significant amount of control and power that they can influence and manipulate the types of laws being passed, in order to ensure their own personal prosperity even through a pandemic. It is like staying afloat in an infinity pool while the rest of the world is drowning in an ocean.

Nayank Dalesh is a 3rd Year Law with Study Abroad student studying at the University of Bristol. He is set to go on his year abroad to Kyoto in 2021. He is interested in International Law and Arbitration, as well as Jurisprudence.

Tryweryn – When profit is more important than heritage

By Morgan Taylor

Not only do a great deal of parties outside of Wales know little of its culture, but equally little of the trials and tribulations faced by the Welsh nation. Whilst I could discuss the language erasure prompted by the “Welsh (K)Not,” or the pitiful theft of Welsh money by Westminster, I am choosing to discuss the tale which seems to have the most emotional response when shared with my friends and colleagues of different backgrounds. This is the story of the drowning of the town Capel Celyn, or as it is better known within the general consciousness, “Tryweryn.”

The year is 1960, Wales is yet to see any real devolution powers (though has been graciously permitted to have a small, nationwide council which can advise Westminster), and our town in question is that of Capel Celyn – a small village in rural Wales, one of the final communities in Wales which strictly spoke Welsh, and a town roughly 60 miles to the west of its closest major city – Liverpool.

In the late 1950s, it was reportedly decided that Liverpool needed a new water supply – this initially seems like a just cause to support a populous city, but as unearthed in a recent interview with former Labour Peer, Lord Elystan Morgan, an active labour MP during this event, Liverpool had a declining population meaning there was no need for a greater supply of water. Rather, the city council had decided to sell water at an industrial level in order to generate profit. As such, it is crucial to keep in mind that all of the actions performed by Liverpool City Council henceforth were not done in order to help citizens under their jurisdiction, but rather in the pursuit of profit, selling gallon after gallon of stolen water to fill their own pockets.

“the actions performed by Liverpool City Council henceforth were not done in order to help citizens under their jurisdiction, but rather in the pursuit of profit”

The City Council set about deciding upon a location for a reservoir; whilst Liverpool is relatively close to the Lake District, an easy, reliable source for water, it was decided that instead, a reservoir would be constructed in North Wales, in the valley of Tryweryn – which contained the village of Capel Celyn. The village itself would have to be flooded in order for Liverpool to construct its reservoir. In order to facilitate this, Liverpool Council brought a private bill before Parliament, knowing that doing so would allow them to circumnavigate Welsh authorities. Furthermore, this bill would allow them total control over the project, avoiding input from the town council of Capel Celyn and any potential backlash from displaced villagers. This did not seem to concern the City Council who were wholly aware that there was little their opposition could do to stop them. Wales had little power outside of a small, unelected council dealing with South Wales, and the Minister for Welsh Affairs – an Oxford born and bred conservative politician. Wales, despite a history of uprisings, and strong patriotic spirit, was not in a position to bargain.

Despite every Welsh MP voting against the bill, it moved forward through the House. In an attempt to appeal to the hearts of the councilmen, a selection of residents, delegated by members of the village, travelled to Liverpool to speak up against the plan, but were swiftly ejected from the council building when they made their presence known. When a protest march was organised, protestors pleading that their homes be saved were spat at, had rotting food thrown at them, and received a torrent of abuse from the political figures above them as well as Liverpudlian citizens. The hopes of the people of Capel Celyn were dashed time and time again, and by 1962, the village residents were evicted from their land.

Protest in Liverpool attempting to stop the flooding of the Tryweryn Valley, 1956
(photo credit: Wikipedia)

The very concept of evicting an entire village is a rather distressing one. The school was closed and children sent to pursue education elsewhere; the church was deconsecrated, its final service having far more attendees than the village had in residents as people poured in to express their disdain at the situation. Bodies were dug up and “rehomed” from the local cemetery, but quite reasonably not all families had a desire to dig up their dead relatives. Consequently, Liverpool City Council and their contractors said that they would remove the headstones and cover the cemetery in gravel and cement to avoid disturbing the remains of the dead. As the reservoir was built, however, this was entirely forgotten as profit and deadlnes took priority over any competing myth of respect. Though the decision to flood this village was ‘lawful’, this case highlights the injustice prevalent where profit is prioritised over the wishes and wellbeing of minority communities. With few constitutional rights to draw protection from, the Welsh town was left without redress.

“profit is prioritised over the wishes and wellbeing of minority communities.”

In the years following the flooding of Capel Celyn and the Tryweryn valley, Wales saw change. In some instances, violent change – bombings at the dam site and interference with the electricity powering the instruments for the dam in an attempt to make clear the Welsh’ hatred for the actions of an English government. In other instances, political change; post the Tryweryn incident, Wales’ own political party, “Plaid Cymru,” saw its support nearly double, and in 1964 Wales got its own Government department, as well as a secretary of state. Liverpool City Council made the decision to flood the Tryweryn Valley due to Wales’ lack of power to oppose it, but in the process lit the spark of a Welsh independence movement.

