Women: Contribution to Economic Life

Baroness Bakewell Excerpts

Thursday 6th March 2014 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Bakewell (Lab)]

My Lords, it gives me great pleasure to speak immediately after such an excellent maiden speech from the noble Lord, Lord Palumbo. It is great that he chose such a debate—it was rather bold of him—and very indicative of his business acumen that he should be contemplating the appointment that we would all welcome among his senior staff.

Today we have heard lots of statistics and a scattering of percentages, full of aspiration and achievements so far, and I commend my fellow Peers on the range of subjects that they have already covered, praising things that have gone well and expressing widespread concern for remaining issues. I will take a different, slightly lighter note.

I will begin by celebrating a single overarching triumphant professional success. The novelist JK Rowling has now earned her way to being the richest working woman in the country. She is currently worth £220 million and last year earned £45.5 million—not bad for someone who trusted to her own talent and began her first fiction at a table in a café in Edinburgh.

Now I want to celebrate some less well known names: a group of women, some of whom your Lordships may have heard of and others you may well not have. They do not earn a great deal of money—yet. Indeed, their chosen path has often involved denying themselves any kind of decent living as they struggle to get started. They are not household names—yet—but their influence is manifold, and I will explain why. I refer to the surprising blossoming and coming to top professional recognition of a whole swathe of women playwrights. This has happened in the past 10 years or so, encouraged by a background of arts funding in this country that allows for the experiment, daring and risk-taking that a fully commercial theatre world would never make possible.

I will name some names. The grandmother of them all is probably Caryl Churchill. She is now 74 and she established an international reputation in 1972 with her inspirational play, “Top Girls”, at London’s Royal Court Theatre. This sensational work broke new ground in dealing directly and vividly with the situation of women in society. Many of these young writers do the same. Nina Raine is the author of a searing, witty and critical look at the National Health Service. April de Angelis is the author of “Jumpy”, a play starring Tamsin Grieg, currently in the West End. debbie tucker green won an Olivier award in 2003. Polly Stenham’s first play, “The Face”, written in her early 20s, transferred to the West End and then to Broadway and won a shoal of awards. Laura Wade’s play “Posh”, a satire on a club not unlike the Bullingdon, was a West End hit. Lucy Prebble wrote “Enron”, a hilarious and clever take on the Enron scandal—you could not get a ticket. Lucy Kirkwood, Bola Agbaje and Abi Morgan are of that number, as are Sarah Daniels, Helen Edmundson—your Lordships get the idea. Rebecca Lenkiewicz was the first woman to have an original play, “Her Naked Skin”, performed on the National Theatre’s main stage. Moira Buffini’s play “Handbagged” is coming to the West End.

All those primarily young women write of the world they know and as women in that world. They are significant in two ways. First, they put ideas into circulation: ideas about women, their rights, lives, problems, humour and situations. Those ideas are not only entertaining in themselves but are challenging for the audiences who see them and spill out into the world beyond to families, communities and public life. They help shape and change national attitudes.

Their second significance is in contributing to the thriving cultural industry of this country. The turnover of the arts last year was £12.4 billion. Despite the economic downturn, the arts economy did not suffer; it kept on growing. There are many women among its leaders. Women run the Donmar Warehouse, the Tricycle Theatre, the Liverpool Playhouse, the Royal Court Theatre, the British Film Institute, Film4 Productions, the Whitechapel Gallery, the Serpentine Gallery, Tate Modern and the South Bank arts complex, and they do this with the overt and positive encouragement of their male colleagues. It is an ongoing and impressive story of creative and economic success.

There is a completely different story of success that I think we should remark on. It is totally unlike the bright lights of the theatre but it is a success that contributes some £119 billion to the economy, not in direct earnings and income but in economic value to the country. There are some 7 million carers in this country, many offering their care totally freely, others in receipt of a derisory carer’s allowance. Unpaid carers are the backbone of our health and social care system: it would collapse without them. Now, 58% of those carers are women. Women have a 50:50 chance of becoming a carer by the time they are 59; for men, it is not until they are 75. Many of them give up work in order to care. It is this cohort of women, mostly in their 50s, who, in giving up their working lives, indirectly contribute to the saving of £119 billion for the country. They deserve our respect.

[Baroness Uddin (Non-Afl)]

My Lords, it is an immense privilege to take part in this debate. We are treading the courageous path of brave women and we are emboldened by their struggles and confidence. It is a pleasure to follow the noble Baroness, Lady Bakewell. I would have added Gurinder Chadha and Meera Syal—

[Baroness Bakewell]

And Lolita Chakrabarti.

[Baroness Uddin]

—to her illustrious list of those who have contributed immensely to the arts.

I speak today in recognition of the centuries-long struggle by women to participate freely and equally in the workplace. When New York’s garment workers took to the streets on 8 March 1857 to demonstrate for a 10-hour day, better conditions and equal rights, they inspired the first International Women’s Day half a century later. Remembering their march, I also remember the more than 1,000 women who perished only last year in the Dhaka factory disaster. We continue to mark the day, not out of nostalgia but because we are still plagued by inequality and injustice in all our worlds.

