The West Midlands needs to address its dismal employment rates

Birmingham looking festive. Image: Getty.

With the Midlands Engine policy, Joseph Chamberlain’s legacy being back in vogue and – perhaps most notably – CityMetric’s recent tour around the area, the West Midlands is finally getting the attention it deserves. Over the next few months, the run-up to the election of a metro mayor in the West Midlands Combined Authority (WMCA) should mean even more thought is given to what’s needed to help the region thrive.

And top of that list should be turning around its dismal employment performance.

The West Midlands’ rusty jobs machine isn’t a new problem, as a report published this week by the Resolution Foundation highlights. In the years leading up to the financial crisis, the conurbation’s employment rate remained stubbornly low compared to other city regions.

And while the recovery has seen the proportion of people in work nationally rising to record levels, the West Midlands still hasn’t got back to where it was, with an employment rate of just 64.5 per cent compared to 71.6 per cent across all the city regions.

The WMCA is made up of Birmingham, Coventry, Dudley, Sandwell, Solihull, Walsall and Wolverhampton – diverse areas with different histories and populations. But bar Solihull, each of those local authorities has an employment rate below the average across the UK’s other city regions. A cross-city plan is needed.

The big challenge for the new mayor, along with other local leaders and central government, is helping people from groups that have traditionally been disadvantaged in the labour market to find work. That doesn’t mean that we should expect, say, people with disabilities to have identical employment rates to the rest of the country. But the gap between the kinds of workers who tend to be in employment whatever the economic weather – in their thirties or forties, highly-educated – and these disadvantaged groups is significantly larger in the WMCA than in other city regions. Targeted support designed to help some of those groups that fare worst in the the region – younger workers, those with low qualifications and people from BAME backgrounds – could make a meaningful contribution.

Of course, it’s not enough to just think about potential employees: the kinds of jobs and sectors setting up in the city region are crucial too. The WMCA can be rightly proud of its industrial heritage, still evident today with companies like Jaguar Land Rover. And while a higher share of the WMCA’s workforce are employed in manufacturing, it’s still only 13 per cent. The city region should also look to expand into more “jobs-rich” areas such as the high value services sector. When it comes to industrial strategy, it should be proud of, but not constrained by, its past.


And hand in hand with attracting those sorts of jobs is having workers with the right skills. Qualification levels in the WMCA are below average. Despite having one of the highest proportions of students among city regions, it has trouble retaining them once they graduate, with fewer staying on than in Bristol or Manchester. More high-skilled jobs would help – but it’s worth thinking too about what those other “stickier” cities offer and how the WMCA can mark itself out and tap into the asset of its large student population.

While the mayor will have powers that can make a real difference, a shared focus with central government and other leaders in the West Midlands will be needed to boost employment. But with a targeted, ambitious plan that puts jobs growth at its heart, there’s every reason to hope that the West Midlands will be talked about for all the right reasons for years to come.

Conor D'arcy is a policy analyst at the Resolution Foundation.

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What does the fate of Detroit tell us about the future of Silicon Valley?

Detroit, 2008. Image: Getty.

There was a time when California’s Santa Clara Valley, bucolic home to orchards and vineyards, was known as “the valley of heart’s delight”. The same area was later dubbed “Silicon Valley,” shorthand for the high-tech combination of creativity, capital and California cool. However, a backlash is now well underway – even from the loyal gadget-reviewing press. Silicon Valley increasingly conjures something very different: exploitation, excess, and elitist detachment.

Today there are 23 active Superfund toxic waste cleanup sites in Santa Clara County, California. Its culture is equally unhealthy: Think of the Gamergate misogynist harassment campaigns, the entitled “tech bros” and rampant sexism and racism in Silicon Valley firms. These same companies demean the online public with privacy breaches and unauthorised sharing of users’ data. Thanks to the companies’ influences, it’s extremely expensive to live in the area. And transportation is so clogged that there are special buses bringing tech-sector workers to and from their jobs. Some critics even perceive threats to democracy itself.

In a word, Silicon Valley has become toxic.

Silicon Valley’s rise is well documented, but the backlash against its distinctive culture and unscrupulous corporations hints at an imminent twist in its fate. As historians of technology and industry, we find it helpful to step back from the breathless champions and critics of Silicon Valley and think about the long term. The rise and fall of another American economic powerhouse – Detroit – can help explain how regional reputations change over time.

The rise and fall of Detroit

The city of Detroit became a famous node of industrial capitalism thanks to the pioneers of the automotive age. Men such as Henry Ford, Horace and John Dodge, and William Durant cultivated Detroit’s image as a centre of technical novelty in the early 20th century.

The very name “Detroit” soon became a metonym for the industrial might of the American automotive industry and the source of American military power. General Motors president Charles E. Wilson’s remark that, “For years I thought what was good for our country was good for General Motors, and vice versa,” was an arrogant but accurate account of Detroit’s place at the heart of American prosperity and global leadership.

The public’s view changed after the 1950s. The auto industry’s leading firms slid into bloated bureaucratic rigidity and lost ground to foreign competitors. By the 1980s, Detroit was the image of blown-out, depopulated post-industrialism.

In retrospect – and perhaps as a cautionary tale for Silicon Valley – the moral decline of Detroit’s elite was evident long before its economic decline. Henry Ford became famous in the pre-war era for the cars and trucks that carried his name, but he was also an anti-Semite, proto-fascist and notorious enemy of organised labor. Detroit also was the source of defective and deadly products that Ralph Nader criticized in 1965 as “unsafe at any speed”. Residents of the region now bear the costs of its amoral industrial past, beset with high unemployment and poisonous drinking water.


A new chapter for Silicon Valley

If the story of Detroit can be simplified as industrial prowess and national prestige, followed by moral and economic decay, what does that say about Silicon Valley? The term “Silicon Valley” first appeared in print in the early 1970s and gained widespread use throughout the decade. It combined both place and activity. The Santa Clara Valley, a relatively small area south of the San Francisco Bay, home to San Jose and a few other small cities, was the base for a computing revolution based on silicon chips. Companies and workers flocked to the Bay Area, seeking a pleasant climate, beautiful surroundings and affordable land.

By the 1980s, venture capitalists and companies in the Valley had mastered the silicon arts and were getting filthy, stinking rich. This was when “Silicon Valley” became shorthand for an industrial cluster where universities, entrepreneurs and capital markets fuelled technology-based economic development. Journalists fawned over successful companies like Intel, Cisco and Google, and analysts filled shelves with books and reports about how other regions could become the “next Silicon Valley”.

Many concluded that its culture set it apart. Boosters and publications like Wired magazine celebrated the combination of the Bay Area hippie legacy with the libertarian individualism embodied by the late Grateful Dead lyricist John Perry Barlow. The libertarian myth masked some crucial elements of Silicon Valley’s success – especially public funds dispersed through the U.S. Defense Department and Stanford University.

The ConversationIn retrospect, perhaps that ever-expanding gap between Californian dreams and American realities led to the undoing of Silicon Valley. Its detachment from the lives and concerns of ordinary Americans can be seen today in the unhinged Twitter rants of automaker Elon Musk, the extreme politics of PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel, and the fatuous dreams of immortality of Google’s vitamin-popping director of engineering, Ray Kurzweil. Silicon Valley’s moral decline has never been clearer, and it now struggles to survive the toxic mess it has created.

Andrew L. Russell, Dean, College of Arts & Sciences; Professor of History, SUNY Polytechnic Institute and Lee Vinsel, Assistant Professor of Science and Technology Studies, Virginia Tech.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.