Luftur Rahman is now, in law, the ex-Mayor of Tower Hamlets, the Electoral Commission (sitting as judge) having found him guilty of electoral fraud.
The detail of the verdict need not concern us here. Nor, indeed. need the ethnicity of the ex-Mayor or his allegiances. A focus on such matters tends to obscure the more fundamental issue: that investing executive power in a single person, whilst not ensuring robust systems of scrutiny and, where need be, recall, is to expose democracy to the risk of corruption .
While Boris Johnson, for example, may not be criminally guilty, it is reasonable to point out that his 7 years in power have not been without a whiff about “semi corruption” and contempt for (toothless) scrutiny and patronage.
The obvious solution to Tower Hamlets’ democratic legitimacy woes, and those of other areas where mayorality hasn’t turned out so well, is to take it all as an interesting but failed experiment, and return promptly to the form of local government which has, by and large, served us pretty well for a century or so.
Unfortunately, this isn’t very easy, at least at at first sight. Under the Coalition’s 2011 Localism Act, a referendum to reverse the decision of a referendum on governance arrangements can only take place 10 years after the original referendum . In the case of Tower Hamlets, the referendum which brought mayoral politics to the borough only took place in October 2010, further to a petition organised (manipulated?) by Respect and the Islamic Forum for Europe (this under the provisions of the Local Government Act 2000). By this route, the borough could only return to sensible local government in 2020.
Fortunately, yet another piece of legislation – this time Labour’s  Sustainable Community Act (2007), which allows councils to see devolution of central government powers to local government where such powers “assist councils in promoting the sustainability of local communities” . In my view, a proposal from current councillors, in advance of a new mayoral election, for the devolution of power to allow the council simply to return to the leader-cabinet model, with its now normal scrutiny functionsn – or even to return to the older committee system (as has happened in Fylde) – could be justified on the basis of community sustainability, given the division and hatred brought about through the mayoral model. Conversely, it might be argued that a further mayoral election (or continuation of that system) is a recipe for further division and animosity, whoever wins, given the accusations likely to keep on flying.
If I were a Labour councillor in Tower Hamlets, that’s what I’d be investigating right now, not least because this route to a settling down period might even find favour with non-Labour councillors. I can also envisage a new DCLG Secretary of State welcoming such a proposal, on the basis that it swiftly undoes the harm brought by the divisive Respect/IFE cabal, as well as smacking of strong and decisive government.
 There is not time for a full exploration of the link between concentrated executive power and corruption here, but it’s worth noting how initial, valid concerns about such corruption were set to one side by New Labour as they grabbed hold of the idea of importing the mayoral system from the US, as part of their evidence-free faith in managerialism.
Indicative of this, one of New Labour’s earlier intellectual supporters, Gerry Stoker, acknowledged in a 1992 paper “The fact that an elected executive mayor implies a great concentration of power in a single individual rather than dispersal among many, raises the potential for perhaps more serious instances of corruption.” By the time of his 2004 book Transforming Local Governance, however, he was persuaded enough of the merits of the mayoral system to set such concerns to one side, even while acknowledging that ” an effective mix of checks and balances is a considerable institutional design challenge”, and that it is “not clear that the regulations that followed the Local Government Act 2000 met that challenge” (p.140). In other words, managerialism had won the intellectual day.
 A useful 2014 Parliamentary Briefing (pdf) explains the changes (p.5):
The Localism Act 2011 permitted a referendum to be held on abolishing an elected mayor, subject to time limits; and for a referendum to be held on establishing a leader and cabinet, or on using the committee system. Four authorities have held referendums on whether to retain their mayoral system. Electors in Doncaster (3 May 2012) and Middlesbrough (26 September 2013) voted to retain their elected mayor, whilst those in Hartlepool (15 Nov 2012) voted to replace it with the committee system, and those in Stoke-on-Trent (23 Oct 2008) voted to replace it with a leader and cabinet system.
Authorities which have changed their governance arrangements as a result of a referendum can only make a further change following a further referendum. Where a local authority has held a referendum on its governance arrangements, a further referendum may not be held for ten years (five years in Wales).
