The Bleeding Heart Show

Domestic violence: whose problem is it?

In a previous post, which suggested a few measures government could take to reduce domestic violence (or at the very least improve care for its victims), I mentioned the necessity for greater provision of refuges where women could seek shelter from their tormentors. Conveniently, this survey by the Equality and Human Rights Commission details the extent of the current provision – or lack thereof – and produces some quite troubling figures.

The commission found that one in four local authorities in Britain has no specialised support services whatsoever, that a quarter of the rape crisis centres which do exist fear closure or cuts in funding, and that ethnic minority women – whose circumstances can be slightly different due to the intersection of culture, relgion and misogyny – are particularly poorly-served by current provision. In short, we’re just not doing enough to care for victims.

To put this right, the EHRC has decided to write to those local authorities which don’t provide a specialised service and warned that the commission may take them to court for breaching the 2006 Equality Act, which requires them to promote gender equality. They argue that “because violence against women is such a major cause of women’s inequality, public bodies should ensure adequate support for women in such circumstances.”

Even if the commission did take these councils to court, it’s not a foregone conclusion that they’d prove why their interpretation of the act is correct, and I’ll leave that question in the hands of those more well-versed in British law. But just assuming the commission isn’t able to force councils into action through the courts, is there a case for legally mandating councils to provide shelter for victims of domestic violence?

It’s certainly possible to construct a compelling case for why they should. A quarter of all women and 15% of men will be victims of abuse at some stage of their lives, two women a week are killed by current or former partners and an incident of abuse is reported to the police every minute. On top of the misery & pain it causes, domestic violence also costs public services an estimated £3bn a year, and costs the wider economy an estimated (and eye-watering) £23bn. If shelters/crisis centres could contribute just a little to reducing the costs to the state and the wider economy, they would prove not just morally essential, but fiscally sensible.

Equally, though, one could argue that the burden for providing such centres shouldn’t be placed on already-overstretched local authorities. Whilst it’s unacceptable for victims to have to make 120-mile round trips just to receive counselling, it’s also true that the demand for these services is going to be slightly less pronounced in areas like Teesdale (population 25,000) than in Kirklees (population 400,000). When you have councils which vary dramatically in size, resources and demographics, it’s slightly absurd to expect them to all provide the same level of support for victims, irrespective of whether that effectively meets demand.

All of which might suggest that the buck should stop with central government. I think it’s reasonable to conclude that through smart planning, a government which was committed to increasing the number of crisis centres could target them effectively to where they’re most needed. Whilst this might mean that there isn’t a shelter in each local authority, it could at least ensure they’d have less far to travel, and that the centres themselves don’t live under constant threat of financial failure.

Either way, we’re failing to support the victims of domestic violence as well as we could. In 1984, there were 64 rape crisis centres. In 2008, there were just 36, and those that remain are fighting for their survival. If this government – apparently so concerned with helping the victims of crime that they’ve appointed their own chief victim – means what it says, it could redouble its commitment to reducing domestic violence by ensuring that all its victims have a safe place to stay, recover and rebuild their lives.

“British jobs for British workers”

A few weeks ago, Chris Dillow warned of some of the nasty social side-effects of the recession. He noted that  “the main effect of recession is not to cause poverty, but insecurity. And when people are insecure and anxious, they care less for others.” In short, fear makes us all more selfish.

On one level, what’s transpired in Immingham over the last few days has been the opposite of that stark prediction. The unofficial walk-out by employees at an oil refinery – protesting their company’s decision to employ foreign labour – was an act of solidarity, not selfishness. Whilst many fear their own jobs are at risk in the future (at the moment, who isn’t afraid of that?), this protest wasn’t  driven by self-interest, but by concern for the skilled workers who could’ve been spared a winter of unemployment if the company had decided to ‘buy British’.

In the current instability, it might’ve been more sensible to keep their heads down and grumble in private, but they felt strongly enough to withdraw their labour, and their actions resonated so much that they were joined by workers from other sites, swelling the number of protesters to over 800. In this sense, the bonds of class solidarity remain as strong as they were at the height of the trade union movement.

But at another, much darker level, what this incident shows is the extent to which the recession is fostering nationalism & division. Whilst Baroness Vadera expressed optimism about the ‘green shoots‘ of recovery, in Immingham and towns right across the country, the only ‘green shoots’ are of a resentment which is increasingly being trained on foreign workers. Outside the refinery, one protester used a mantra uttered by both nationalists and one Labour Prime Minister: “British jobs for British workers”. It’s not as if they were loved in the past, but now is not a good time to be an economic migrant.

With elections around the corner, this climate of anxiety, decay and resentment is the perfect breeding ground for new recruits to the BNP. This time around, their line of attack will be more compelling than ever: “they’ve given all your money to rich bankers, they’ve sold all the jobs to foreigners and what do you get in return? Months stewing in James Purnell’s new Job Centres. Vote for us and we’ll put YOU first”. This time around, those who’re tirelessly trying to stem the BNP’s advance will find it especially tough; when mainstream politics carries such a the stench of failure, just what are we meant to say to them?

So I don’t begrudge Lindsey Oil Refinery for awarding a contract to a foreign company, I don’t begrudge the employees for protesting against the use of foreign labour and I don’t begrudge the Italians for going where the work is. No, right now the only people whose actions I begrude are swanning around some souped-up ski resort in Switzerland. I begrudge the complacency, the colossal mistakes, and the effect that those mistakes are having on the society the rest of us have to live in.

Ultimately, Dillow was right, and I’ve never wished for anyone to be more wrong.