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The writer, chair of the UK’s Social Mobility Commission, is principal and chief executive of Blackpool and the Fylde College
Ben is 20 and living in a homeless hostel in Blackpool. I first met him when I joined Blackpool and the Fylde College last summer. He told me how he had been asked to leave the family home, ending up in a temporary shelter, surrounded by adults with serious drug and alcohol problems. He had completed a course at college before his life got derailed — now he was keen to get back on track and return to his studies. His ambition was to get a flat and a decent job, and have a “proper” family.
This story is unfortunately all too familiar — and a good illustration of what conventional social mobility policy gets wrong. Had Ben been more academically successful, a host of charities would have been thrilled to have him on their programmes, offering coaching, help with university applications, interviews and visits, with a network of supportive “champions” and anything else his background failed to provide.
But he does not fit this profile. And in sharp contrast to “widening participation” initiatives, which encourage university entrance, support for people like Ben is sparse and messy. The government calls them “Neets” (not in employment, education or training) and this group of nearly 1mn — that’s one in every eight 16- to 24-year-olds — is growing.
There is no obvious network of charities championing Neets and public interventions are fragmented. Responsibility for identifying and supporting 16- to 19-year-old Neets into education and training sits with local authorities, which have little capacity to design or deliver interventions. Meanwhile, 19- to 24-year-olds are under the Department for Work and Pensions, a completely different agency with a limited “service” directing them to work or training. It falls well short of what these young people need to start a working life.
Across the country there will be numerous brave efforts at help. But such initiatives have none of the resources of social mobility charities for disadvantaged students who are academically able. Even if they did, there is no easy way to address challenges such as the breakdown of families and communities.
The post-industrial age has brought widespread social change, which cities have been better equipped to respond to than towns. The old notion of “community” does not hold for many.
In Blackpool, there is a strong visitor economy and encouraging signs of regeneration. But it also has the legacy of former guest houses — multiple-occupancy dwellings and poor-quality private rented housing are subsidised by our dysfunctional welfare system. Leaving his family plunged Ben into this murky world: for a young person, a host of risks involving alcohol, drugs and crime can undermine their potential to do well.
So the social mobility barriers in the UK are much more complex and difficult than the mainstream debate implies. In our recent report, “Innovation Generation”, we called for policies to promote social mobility to be aligned with the real challenges, starting with geographical disparities. Education is always important and not just for developing skills. Universities translate research into business applications and new ecosystems that support enterprise right across the country, which all improve local life chances. But they are not enough on their own — family and community are so influential in shaping individual outcomes. This is a big agenda, but would genuinely improve opportunities for the majority.
If Ben was the only one who needed help, then ours might be sufficient. We found a friendly employer prepared to give him a chance. It is now up to him to keep turning up and to see the importance of this stepping stone. But open-minded employers can only do their bit in a supportive environment.
