Features, Journalism

Climate of despair

It’s bad, isn’t it? That’s a good place to start. Acceptance. We’ve skipped right to the fifth stage of grief with that, so we’re doing well. It’s still bad though, all the same.

Just a few days ago, the IPCC report on climate change dropped into our lives like a frozen poo bomb flushed from a passing passenger jet. It was a clear guide to what we need to do to keep global warming to within safe levels and a clear statement of what will happen if we don’t.  

It explains that a rise of 2 degrees of global temperatures above pre-industrial levels would leave more than 400 million exposed to extreme heatwaves. It would destroy nearly all of the world’s coral reefs and lead to around 8% of the world’s population facing water shortages.

If we manage to keep global temperature increases to 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels, those numbers become less dramatic, but we’re likely to pass that threshold really soon. At some point between 2030 and 2052, in fact. Meanwhile, according to the International Energy Agency, global carbon emissions rose to record levels in 2018, after a period when emissions seemed to be plateauing.

In the short term, the IPCC report was a firm assertion that everything that seems to be going wrong, is going wrong.

Global temperatures are currently 1 degree above the time we started pumping huge amounts of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere nearly 200 hundred years ago and all those emissions having a noticeable impact.

As I write this, it’s 26 degrees in Paris. It’s October.

There were fires in the Arctic circle, this summer. As well as in California and across southern Europe. There were even fires in Saddleworth. Where ‘Brassed Off’ was filmed.

The climate scientist Michael Mann told me a few months ago. “I think people are now getting this at a gut level, as the tragedy of extreme weather events play out in real time on their television screens.”

We could solve all this if we took urgent action. But the public seems intent on electing people who absolutely will not do that.

Take Jair Bolsonaro, the likely next president of Brazil, who has campaigned for the job by loudly and proudly declaring, at every opportunity: “I am an arsehole”

In doing so he’s following the path to victory set out by Donald Trump. Maybe that’s what Steve Bannon has been telling Bolsonaro’s children. “Just act like a twat,” he whispers, Svengali-like, to the poundshop-Nazis he spends so much time meeting. That’s the Bannon magic.

At home, any political energy to address the impending climate chaos has been drained by Brexit.

Are we drunk? Is that it? Is all of humanity drunk?

We seem to be. We’re acting like we’ve just been dumped by our long-term partner, swaying in a bar we wouldn’t normally go to, encouraging colleagues we don’t like to have one more flaming sambuca shot.

“Oh, it’s not that late,” we all splutter, our drinks held aloft, before slipping on a bit of sick and setting our shirts on fire.

That’s where we are. Covered in sick. Too drunk to address the fact that we’re on fire. Where do we go from here?

I cover climate change. It’s basically my job. And lately I’ve had trouble sleeping.

From Twitter, it seems that I’m not alone. The rather brilliant activist Leo Murray responded to the IPCC report by tweeting: “As someone who has been a climate change activist, campaigner and sometime social entrepreneur for nearly 15 years now, at times like this I feel a crushing weight of personal failure at how little I have achieved, and dread at the horrors ahead. I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

It’s hard when current events match the turmoil in our internal worlds.

Everyday we’re wading through our own anxieties. Our work, our friends, our families, our relationships. On bad days these worries can overwhelm. The feeling that all the things we care about might spectacularly blow apart and leave us scrambling through the wreckage can be too much to bear. That’s pretty much adulthood.

It’s relatively easy, most of the time, to get out of this mindset. You can exercise, see a friend, go for a walk, get lost in some task. But how do you ease the worry that comes with impending ecological catastrophe?

Well there are reasons to be optimistic.

From rejecting jobs in the fossil fuels sector, to winning legal cases calling for companies and states to be held to account for failing to address global warming; the next generation seems imbued with a desire to do something to address the climate crisis.

There’s also the very real chance that the current political malaise won’t last forever. That the rise of autocratic and climate-denying regimes will be prevented and something different and progressive will come in their place.

