The plight of London's young working class men

Later in life young men are 22 times more likely than women to end up in prison, with the odds stacked even more against men from minority ethnic backgrounds (who are over-represented in prison populations and who, according to findings from the Lammy Review, are more likely to be given harsher sentences than their white counterparts). All of this has a devastating impact on lives. In 2019, men accounted for about three-quarters of suicides and in 2020 male suicide rates hit a 20-year high.

The economic and political fallout of the pandemic will only make life harder for men like Scott who, despite his young years, uses two hands to count the different phases of his life. There is his childhood living just off Holloway Road, up until his mum’s death when he was 10. The four foster homes that he moved between as a teenager. The six months he spent in a young offenders institute. The period living with his grandmother in Croydon — a particularly lonely time, he says, away from his friends and his home boroughs (‘I felt like I had no one at that point’). And finally, the past two years working in a sporting goods shop back in north London, where he now lives. He ascended the ranks from sales assistant to manager in just 18 months. ‘And then in the summer I was made redundant,’ he explains. ‘There’s a lot of bad luck around right now.’

That’s one way of putting it. There are no winners in the coronavirus economic lottery but for young, working-class people, the losses are greater and more acutely felt. Those under 24 will bear the brunt of job losses and suffer the worst of the wage scarring (the term used to describe the financial penalty that workers who begin their careers in a recession tend to incur). Moreover, as Kathleen Henehan, senior research and policy analyst at the Resolution Foundation points out, thanks to Covid-19, ‘People leaving school after their GCSE year are 30 per cent less likely to be in a job two years from now’ (though it hardly seems better for those currently trapped in student halls, racking up mountains of debt in exchange for online courses). Young people always take the biggest hit during any recession, but the difference now is that the worst-affected industries — hospitality and retail — are those that traditionally offer many their first tentative step into the world of work. ‘Close to 40 per cent of young non-grads work in one of the sectors that has been shut down,’ adds Henehan. ‘In a sense their first rung on the employment ladder has been broken.’

As Scott puts it, ‘If you were struggling before, now it feels like your air is being cut off…’ Before summer, he had been saving up for a personal training qualification; now, though, that money has mostly been eaten up by rent and household bills. His girlfriend is due to give birth to their first child in January. She has a job doing admin for a small business but her company only offers statutory maternity pay. ‘I’m looking forward to being a dad,’ says Scott. ‘Even though it’s sometimes an overwhelming thought. The idea of being a provider still exists. And that’s the part that plays on my mind: the fear that I’ll let my family down.’

Twenty-year-old Ismaaeel, from Newham, is just as consumed with fear about how to pay the bills. Last year he began working as a desk assistant and porter at The Langham hotel in Marylebone. At the beginning of summer, though, he was put on furlough and last month, made redundant. He gives a dry laugh. ‘Unlucky is one way to put it. Day-to-day now is just waking up and exercising to keep my mind motivated and on the right path. And of course I’m applying for jobs every day, wherever I can.’ So far he hasn’t had any replies. ‘It’s frustrating,’ he says. ‘I’m really looking; I’m not staying at home all day, doing nothing. I’m being proactive. So it is disappointing… yeah. It is a struggle financially but I haven’t applied for universal credit yet…’

Ismaaeel found his job at The Langham after completing a month-long training programme with Springboard UK, an organisation that helps people launch their careers in the hospitality industry. As Chris Gamm, Springboard’s chief executive, points out, roughly 30,000 young people each year go to work in hospitality. ‘Of course the jobs just aren’t there at the moment,’ he says, sighing.

Twenty-five-year-old Lucas* lives in Hackney and manages a street food market in south London. He found his way into the hospitality industry after being released from prison, aged 21. ‘I started when I was 13 or 14, petty crimes, drug deals… 17 was the first time I was caught and sent to an institute but when I came out I continued to live the same life. It wasn’t because of a lack of opportunity, there were good opportunities all around me,’ he says. ‘I just didn’t take them, I had another lifestyle in my mind. I was caught again at 19 and ended up coming out aged 21 — and that’s when I connected with Switchback.’ The charity works with young prison leavers, offering mentorships and work experience. ‘That was cool, a lot of people getting released haven’t really had a job before. Work experience gets you into that programme of waking up at 8am and going to work.’

He feels lucky to still have a job while others at his company have been made redundant but has found the uncertainty tough. ‘I think Covid has made a lot of people feel disposable in many ways.’ He explains that many of the men he knows work in labour-intensive industries that don’t support home working. ‘I know a lot of men who had to go out to work or they wouldn’t be paid. They had to risk their health, it definitely affected them mentally.’

‘Now my job keeps me rolling, keeps me in place,’ says Lucas. ‘It’s a reason to get out of bed and a reason to stay on the right path… it keeps me in line and a bit more stable. It keeps me motivated.’

For many others the present outlook is bleak: according to a 2016 literature review of 101 studies from multiple countries, economic recessions are significantly associated with poor mental well-being across the board, while a 2019 paper published in the British Journal of Psychiatry found recession-related increases in suicide among men who had previously reported ill mental health.

Historically, hard economic times have bred feelings of disenfranchisement and hopelessness, which have long been shown to have a toxic effect both on individuals and on society. Nana Agyeman, managing director of Access UK, a charity that provides an end-to-end careers service for young Londoners from Bame backgrounds, agrees. ‘To be brutally honest with you, a lot of the young black men we work with lacked confidence even before this. It is quite disheartening when you wake up every day to a continuous barrage of negative news about you; it takes a lot of mental resilience to stop you internalising it. Now there’s an added layer of isolation and worry about the future.’ Since the start of the Covid-19 crisis Agyeman has seen a spike in enquiries and calls for help, with beneficiaries asking not just for careers advice but also support with mental well-being. ‘There’s been a definite shift on the ground.’

Ismaaeel says right now, he just needs to make money. ‘I need to keep my head above water. So if I have to do something else, I will.’ He has been looking into plumbing or electrical qualifications if the hospitality industry continues to nosedive. Lucas is saving up to buy a house, though he doesn’t think that is possible in London. Scott, too, is thinking about the future. ‘I’m staying positive,’ he says. ‘I’m focusing on my family. I want to build a good life for them.’

*Some names have been changed