 To the Coalition’s credit, their amendments to the Act took the legislation from one which was based on application rounds to one which allows local authorities (and since 2013 Parish & Town Councils) to submit proposals to DCLG at any time.
 The link here is to guidance on the Act and its amendments, because the level of amendment means it is misleading to link to the original act and confusing to link simply to amending legislation.
Today Ed Miliband has made a key promise:
We have to end the epidemic of zero hours contracts.
So today I can announce that in our first year of government after the election, Labour will pass a law that says:
If you are working regular hours, you will get a regular contract.
A legal right that will apply to all workers after 12 weeks.
This sounds great, except that it does very little to end the exploitation of people on zero hour contracts.
You see, the people most exploited by zero hour contracting are not those on regular hours, but those on irregular hours.
Ensuring that people already working regular hours get a contract that reflects that fact may be nice enough, and clarity on contractual terms is welcome (though it may come at the cost of inflexibility which is bad for employees too). ACAS, for example, finds that most of its helpline calls related to zero hour contracting are about lack of clarity/understanding, and that many problems e.g. around holiday pay calculations are less to do with overt exploitation than poor communication.
But those most exploited under zero hour contracting are those who are called into work at short notice and must be ready to go into work, meaning that they can’t work elsewhere, and must have care arrangements in place. As it stands – and of course we haven’t seen any legislation wording – the number of people on irregular hours may actually increase, as less scrupulous employers seek loopholes around does and what doesn’t constitute regular hours. Even at best, today’s commitment from Miliband don’t seem to do anything to protect people on irregular hours.
As I’ve said previously, zero hour contracts are not of themselves exploitative, and many employers (including me) have used them for years while retaining perfectly good relations with employees; indeed, at my place I’d say they even enhance relationships, because staff can and do shift their hours by informal ‘just get on with it’ agreement. Rather, it is the way they are used by certain employers that is exploitative, and the best way to tackle that is not by legislation, but by increasing worker bargaining power through unionisation (though tackling the employer incentive to employ people part-time in order to avoid national insurance contributions would also help).
I fear that Labour, by moving down the legislation route in an understandable pre-election bid to look tough on labour market injustice, may not only be creating for a rod for its own back when it comes to implementation. It may also be doing a long-term disservice to low-paid workers by acting as what the Economist has called (in relation to minimum wage legislation) a “proxy union”.
What I mean by this is that, while the introduction of minimum wage a) did not create unemployment (as claimed by the right); b) may have pushed other non-minimum wages up (pdf), it also removed at one fell swoop a key raison d’etre of trade unions, arguably contributing to decline in membership.* In turn, this has arguably fed into less active trade union representation in the workplace, and greater worker vulnerability in the face of those employers who are deliberately exploitative around contractual terms (I’m differentiating here from exploitation as an essential feature of capitalism).
Would Sports Direct have introduced its zero hour contracting in the first place if there had been stronger workplace representation?
As we look forward to another round of legislative protection from a new Labour-led government, we should be careful what we wished for.
* Until 1985, the British trade union movement opposed (pdf, section 2.3) the introduction of a statutory minimum wage. What remains under-researched is whether they were right to do so.
While creating the links for my previous post, I came upon this quite unpleasant post from right-wing blogger Tim Worstall, in which he introduces the concept of “underage totty”.
Underage totty in Worstall’s world is, as far as I can establish, a female who is a child in law and therefore with a right to legal protection from sexual predators, but who by dint of some pro-active display of her sexuality, can be seen not to be in need of that protection. Or something. From what he goes on to say about how 14, 15 and 16 year olds should be treated under law, Worstall seems to be suggesting that a physical capacity to act or appear in a sexual or sexualised manner should be the main indicator of when a young person should be regarded as an adult in law, when it comes to sexual consent.
Now Worstall’s ignorance of or wanton disregard for how wealth, power and gender status* come together to create the concept of “totty” in the first place need not detain us too long – he revels in his non-PC status and a bit of online trolling of a possible victim of serious sexual abuse is presumably all part of the act – but his post does give cause for reflection over what age should be the age to which young people still need protection under the law (we will leave aside here Worstall’s apparent confusion between the age of consent and protection from harm).