The challenge of our changing climate can be met by a new politics that can greatly improve people’s lives.

Just as the challenge of fascism was met in the United States by the formation of the welfare state and the transformation of the role of government in the economy and in furthering justice and civil rights.

It’s not too late. We have a small window of opportunity. That’s something to focus on when we feel hopeless.

Out there in the world, there are millions of people who think like you. Millions who are angry about the state of the world and hungry for something new. Something that goes far beyond what is offered by the likes of Trump and Bolsonaro.

In the meantime, do what you would do when you feel worried about anything else. See a friend, hang out with the people you love. See something beautiful in the natural world. It will make you all the more determined to protect it.

It’s incumbent on all of us to sober up, put our shirt out, wipe the sick off our trousers and leave the bar. There’s work to do.

A version of  this article was published by the New Statesman on October 23, 2018 


Features, Journalism

Toward a new way of covering politics in the age of Corbyn

The disintegration of the Liberal Democrats, the SNPs surge in Scotland, the rise of UKIP, the Conservatives 2015 election win, and now the success of Jeremy Corbyn. When examining the significant political events of the last five years, one thing unites them all: the media didn’t see any of them coming.

Now with the press, having ignored their previous errors, predicting that Labour is ‘Red and Buried’ under Jeremy Corbyn, this failure demands explanation.

Why do our political journalists get so much wrong, so much of the time? The answer lies in the same place they find their news.

Back in June, the Sunday Times had a front page story of international significance. Under the headline ‘British spies betrayed to Russians and Chinese’, the newspaper reported that MI6 agents had been hastily reassigned after officials in enemy intelligence agencies cracked secret documents obtained by NSA whistleblower Edward Snowden.

Quite a scoop. But how did the Sunday Times reporter Tom Harper, who broke the story, come to know that the files had been breached by the Russians and Chinese?

“I don’t know the answer to that,” he told CNN.

What about the files? What did they contain?

“That’s not something we’re clear on, so we don’t go into that level of detail in the story,” he said, before adding. “We just publish what we believe to be the position of the British government at the moment.”

The Sunday Times had published a story on its front page seemingly without checking its most basic facts. The assumption seemed to be that if the government said it, it must be true.

Glenn Greenwald, the journalist who broke the Snowden story in 2013, dismissed the Sunday Times story as a “self-negating joke”.

As much as this sentiment breaks even the most the basic journalistic values, the truly shocking thing about it was just how common these stories are.

“It is by now well established,” begins American scholar W. Lance Bennett in his 1990 work ‘Towards an understanding of press-state relations in the United States’; “that the mass media in the US get most of its news from government officials.”

For America in 1990, we can read Britain in 2015.

Journalists working today have more work to do, less time to do it and fewer opportunities to make contacts.

In print journalism, where most stories in the broadcast media still originate, jobs are hard to come by, and redundancies are common. Those lucky enough to be in employment, work long and hard, with the development of online journalism and 24 hour news channels meaning articles have to be churned out at a rapid pace.

In local news, the situation is even more bleak, with newsrooms located far outside the area they’re supposed to be covering, occupied by too few trainees, earning too little money. The staff at the Islington Gazette recently moved nine miles outside Islington to Ilford. Their previous office was four miles away in Swiss Cottage.

By comparison, government communications teams, as with their corporate equivalents, are booming, and ready to fill in the gaps offered by overworked journalists. In the UK, even relatively minor government departments like the department of energy and climate change have more than 10 press officers, and a 24 hour phone line for emergency media enquiries.

The disintegration of local media and the under-staffing in national newsrooms, has left political hacks based in Westminster stuck to reporting almost exclusively on Westminster issues; filling in any blanks in their stories with the plethora of briefings from government press officers and communication officials in the less well-staffed opposition parties.

Added to this mix is an array of news agencies which have “accuracy” as their watchword, but choose to interpret the term loosely.