Too many women want to work but are prevented from contributing as fully to the economy as they wish. I have spoken in this Chamber on a number of occasions about the fact that only a quarter of Bangladeshi and Pakistani women are economically active. That is a terrible waste of talent. At Questions we spoke about the role of women in public life. I want to trade some statistics with your Lordships. There are about 300,000 Bangladeshi women who are British citizens and not one of them has made it to the Benches opposite. I hope that the noble Baronesses, Lady Jenkin and Lady Northover, will do something to address the lack of Bangladeshi women on their Benches.

This is not just a question of prosperity for our country but is about justice for women. We cannot have whole communities of women excluded from our mainstream institutions and workplaces. Over the past year, I talked with a number of women’s groups that visited Parliament and asked their views on why women feel excluded from the workplace. The reasons they provided are not new. Many face social, cultural and institutional barriers. Many say they are not qualified or educated enough or do not have access to adequate childcare. The Family and Childcare Trust revealed only this Tuesday that on average the annual cost of childcare exceeds the repayments on a mortgage. As childcare costs soar, women are pushed out of the workforce to care for their families or into other caring responsibilities. Many will never return full-time, at a cost to their career progression and our economy.

Many women, including those from minority communities, who care for children or adults with disabilities face insurmountable obstacles and prejudice that prevent them working. It has been mentioned that nearly 7 million carers—nearly one-10th of the population of England and Wales—provide unpaid care for a disabled family member or friend. We know that the majority of them are women. They make a huge contribution to the economy as well as enhance the quality of the lives of those for whom they provide care. We have come a long way in providing safety nets within the framework of the law and have countless examples of good facilities in the education and childcare sector. Yet so often parents hesitate to explore outside work, lacking confidence that those they care for are in safe hands. There is a huge disparity between the intentions and rhetoric of institutions and service providers on the one hand, and the reality on the ground and the experience of carers and people with disability or disadvantage on the other.

I speak from personal experience as the mother of an autistic son. We have struggled for more than three decades and I confess that it has been without any support or co-operation from the education system or local authority. I have been fortunate to have support from my husband and I managed, mostly badly, a full-time career. Too many others are not so fortunate and paid work and caring responsibilities are often incompatible. The National Autistic Society discovered that a third of carers under the age of 40 would like to work but feel unable to do so. I know that many employers have adapted good practice in enabling flexibilities in their workplace to accommodate carers’ particular needs but this is not universal. Do the Minister and her department have statistics on how many parents with disabilities or disabled children work in the department? What lessons, if any, can we impart to others as good practice?

There has also been remarkable progress about working hours even in this House. I recall my early experience of this House when motherhood and childcare were absent from Parliament’s cultural DNA. A number of noble Lords here today will recall when a number of us made our maiden speeches about family-friendly policies in the House. I think that began at 10.40 pm and finished about 12.40 at night. When I brought in my then seven or eight month-old son for one hour on the first day I arrived here, the following morning a newspaper reported it as a slur on the professionalism of the House. Little known at the time or since is that as I was breast-feeding the entire side of my shalwar kameez was wet and it got on to the table. I have often wondered what the newspapers would have made out of that. The following morning, the honourable Black Rod promptly came over as soon as I entered the House and gave me a key. He said: “Here, Baroness Uddin—a key to the House’s family room we have just made for you downstairs, off the Peers’ Entrance”. Needless to say, I have never brought my son in since then or used that room. It was such a harsh lesson. I am glad to say that children can now accompany noble Lords—their parents—through the Lobby when we divide. That is, even symbolically, a definite triumph.

Like thousands of others, my family had to adapt all aspects of our lives in light of our son’s autism. We encountered a system of social care unresponsive to his and our needs and unwelcoming of us as carers. Securing the support of social services demands the tenacity to navigate a labyrinthine system and strength to endure scepticism and delay. Accessing these services while caring for a disabled person can be a full-time job. Our failure to serve the needs of those with disabilities and those who care for them comes at a human cost and with misery, as well as causing economic disadvantage. We as a family just gave up and opted out of the system into the family support structure—which was often at breaking point.

That is not an option for all and there have been many tragedies. Let us not forget the tragic case of Fiona Pilkington and her daughter Francesca Hardwick, a person with severe learning disabilities who suffered bullying and harassment. The failure of institutions and society overall to protect her family meant that Fiona Pilkington chose death for herself and her beloved daughter. In a civilised nation, that woman’s choice of suicide and death is a profound indictment of our support for society’s most vulnerable. How will the Government improve daycare for people with disabilities—autism in particular—to better enable their mothers and carers to pursue paid work where they desire, without putting into jeopardy the well-being of those they care for?

Finally, how do the Government intend to increase the employment prospects of Muslim women, who remain in the periphery of our society and are so poorly represented in the workforce, institutions and the boardroom? Will the Minister agree to meet the British Bangladesh Chamber of Women Entrepreneurs, which is working towards addressing some of these goals?

As a House, we are vocally committed to freeing women from violence, forced marriages and female genital mutilation but pay too little attention to the part that poor education and lack of economic independence play in these scourges. Debarring women or carers from opportunities for paid employment is a matter of not only individual interest but national prosperity. Without addressing these questions, we will hold a large number of women back from making their rightful contribution to our economy. Yes, we celebrate today the record proportion of women in the country who work and are in positions of authority. Long may that emancipation continue and widen. I salute those women who have blazed the trail of equality and justice for us all. Now we must be brazen about demanding the changes required. Above all, we must acknowledge that our economy and the fabric of our society will benefit exponentially when we are inclusive of all our countrywomen.