In fact, while Worstall seems to suggest that the age of protection should be lowered on the basis that young women can appear physically older, actual research suggests public and legal policy might be better going the other way, and creating protective mechanisms for young people for longer. If we look at brain, as opposed to breast, formation, longitudinal tracking of adolescents and young people’s brains indicates that the parts of the brain associated with judgment, especially in “hot” circumstances, continues well into a young person’s third decade:
Most research to date has captured information in conditions of “cold cognition” (e.g., low arousal, no peers, and hypothetical situations). Like impulse control and sensation seeking, hot and cold cognition are subserved by different neuronal circuits and have different developmental courses . Thus, adolescent maturity of judgment and its putative biological determinants are difficult to disentangle from socioemotional context.
I don’t, of course expect pointing to actual research about how young people develop, and how public policy might need to change in the light of newish data, will do much to change the views of Worstall and the similarly-minded on what’s permissible if you’re a rich, white bloke. But, as someone who remains unapologetically and old-fashionedly PC about the rights of both women and children, I do feel bound to point it out.
Cameron and his team are looking to outflank UKIP by restricting access to National Insurance numbers as a way of capping lower skilled worker entry to the UK labour market. This, as Barroso says, is illegal under EU law, and it just isn’t going to happen, though Cameron will be hoping to keep up the pretence that it might until the other side of the Rochester byelection.
For Labour (and the liberal-left in general), there’s a positive in this. There’s a short window in which it might set out its own more coherent proposals for restricting freedom of movement, and a legal mechanism to do so.
Let’s start with the legal mechanism, which requires an initial bit of myth-busting about what can and can’t be done under EU law.
Just about anyone in the commentariat or UK politics who claims to understand the EU will tell you that freedom of movement is ‘sacrosanct’, and a basic principle of the Single Market. They may also tell you that if a EU state restricts freedom movement for citizens of other EU states, then it’s in breach of the Lisbon Treaty.
This, though, is incorrect.
This is what Article 45 of the Lisbon Treaty actually says (my emphasis)
1. Freedom of movement for workers shall be secured within the Union.
2. Such freedom of movement shall entail the abolition of any discrimination based on nationality between workers of the Member States as regards employment, remuneration and other conditions of work and employment.
3. It shall entail the right, subject to limitations justified on grounds of public policy, public security or public health:
(a) to accept offers of employment actually made;
(b) to move freely within the territory of Member States for this purpose;
(c) to stay in a Member State for the purpose of employment in accordance with the provisions governing the employment of nationals of that State laid down by law, regulation or administrative action;
(d) to remain in the territory of a Member State after having been employed in that State, subject to conditions which shall be embodied in regulations to be drawn up by the Commission.
The limiting clause is there for a reason. It is there because early formulators of the legislation (and the limitations date from Clause 48, para 3 of the 1957 Treaties of Rome) understood that total freedom of movement might be difficult to implement, and that there might be occasions when it is best to take a step back.
Now, it’s not quite as easy to invoke the limiting clause as it might once have been. This is because in 2004, EU Directive 2004/38/EC tightened up the process for curtailing freedom of movement by requiring that any person whose movement is curtailed has to be named, and specific reasons provided for the curtailment. Thus, if freedom of movement were to be restricted on a large scale, including for whole states, that Directive would need to be repealed. But the point is that, with political willing from all states, this repeal could take place through the ordinary legislative procedures of the EU, and would not require treaty change.
There are two questions that arise from this. First, why on earth would Southern and accession states voluntarily accede to the repeal of Directive 2004/38/EC when their citizens stand to lose freedom of movement and therefore earning power? Second, what good would it do Labour to engage in such a process (or set out promises for same in its manifesto.
The answer lies in another section of the Lisbon treaty. Article 30 states that “customs duties on imports and exports and charges having equivalent effect shall be prohibited between Member States. This prohibition shall also apply to customs duties of a fiscal nature.” but article 32 clear the way for exceptions to the rule:
In carrying out the tasks entrusted to it under this Chapter the Commission shall be guided by………the need to avoid serious disturbances in the economies of Member States and to ensure rational development of production and an expansion of consumption within the Union.