Reporters for these agencies, based firmly within the Westminster bubble, spend their days “accurately” and speedily noting down everything that is said, in parliament and in the media by leading politicians.

Their work then gets sent to news outlets and forms the basis of the stories we consume. The politicians being “accurately” quoted could be talking complete nonsense, but that doesn’t matter. As long as the spelling is correct, and the meaning is clear, these newswires have done their job. With no time to check facts, or think of new angles to tell the story, these journalists are left in a situation where they spend their days accurately copying down the inaccuracies of the political elite.

If this seems like an over-simplification, consider the ease with which the Conservative party was able to spin the election result in the immediate aftermath of May 7th.

After a campaign marked by almost historic negativity, in which the leader of the opposition was said to have stabbed his brother in the back and was set to connive against Britain’s interests with a load of dirty Scots, David Cameron declared “we’ve had a positive response to a positive campaign”, a line which led the news agenda the next day.

Days later, while announcing the most right-wing government programme in a generation, including a clampdown on trade unions so severe it was dubbed “Francoist” by one Conservative MP, the Chancellor George Osborne was able to call the Tories the “workers party”.

In Bennett’s theory, together with the idea that journalists get most of their news from the government, is the notion that opposition voices are only shown in the media at times of “elite dissensus”.

“Elite dissensus” is when the government and leading parties, and or leading figures within the government, disagree on key issues. In times of “elite consensus”, there is no opposition to speak of, and thus little is reported on. Those opposition voices outside parliament; NGOs, think tanks, university scholars, are either ignored, or given short-shrift.

With Labour in disarray after Ed Miliband’s resignation and their crushing defeat, no one was able to challenge the Tories rebrand as the “workers party”. Similarly voices of discontent are absent in reports on the government’s military strategy against Isis, or in the months after the 2010 election, the notion that Labour overspending caused the financial crash in 2008.

According to Bennett’s model, the media report the world as the political elite sees it. Today, with journalists unable to get a view of events outside London and other metropolitan areas due to the decline of the local press, this trend has intensified. Our media have failed to represent the world as it is because they report on a group, put into power with low turnout and high apathy, who are not representative.

Just as Corbyn has promised a “new kind of politics”, it is time for a new kind of political journalism.

We should change what we see as the political beat. Journalists should be encouraged to escape Westminster. New ways must be found for funding local journalism, so reporters can cover the council meetings, small-scale protests and community events that shape the world most people live in.

We should lose our obsession with speed, for speed’s sake and instead take time to think about not just what a minister is saying, but also why they are saying it.

Otherwise, when we’re asked to explain the next Corbyn moment, we’ll be echoing the words repeated by Harper in his CNN interview: “we don’t know”.

This piece was originally published by openDemocracy.

Interviews, Journalism

Nick Davies: ‘Julian Assange is fatally flawed’

When the press conference came, it was a bit of a non-event.

With news cameras and journalists poised both inside and outside the Ecuadorian embassy in London, they ended up having little to report. The man who had spent two years cooped up in a diplomatic building would not be coming out. He only said he would like to leave at some point; possibly quite soon.

It is testament to the achievements of Julian Assange that this banal announcement attracted so much interest from the world’s media. But the overwhelming story when it comes to the founder of Wikileaks is a depressing one.

Nick Davies, the journalist who persuaded Assange to publish the Wikileaks revelations in the Guardian, now describes him as a “fatally flawed character”.

“I’m not in contact with Assange,” he tells me. “I broke off contact with him back in the summer of 2010 in order to protest to him about the way he was behaving and also because I had to get back to the hacking story.”

“I think that he is brilliant and brave and dedicated, but fatally flawed as a character.

“At the time he was messing us about, I was angry with him. Now I just think it’s a tragic story of someone who is so brilliant, and yet he has made such a mess of his own creation and has ended up stuck in this embassy in the middle of London for more than two years. That didn’t have to happen. He could have been so powerful. And, for a moment, he was.”

Click here to read my full interview with Nick Davies with Vice.