Exploitation for the pursuit of profit is clearly evident in the case study of Capel Celyn: the desire of Liverpool City Council to make profit by encroaching on land and culture it did not own and the corresponding treatment received by Welsh nationals and politicians opposing the plans (evoking strong connections to Britain’s imperial past). Power and dominion were key to the English Council’s actions and demonstrate the way in which law favoured the profit making majority over the citizens of Capel Celyn. This case study also demonstrates, however, that injustice can spark powerful counter-movements. The patriotism in Wales as a response to these events was so fierce that Wales went on to get its own Parliament, own special powers, and its own independence movement.

When this great story of our nation’s independence is written, in the very near future, it is this generation that will be able to say, “We got there,” Because we marched! United in our goal, ignited in our passion, all under one banner, in our hearts and in our minds, already free!” – Adam Price, Leader of Plaid Cymru

Morgan is a final year LLB Student who hopes to pursue a career in medical law, ideally surrounding mental capacity legislation. His interests are in Public Law and Medical Law, as well as Debating.

In Black and White: A Young Barrister’s Story of Race and Class in a Broken Justice System – review

By Imogen Watkins

photo credit: Amazon
photo credit: RadicalGraffiti

In Black and White is barrister Alexandra Wilson’s account of her journey to the Bar; the reasons for pursuing law and the vulnerable people she has encountered, as well as the challenges she has faced being a young mixed-race woman in a profession largely dominated by white men.

Access to justice is an integral part of our society. It is a fundamental right. Yet, Wilson’s debut book endeavours to set out some uncomfortable truths about the justice system in the UK, concerning race, class and vulnerability. It poses the question – do we all have an equal right to justice?

Wilson’s journey into law began and was inspired by the tragic death of her close friend, Ayo, who was attacked simply for being a young black boy “in the wrong place at the wrong time”. His death was treated as though he was engaged in gang violence, even though this was unimaginable to those who knew him. Alexandra wanted to find answers. She wanted to know why Ayo had been wrongly identified as a gang member. She wanted to make a difference from within and pursued a career in law. This decision was met with scepticism and hostility from her family, who feared she may have to prosecute BAME people.

The book does not shy away from discussing and analysing some of the most prevalent issues plaguing the justice system. A key problem Wilson refers to is the persisting difficulty of Litigants in Person. Litigants in person are individuals who represent themselves, as they are unable to access legal representation. These individuals, unable to express themselves in the manner of a trained barrister, are more likely to face an unfavourable result in court. Although difficult to quantify the effect of this, as there is little research on the subject, many barristers have stated that they feel there has been an unfair outcome for the unrepresented party. Wilson also highlights issues around youth offending, discussing the upsetting exploitation children and young people are facing through the ‘county lines’ drug rings. One particularly unsettling moment is the story of Layla, a fourteen-year-old girl caught up in a drugs ring and subsequently abused.  It is heart-breaking to learn that Layla pleaded for an electronic tag to be put on her, in order to free her from the gang. Wilson draws attention to the stories of just a few children, but it is clear how widespread these issues are. Children are being brought into gangs and are exposed to unbelievable exploitation, largely due to a decade of cuts to children’s and youth services, as well as stagnating wages. Gangs seem like an immediate way out of their desperate situations. The reality is very different, and these children get stuck in an underfunded Criminal Justice System that seems out to get them.

photo credit: RadicalGraffiti

The overarching theme in this book is the dire need for diversity. Wilson herself says, “People caught up in the Criminal Justice System might have more faith in it if the Bar is more diverse.” It appears that institutional racism has become normalised at the Bar, which is why Wilson emphasises that clients are so fearful of the system. There is a concerning moment when another barrister tells Alexandra that the “racist judge has retired.” Having more diverse representation can and will make clients feel more at ease and hopefully remove the mistrust of the system. Diversity at the Bar is improving, with 13.6% of barristers now being from a BAME background. However, the expense of an undergraduate degree and the Bar Course is particularly daunting for those of a lower socio-economic background. As well as this, the inherent nepotism in the legal system, though being managed through diversity initiatives, can mean some do not have enough experience to attain a pupillage. It is not controversial to say that those most able to get legal work experience are likely to be of a white middle-class background and are, therefore, more likely to attain pupillage. As such, Wilson states it leads to serious imposter syndrome and alienation. Just a few weeks ago, Wilson tweeted about the racial discrimination she faced on one day in the Magistrates’ Court: she was assumed to be a defendant just because of the colour of her skin. It is further proof of the need for more inclusion and diversity at the Bar.

“she was assumed to be a defendant just because of the colour of her skin”

In Black and White is a must read for law students and practitioners, as well as those outside of the legal system. It is a thought-provoking account of Wilson’s journey to the Bar, highlighting the need for greater investment and diversity in public legal services, so as to avoid the unequal outcomes she highlights. The book makes it clear that the Justice System has a long way to go in becoming an institution reflective of the public it seeks to protect.

Imogen is a final year LLB student who wishes to pursue a career at the Bar. Her interests are in Public Law, Family Law and Employment Law.