Invocation of this aspect of the Lisbon treaty as part of the overall deal between richer and poorer states would create the room for temporary suspension of the single market, and the creation of export subsidy/import substitution mechanisms, such that convergence can occur at a much quicker pace than might otherwise happen. It would effectively, give the newer EU states the space they need to catch up, as long as they agree to their side of the bargain – keeping and feeding their own citizens, especially if it were to go hand in hand with a redistribution of EU structural funds** towards the poorer states:
1. It hoists Farage by his own petard. He has claimed that slower economic growth in Britain is a price worth paying for reduced immigration, and what is proposed here is a route to just that, not just because in the real world immigration into the UK is an economic good, but because UK companies stand to lose business through temporary tariffs. Farage can hardly object to concrete proposals to put into practice what he adovcates.
2. It allows Labour to argue, correctly, that the root cause of EU immigration is the failure of the free market within the EU; economic convergence between rich and poor states has simply not taken place through free trade, and policy intervention by the EU is now needed to help convergence along the way.
3. Labour has no choice. Trying to outdo UKIP or the Tories on toughness is just a non-starter given the very low levels of trust the party suffers on immigration generally, which stem both from a hostile media and from the party’s failure to be clearer about the benefits of EU immigration back in the early 2000s – when it did enjoy considerable trust. Similarly, a late attempt to win over the electorate to the economic benefits of such immigration are doomed to failure, given the evidence that any form of redistributive policy, seen as demanding some form of self-sacrifice, is almost certain to get a hostile reception when political trust is low.
In these circumstances, the only realistic way forward for Labour is to be seen to accede to the expressed demands of much of the British population, and seek to reduce immigration from the EU in the short to medium term, irrespective of the fact that this may actually damage the economy (though in the longer term real economic convergence will benefit all EU states, of course).
*I use the term liberal-left purposely in order to distinguish it from the Marxist left. As a fairly gross generality, the Marxism-inspired left would see what I propose here as an accommodation with nationalism and xenohpobia, that the left’s efforts are better directed at collective action against the real enemy, capitalism, and that the desire of a large part of the population to reduce immigration is one rooted in false consciousness. I have some sympathy with this analysis, however crudely I express it, but I am also a democratic socialist who believes that people do have the right to express preferences, and that telling them their preferences are a product of ignirance is not productive for the most part
**Jacek Rostowski, ex-finance minister for Poland, said recently:
No Polish government could agree to Cameron’s renegotiation proposals except in return for a mountain of gold.
He, of course, recognises that there is a deal to be done. even if Cameron doesn’t.
As for why and how Labour would gain from setting out these proposals, there are three points to make.
Introduction to part 2
In part 1 of this critical engagement Professor Alexis Jay’s report on Child Sexual Exploitation (CSE) in Rotherham, the focus was mainly on the factors which drove the upsurge in CSE in the late 1990s and 2000s, rather than the council’s and other agencies’ response to that upsurge. Clearly, though, the way in which those ‘external’ factors took effect during the period had an effect on the appropriateness, or otherwise, of the response by those agencies.
In part 1, I made two main points in particular about the weaknesses in the Jay report in respect of these factors. Here in part 2, I’ll expand somewhat on the implications of these, and of how the reports interprets them, before moving on to the ‘internal’ institutional dynamics of the agencies response to CSE, and will again suggest that the analysis by Jay is inadequate, and indeed potentially counterproductive at a national level, given her new role as adviser to the public inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse announced in July.
In part 3, I’ll move on to what I think is the biggest conceptual flaw in the Jay report – the failure to grasp what community development actually is – and I’ll finish with an assessment of what does actually need to be done to stop and prevent the growth of CSE (and child abuse more generally), and offer some suggestions on how we might move in that direction. Needless to say, these suggestions won’t involve manadatory reporting, which is at best a distraction, or fabricating evidence so that staff can be disciplined, as the MP for Rotherham is now apparently suggesting. Sadly, Labour has been utterly useless in its response so far, and this is my attempt to help it respond better, before it is too late.