Journalism, News

‘Our prisons have become death traps’

The dramatic  reports from the Ministry of Justice and the National Offenders Management Service will come as no surprise to anyone connected with the Prison Service.

For the last 18 months or more, the overwhelming story in our prisons has been one of mounting violence and insecurity, brought on by over-crowding, cuts to jobs and services, and a Government led programme to toughen up the “privileges” afforded to inmates.

The two reports published today show how this toxic mix has impacted on prison life over the last 12 months.

  • Overall, deaths in custody are up 24% – from 181 to 225
  • Self-inflicted deaths have gone up to their highest rate in a decade, up from 52 to 88 – an increase 69% in a year
  • Among male inmates, self-harm is also up from 16,399 to 17,474 (an increase 6.6% in a year)
  • Assaults (male) have gone from 13,573 to 14,491 (up 6.8% in a year)
  • Serious assaults (male) up from 1,277 to 1,661 (up 30% in a year)
  • Assaults on staff (male) up from 2,787 to 3,201 (up 14.9%)
  • Hospital attendances (male) up from 1407 to 1527 (up 8.5% in a year)

The NOMS report is equally bleak, with more than a fifth of prisons in England and Wales now seen as a “concern”.

In covering this story for VICE, I met dozens of people who told me the same thing. From inmates and governors, to lawyers and charity workers, the message was clear: the Prison Service was nearly at breaking point. Now, with the head of the Howard League for Penal Reform saying our jails have become “death traps”, it appears we’ve reached it.

Features, Journalism

The Prison Service is in Crisis

Photo: Joe Sandler Clarke

Photo: Joe Sandler Clarke

This is Lee Jarman.

His step-brother was found hanged in his cell at HMP Woodhill on the 22nd of May, 2013. He was 30 years old and had a long history of mental health problems, having been diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. He was also a regular self-harmer and had made a number of attempts to kill himself in the past. Despite all this, the staff at Woodhill felt he posed little risk of self-harm and suicide.

Kevin’s death is symptomatic of broader problems in our prisons.

Deaths in prison custody reached an all-time high in 2013. With morale low, prisons short of staff, violence on the rise and the government announcing that an extra 440 inmates will have to be placed in already over-crowded cells by August, writing for VICE I found that the Prison Service has reached a tipping point.

You can read Lee’s here on VICEUK and find out about the crisis in the Prison Service by reading my investigation here.


Features, Journalism

What place is there for journalism in the digital age?

It is an exciting time to be a young reporter.

This is a mantra all student journalists will be used to hearing.

Where once you had to plead with an editor to get a story published and then deliver it by post to other editors in the hope of making a name for yourself; now you can create a blog, publish your content and in minutes have your article being read by hundreds, if not thousands, of people via social media.

On top of this, you can contribute to new sites like Huffington Post and Sabotage Times. You won’t be paid but you’ll gain greater recognition by attaching your name to these established news organisations.

The digital age has also transformed news gathering. Sources are easier to find than ever before and archives can be trawled through in minutes using increasingly sophisticated search engines. Further, the rise of data journalism has opened up a whole field of story-telling, banishing the traditional reporter’s fear of numeracy in the process.

But the relentless enthusiasm for the new age of reporting masks the deficiencies of the modern era.

For all the virtues of data-driven journalism, its increased use in newsrooms across the world is as much because of cost as it is down to an excitement about the new medium.

After all, a journalist sitting at a laptop mining data is not going to accrue the same expenses as a roving reporter in the field. Similarly, stories derived from datasets won’t have the same legal question marks hanging over them as more conventional articles. Generally, as long as you’ve got your sums right, you’ve got the story right.

Moreover, the rise of the internet has coincided with a rise in job insecurity. The transformation of the advertising market online has stripped local and regional outlets of their main source of revenue and unemployment has inevitably followed. It is estimated that in the United States the number of working journalists fell by 25 per cent between 2001 and 2010.

In some cases new technologies threaten to diminish the role of the journalist altogether. Earlier this month, the Los Angeles Times posted an article online that was generated entirely by an algorithm, while a recent article on Motherboard speculated that a partnership between Buzzfeed and social sharing site Whisper could lead to the creation of automated viral content; lists by robots, if you will.

As the role of journalists has diminished in the digital age, the role of advertisers has strengthened. It is telling that the bastion of the modern era Buzzfeed boasts that it is “redefining online advertising with its social, content-driven publishing technology” before discussing content on their ‘about’ section.

Similarly, as part of its plan to combat heavy losses, the Guardian has become increasingly cosy with advertisers; signing up first with EE and now Unilever to sponsor whole sections of its website.

Of course, the news business has always had to walk a moral tightrope. Work that can generally be thought of as a public good – news that informs debate in a democratic society – has been funded by private money, through advertising.

But as the communications scholar Lance Bennett has argued, the rise of advertising-driven content could serve to diminish the freedom of journalists to report as well as decreasing the number of subjects open to scrutiny. A glossy, ad-filled magazine section would previously supplement expensive investigations in the news pages, but such a distinction no longer exists.

To quote Bennett: “When the internet suddenly offered cheaper and more precise means of targeting ads to audiences, both advertisers and audiences began to drift away from conventional media formats, leaving the news itself as an odd piece out in the media picture. Who would pay to produce a story on climate change? Who would pay to consume it?”

The digital age offers incredible opportunities, both for the young journalist looking to make a name for him or herself and for the public consuming the news. But the relentless enthusiasm for the modern age of journalism exhibited by media professionals still in a job and also budding reporters masks more disturbing trends in our media. By acknowledging this we can have a real discussion about what we want the future our press to look like.

Interviews, Journalism

Troy Townsend: ‘Football needs to look at its dark side’

It was in October last year that Andros Townsend fired a low swirling shot past the Montenegro goalkeeper which virtually guaranteed England a place at this summer’s World Cup and made the team’s fans believe that the tournament might not be such a crushing disappointment after all.

For his father Troy, sitting in the stands at Wembley stadium, it was “a wonderful moment”; a reward for having spent his life working in the game and for sacrificing his coaching career to develop his son’s talent.

Meeting him for an interview it’s easy to see how much the game has taken its toll on the 48 year-old. Average height with broad shoulders, he walks with a pronounced limp, the product of an injury sustained much earlier on in his career. And despite living out most fathers’ fantasies and seeing his son play for his boyhood club, Tottenham Hotspur, every week, his relationship with football has been complicated.

Townsend didn’t pay much attention at school, choosing to spend all his free time at training sessions with Millwall FC, playing in the same side as Teddy Sherringham.

All his friends, the PE department and even his head teacher told him he would make it a professional, which made it all the more when he was released at the age of 17.

“I felt my whole world crashing down,” he recounts. “My whole life had been geared toward becoming a footballer and that was taken away from me.”

On being released he didn’t receive any support from the club and with his parents busy working to make ends meet he felt unable to reach out to anyone.

With no qualifications he spent of his days playing football with his friends, trying to adjust to his new identity, no longer the future football star.

He eventually came back to the game, working as a semi-professional coach and manager in the lower leagues, the highlight of his career seeing him take Boreham Wood on an FA Cup run which saw them face Blackpool, then managed by Steve MacMahon. Shortly after this, he was struck by tragedy.

His son Kurtis, a promising striker at Wimbledon was on his way to a match when he was killed in a car accident 12 years ago. The incident left Troy in a spiral of depression.

“Losing Kurtis gave me my darkest moments. I was in place that I never thought I would be in, and I didn’t know how to get out of it,” he says. “Football had taken away somebody from me, and I didn’t want to part it anymore. It took me a long time to turn that into a positive, but now I’m back involved and everything I do is out of love for the son who is no longer with me.”