Ethnicity and political correctness
In part 1 I suggested that the report lacked the courage of some of its convictions about the “issue of ethnicity” (as one of the report chapters is entitled), with Jay going to lengths to say that ethnicity cannot possibly be seen as a predictor of child abuse perpetration, before backtracking and accepting that future work to combat CSE may have to confront ‘cultural issues’. I then set out an alternative way of approaching the matter, in a way that not only allows for a ‘race-blind’ approach to tackling CSE, but which is actually more effective because it is race-blind i.e. it is not caught up by extraneous issues of ethnicity, but focuses on the actual material circumstances which are predictive of CSE .
This is important stuff because, if we accept that race-blind intervention to stop and then prevent CSE is not only possible but more effective than ethnicity-focused intervention , much of the criticism, itself based in the report on little more than hearsay, that police, council staff and councillors betrayed children because they weren’t courageous enough to ‘take on political correctness’ – becomes an irrelevance.
Maybe, just maybe, the managers and councillors were correct in their approach. Maybe, just maybe, being politically correct can be correct in terms of lived outcomes as well as votes.
That’s not to say that sending the Home Office researcher off on diversity training course for using the word ‘Asian’ in a report was the correct thing to do; this does sound cack-handed, as it is pretty well impossible to imagine a Home Office researcher into CSE having anything other than a good understanding of diversity issues, and therefore open to a reasonable debate, based on the kind of evidence I produced in part one about circumstance being the overriding predictor, about whether her approach was reasonable. Her mistreatment, though, may have more to do with the dominant masculine managerialism referred to in the Jay report (and which I analyse below) than with the fact that she was right and they were wrong about the fundamentals of the best way to tackle the CSE epidemic.
Maybe it was the other way round. Maybe the managers were right. Maybe she was wrong.
Let”s be blunt, then. Even though the report hedges it is bets – “Recommendation 14 reads: The issue of race should be tackled as an absolute priority if it is a significant factor in the criminal activity of organised child sexual abuse in the Borough)” – this very hedging means that the media and popular reaction to the report has focused on the need to overcome political correctness and focus on ethnicity a way to prevent further abuse.
The Jay report may therefore end up doing children currently being exploited and at risk of exploitation more harm than good.
The perfect storm: external meets internal
Also in part 1, suggested that a key weakness in the Jay report – though this may have more to do with the terms of reference and timescales than Jay and her team’s own capacities – is the failure to assess why the incidence of CSE has risen. My own answer to this question is linked to the argument above about circumstance over ethnicity, and argues that the rise of mobile and social media technology, plus the easy availability of internet porn as a progressively misogynsing factors [link to Us article], creates both the ‘motivation’ and opportunity to develop exploitative techniques. Jay’s relative failure to assess the surge in incidence feeds into the over-emphasis on ethnicity. It also incidentally allows her a route out of commenting properly on the horribly inequitable funding of the council as a whole; while she notes the 33% loss of spending power in Rotherham in comparison with 4.8% in Buckinghamshire (para 12.14) , there is no recommendation as to what might be done about such clear inequity.
But this is just one part the ‘perfect storm’ that hit those principally and statutorily responsible for protecting children – frontline social workers. The other factors which hit children’s social care staff in the crucial period were understaffing – I’m not sure how any council department might be expected to operate with a vacancy rate of 43% (para 12.2) – and the rampant managerialism which took hold of public services delivery in the 1990s and 2000s.
I should be clear what I mean by managerialism, a term not used in the Jay report itself but which I use here to reflect the kind of events she describes (but doe not fully analyse) in her report.. I mean the ideologically-motivated assumption that if public services (indeed services of any kind) are subject to improved management targets and controls, then the quality of that services is bound to improve. This assumption, as Chris Dillow has set out on his blog and in his fine book New Labour and the folly of managerialism is wrong, not least because what may be gained through ‘efficiencies’ is lost through diminished professional/worker autonomy.