On top of his job as Mentoring Manager at the anti-racist organisation Kick It Out, Townsend also runs a football academy and has recently worked to raise awareness of mental health issues in the game.

Over the last few months he has participated in events with Michael Bennett, the former Charlton Athletic winger who is now head of Player Welfare at the PFA.

The suicide of Wales Manager Gary Speed and more recently the death of former Tottenham Hotspur youth player Josh Lyons, who threw himself in front of a train after being released by the club, has put the issue of mental health into the spotlight.

Troy says the game needs to acknowledge its darker side.

 “As glamorous as football is, it also has a dark side,” he begins.

“I know people in the professional game who have turned to drink and drugs because of the pressures. We need to find a way of finding a way of supporting those individuals.”

“Yes there are helplines now, but when I was in my dark days I wouldn’t have called up a helpline because I didn’t want to open up to people I didn’t know. Football needs to appreciate that what we see on Saturday at 3pm is great, but there is a darker side to the game and that needs to be looked at a lot more. Otherwise incidents like what happened with Josh will continue to happen.”

WSC magazine - Mental Health - front cover

Sections of this interview are included in ‘Mind Games’, my feature exploring the the issue of mental health in football which can be found in the current edition of When Saturday Comes which is out now.

Features, Journalism

Syria’s best and brightest are caught up in the crossfire

The article as it appeared in Times Higher Education Magazine in January 2014.

The article as it appeared in Times Higher Education Magazine in January 2014.

Syria’s higher education system is in disarray.

This may not seem particularly shocking given the many thousands who have died or been forced to flee their homes since the war began in 2011, but it is deeply depressing.

The destruction of Syria’s education system means that research has gone unfinished, students have stopped learning and the countries brightest minds have fled. As well as ruining lives, the war is also destroying the country’s future

For this feature, published in Times Higher Education, I spoke to Syrian academics who have fled their country and come to work in the UK.

They told me that universities were regularly targeted by all sides in an increasingly manic civil war and that professors were a prime target for kidnappers.

I am very grateful to THE for publishing this piece and hope it raises awareness of the work done by organisation like the Council for Assisting Refugee Academics who are supporting Syrians caught up in the crisis.

You can read the piece in full here.

Interviews, Journalism

Gary Younge: ‘What do I tell my son after Trayvon Martin’s murder?’

In this wide-ranging interview, I explore the politics and work of award-winning Guardian journalist Gary Younge. This piece was published by Huffington Post UK back in October 2013 and can be found here.

The American government isn’t working.

By a strange quirk of the country’s political system, the Republican Party was able to shut it down and bring the world to the brink of economic catastrophe. All as part of a bid to renegotiate a piece of legislation passed three years ago.

This act was just the latest example of the work of the most unpopular congress in history. A move made by a party, which has never had a lower approval rating, in a country which, according to the majority of its own people, is on the wrong track.

Such is the state of the nation it is easy to understand why many are pining for a bygone era. A time, whether real or imagined, of prosperity, relative consensus and, above all, hope.

It is in this atmosphere that the journalist Gary Younge, author of ‘The Speech: the story behind Martin Luther King’s dream’, chose to re-examine one the most important and optimistic moments in American history.

“I wanted to revisit the moment the speech was given and look at how that moment is interpreted now,” says Younge, who believes that Dr King’s words have been misremembered.

“The speech is open to interpretation and in a sense that was the point. The country wasn’t at a stage where everyone could hear the same things and get the same message. There is something in that speech for everyone to cling to, for everyone to remember.

“For African-Americans it was a speech that is an indictment of American racism, delivered in the black vernacular by a black preacher. At the same time, it’s deeply patriotic. A dream rooted in the American dream, in the shadow of Lincoln, paying homage to the founding fathers and the constitution. So for patriots it’s something to remember. For liberals and the left it was delivered on a passionate day at the end of this huge march. And for conservatives they hang on to one line. It is remembered as a patriotic speech. A speech showing the best of America, at a time when, in many ways, the country was at its worst.”

For Younge, in order for Americans to remember King as an icon, as someone who is worthy of having a statue on the National Mall and a federal holiday in his honour, there has to be consensus about how he is remembered. And that consensus is the ‘I have a dream’ speech.

More controversial elements of his politics, his opposition to American military power and his critique of capitalism, have been largely forgotten. Meaning that people from all backgrounds, conservatives and liberals, blacks and whites, can view King as a hero. While politicians can evoke his memory even when carrying out policies of which he would disapprove.

“It does a disservice to his politics if we only remember him through that speech, but it doesn’t do a disservice to remember him as the man who delivered it,” argues Younge.

“It’s part and parcel of how history works. History isn’t just a collection of the best and the most important stories. It’s a collection of the stories that people want to hear. Part of the purpose of the book is to say there is another story to be told here. It wasn’t a popular march. America was not united behind this man. This was not all Dr King stood for. That’s my contribution to understanding a different kind of history.”

Younge has lived and worked in America for 10 years, becoming the Guardian’s foremost commentator on the United States in the process.

During that time he’s witnessed the invasion of Iraq, the re-election of George W. Bush, the rise of the Tea Party movement and the emergence of the country’s first black President.


On the eve of Barack Obama’s inauguration in January 2009, he described his election as “dramatic, implausible and impressive”. More than four years later, his assessment of his record in office is blunt: “I never invested huge hopes in him, so I’ve got nothing to be disappointed by.”

He argues that Obama’s legacy, like King’s, is being contested and misremembered even as it happens in real time.

There are those on the right who call him at turns, a fascist, a socialist, and even the devil. While some on the left claim his election changed nothing and that he is worse than Bush. Like King’s ‘I have a dream’ speech, people listen to the President speak and choose to hear the things they want to hear.

“I was in a bar on election night on the south side of Chicago in 2008 and a woman shouted ‘my man’s in Afghanistan, he’s coming home’,” says Younge.

“But Obama never said he was going to stop that war, in fact he said he wanted to escalate it. I don’t know why that woman thought that. She was reading something into his campaign that didn’t exist.”

Younge offers a more sombre, matter-of-fact assessment of Obama’s record. He says the President has governed like the man he always was: a centrist Democrat, and Younge criticises those on the left who have complained about the President, without putting him under pressure to do any different.

“Those who look at him outside of the context he is working in are doomed to misunderstand him,” he argues.

“Obama reveals the limitations of American electoral politics. An electoral politics which is heavily gerrymandered, run by money and has imbalances written into the constitution in terms of who can get elected to the Senate. There was no one more progressive who had a chance of getting elected.”

“I thought his election was a great thing and I wondered about what would happen to the people who supported him. Would they carry on marching? Would they carry on campaigning? Or would they cede their power to him? His campaign had the capacity to become a movement. If this grassroots campaign tied its aspirations to him, therein lies all forms of disappointment. But if it tied its aspirations to the changes they wanted to see, that’s a different thing. Unfortunately, people packed up and went home as soon as he was elected.”

As he turns to the failure of the left to create a movement to challenge power, Younge becomes more passionate.

“Progressive change is not going to come from the top, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect Obama to organise a movement himself,” he says.

“Until America has a truly progressive movement, it will be disappointed by people who seek to be progressive in its place. Occupy Wall Street redefined the economic debate away from the deficit and towards inequality. And the lesbian and gay movement forced the President to come out in favour of gay marriage and repeal ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’. Those are two areas where popular protest forced some kind of reckoning with the rhetoric that the President espoused. That’s how you do it. You don’t do it by saying that ‘now we’ve got him elected, let’s watch CNN and see how he does’.”


For all his opinions on the state of American politics, Younge is much more than just a political commentator.

His work draws on a number of different areas, his varied interests informing his articles. He is just as confident interviewing South American authors, as he is analysing the workings of Capitol Hill.