This we can see from the Jay report, is precisely what happened in Rotherham in the 2000s. The account at paras 6.21-6.24 about how social worker time was remorselessly squeezed away from both preventative and vital followup work is not just an account of understaffing. When I asked frontline social workers in my area about this section, they actually burst out laughing at the idea that there might not have been downward pressure to increase “throughput” (the beautifully managerial term used by Jay at para. 6.23); of course frontline professionals would deny that they had submitted to such pressures, they told me, as that would make them look unprofessional in the eyes of Jay’s team (and therefore open to disciplinary measures for loss of professional standards), but of course they will have submitted to pressures – how, if there were no such pressures, would have the question of such pressure have arisen in the first place?
Perhaps even more revealingly, Jay covers the role played by Barnardo’s in the removal of professional autonomy, through the introduction of a “numeric scoring system” (para 6.38). Jay detiails how, while managers may claim otherwise in their interviews (again, understandably in the view of possible sanctions), frontline social workers make it quite clear that there was little room for them to exercise professional judgment and override the scoring system where they felt the scoring was underplaying the actual risk at which children found themselves.
Again, I asked experienced children’s social workers, with whom I come into contact for me work, what they thought of these paragraphs in the Jay report (they had not read the report at that stage, so I paraphrased Jay but referred specifically to the Barnardo’s scoring system, which is well-known and in widespread use. These colleagues answered to the effect that the Barnardo’s scoring model is deficient not just because it doesn’t, of itself, allow for professional judgment alongside the scoring, but that professional judgment is actively excluded by the insistence on the need, within the scoring process, for concrete evidence.
The (recent) example I was given of a teenage girl who had been found by police (involved in other crime detection work) on an edge-of-town caravan park, miles from home, and in a place unfamiliar to her family. There was no evidence that she was on that night subject to sexual exploitation and so, despite the putting of two and two together by social workers, the risk assessment as scored downplayed a risk obvious to pretty well everybody involved in the case.
It is not always thus. One of the local authorities that my work connects with had looked at the Barnardo’s mode in the mid-2000s and, because they remained open to some real frontline social worker interaction, had chosen not to go with the ‘best practice’ Barnardo’s model, but instead asked frontline social workers to develop their own model for standardised assessment.
What to make of all this? Well, the first thing to mention is the level of control that Barnado’s, a voluntary sector organisation dominated by a controversial Chief Executive, appear to have had not only over Rotherham but across a swathe of local authorities in England. While a voluntary organisation in legal definition, Barnardo’s size and capacity to undercut smaller organisations and in-house provision, combined with its clever marketing means that it has become something of an untouchable. Even here, where the finger has been pointed at Barnardo’s for the introduction of a scoring model which is demonstrably not ‘best practice’, or even good practice, the (otherwise very good) Rotherham Council response to the Jay report continues to refer to it in these hallowed terms, and to make clear that it use will continue. Here is not the place to delve in detail into the relationship between Barnardo’s (and its arc-rival NCH) and the state, but it is worth stressing that if you are going to act effectively as an arm of the state, then you really need to be held to the same standards as the state. On this occasion, at least, this hasn’t happened.
The second, broader, point to make about this section of the Jay report is that, while Jay set out well the way frontline social worker were subject to managerialist influences to the detriment of their professional judgement , she probably fails to reach the correct conclusions on the basis of these findings. Instead of pointing out how the managerialism which spread across local authorities in the 1990s and 2000s at the expense of professional autonomy – some of this because of contracting out to bodies like Barnardo’s – may have caused the practice failures she uncovers, Jay instead opts for another broad explanatory factor: the aggressive. ‘macho’ culture which dominated the council in the same period. Yet no direct link is apparent between this macho culture and poor practice outcomes for children.
It seems to me that a more indirect explanation is brought forward while an indirect one is ignored, either because it is inconvenient or – I suspect more likely – the idea that managerialism night be a problem lies beyond Professor Jay’s conceptual paradigm of how a local authority should operate. This is not to say that councillor and senior officer misogyny and aggression did played no part in what happened, but it is also possible that this cultural aspect of the council’s failure was fed and watered by the ideological and institutional factors which came into local government from Thatcher onwards, whereby management efficiencies become more important than professional relationships in a way which then fostered ‘black box’-style – I don’t care how the target is met, just meet the target – approaches to management .