Yet as with all writers from a non-white background, his work is often pigeonholed and he is criticised for returning to the same issues.

“There’s always responses to my work on the Guardian’s ‘Comment is Free’ section saying ‘why do you always write about race?” he explains.

In reality, only 20 per cent of Younge’s most recent work has been about race; this in the year of the re-election of America’s first black president and a high-profile murder of a black child in Florida.

On the night George Zimmerman was acquitted of the murder of Trayvon Martin, Younge wrote an impassioned and moving piece in which, having asked why Martin was in some way guilty for trying to defend himself when being followed by a man with a gun; he posed the question “is it open season on black boys after dark?”

The piece attracted global attention; going viral in part because the article was taken down by the Guardian shortly after it was published. It was put back up with one minor change a few hours later.

Younge describes the reasons behind the decision to take the article down as “a series of banalities which are difficult to explain on social media” and insists there was nothing sinister about the decision.

Having finished the piece at 1am, Chicago time, he sent it off to a Guardian sub-editor in Australia who put it online.

The newspaper’s Comment Editor then chose to take it down so a British lawyer could take a look at it. As Younge explains “no one wants George Zimmerman suing the Guardian.”

After Younge had got some sleep and when the lawyer’s queries had been answered, the piece was put back online.

“You could argue that we put it up too quickly,” admits Younge.

“But I would say that it was important to put it up as soon as possible. We were working on different bases. If it was an American lawyer, they would have seen it and it would have been fine because they would have been more familiar with the case.”

With regards to the trial itself, Younge says “Trayvon Martin’s murder wasn’t a surprise. In many ways it was just another day in America.”

He argues that what shocked people about it was that Zimmerman was allowed to walk away with his gun, due to Florida’s controversial ‘stand your ground’ law.

I ask Younge, whose six year-old son Osceola was born in the States, about his personal view of the case. He responds with an anecdote.

“Just the other day I was in Boston and I went back to a friend’s house late at night. I knew what number their house was but couldn’t find it on the door. So I walked up to another door to see what the number was. That kind of thing can get you shot in this country. It can get you killed,” he says; adding that the incident has made him question what advice to give his son.

“What do I tell my son? Do I tell him if someone’s chasing you and they have a gun: stand still and don’t fight? Do I tell him to run? Do I tell him to call the cops? What options do we have as human beings when this level of violence is effectively ignored by the state?”

For all his knowledge of American politics and current affairs, Younge grew up in Stevenage, England.

After joining the Guardian shortly after graduating from City University London in 1993, he wanted to be the paper’s Moscow correspondent, having studied French and Russian at undergraduate level.

It wasn’t until he fell in love with his American wife Tara Mack that his fascination with the country really blossomed.

“It’s a big crazy country where people are willing to speak to you,” he explains. “So it’s an easy place to report from.”

As with his work on Martin Luther King, it is the contradictions within America that fascinate him. How the nation’s self-image sits at odds with the way much of the rest of the world sees it.

“It’s great when you go to a small town and you tell them that you’re English and they say ‘why would you come here? No one comes here!’ And yet tomorrow in school those same people’s children will learn that their country is the leader of the free world and that everyone wants to come here,” he says.

“If I hadn’t fallen in love with an American maybe I would be somewhere else, but this is as interesting a part of the world as any. The world is fascinating.”

Gary Younge’s book ‘The Speech: the story behind Martin Luther King’s dream’, published by Guardian Books, is available now.

Journalism, News

Tottenham’s stadium plans will force locals out of area

Tottenham Hotspur’s much discussed plan to build a new stadium could force people out of the area around White Hart Lane by driving up house prices and demolishing whole streets.

In this article for When Saturday Comes I spoke to local people about how the plans to regenerate Tottenham High Road as part of the stadium development would affect them.

Guardian journalist David Conn, who later published an in-depth investigation into the development plans, said of this article: “it’s a good piece of work; I was very impressed that you did it as a journalism student.”

You can read the full article, published in October 2013, here.