Again, this is not just esoteric wondering about the background causes to the Rotherham failures; establishing why the failures happened is essential to ensuring that they don’t happen in future. If the public eqnuiry on which Professor Jay will act as a key adviser and is chaired by a key proponent of privatization, accepts her analysis that macho, male-dominated councils are at the heart of the problem, then the solution will lie in human resources practice to ensure that more women are in top positions and /or that macho practice is trained and developed out of people. If, as I contend we should, the key problem is actually that professional autonomy has been stripped away from professionals (and from professional training), then the answers lie elsewhere. This will be a key battleground in the inquiry process, but at the moment the managerialists hold the higher ground.
That’s enough for part 2. Part 3, covering the key conceptual failure of the Jay report, and recommendations for action on the part of those willing to think and act in the interests of children, as opposed to the need to be seen to be angry, will follow soon.
 There is a straight analogy with the application of English law here. The basic principle is that an offender is prosecuted for an offence, not for the type of offender s/he is, although when assessing the level of offence it is leigtimate to take into account other offences committed to establing an offending pattern. It seems odd therefore, for people interested in ‘British values’ to be arguing that there should be a focus on offender profiling rather than offence profiling when it comes to CSE.
 Another question arises here about the ‘issue of ethnicity”: if CSE were in fact ethnic culture-driven, rather than circumstance-driven, what would we actually do about it? Is Jay actually suggesting that priority should be given to changing culture in some way, over and above measures to intervene tactically in the circumstances which we know actually create CSE opportunities? If so, this would seem to be anti-PC gone maaaad, a desperate attempt to paficy the Islam-correlates-with-rape crowd at the expense of children’s futures?
 It occurs to me that this may seem like too strong a defence of frontline social workers. After all, whatever managerialist influences they were subject to, they are still professionals, with professional standards, so should n’t we have expected them to stand up better to their bosses. The answer to this question is yes, we should, but my argument here (as elsewhere) is that moral condemnation of staff – and their sacking – does nothing about professional competence in the long term; we need to establish why and how professional didn’t feel able to act up to professional standards, and a failure to do so will be a like act of gross political failure (as well as failure in social work training, which i’ll cover in part 3)
Here is not the place to go into loss of professional ethics and standards in detail, other than to say that there is a rich seam of ressearch literature on the subject, for those politically professional enough to engage with it. It’s called, broadly, Implementation Studies, and starts with the seminal work of Michael Lipsky (1980), which details how frontline professionals move, in certain circumstances, from autonomy and advocacy towards alienation and disregard for their clients as whole human beings. It ends, for me at least for now, with this detailed qualitiative study of how even Finnish welfare professionals are subject to managerialism and see their work get worse as a result.
 The best read I know on this post-Thatcher trend, other than Chris Dillow’s book, is Gerry Stoker’s (2004) Transforming Local Governance: From Thatcherism to New Labour. Here’s how he summaries managerialism:
Managerialism……..began in the 1980s and 1990s to take an increasingly strong hold in local government. This ideology saw political leadership as important in setting direction but beyond that a potential source of inefficiency. Politicians should set goals but not dictate the means to achieve them. The key to managerialism is its emphasis on the right of managers to mange against inappropriate interference from politicians or, for that matter, the special pleading of professional groups (p.13, my italics)
I try not to join in twitterstorms, but the one about Michael Fabricant MP’s threat to punch a woman in the throat does bring with it an interesting question.
Why the throat? Why not the more common concept of a punch to the face or the nose?
Domestic violence-focused literature more than hints at a possible reason: this study finds that 68% in the ( fairly small) sample of women who suffered domestic violence have suffered from strangulation, and here’s one showing that violent death by strangulation is 6 times more likely for women than men.
The Fabricant tweet may reflect less sudden rage, and more a desire to subjugate, control and make defenceless, and be specific to women. That’s what makes the tweet more disturbing.
Now, I’m not suggesting that Fabricant is someone prone to violence against women, and of course punching is not strangling.. But I am suggesting that, as part of his making amends as best as he can, he might want to explore why he wanted to go for the throat, and make that exploration public. That might be a useful service.