Tag Archives: Scotland

Letter to a friend, on the eve of the Scottish Independence Referendum

Dear friend,

The Scottish Independence Referendum is tomorrow. The time for indecision has passed, and now it’s time to vote. I am not eligible to vote in this referendum, but you are. You’ve thought about it a lot, and you’re still not quite sure. Such a big, involved thing to do, declaring independence. If so many in Scotland still oppose it, who are you to compel them?

Many of those who oppose independence sit to the right of yourself on the political spectrum, but you never mind what they say. You already know that their reasons are wrong, even if their conclusion were to be accidentally right. What gives you pause is that some who oppose Scottish independence (or at least don’t think it’s worth casting a vote for) are on your left. Their reasons carry more weight for you. The SNP is dreadful, they assure you. Independence won’t accomplish all of these (wonderful but unrealistic) things that the pro-indy left thinks it will, they warn.

There are no guarantees, and this is the problem. Scots who want independence can’t guarantee that any of the things they’re gearing up to lobby their independent government for will materialise, or at least not that they’ll materialise much more quickly than they would have done without independence.

Here’s what we currently know for certain: Westminster is going from bad to worse. Labour has nothing to do with labourers (quite the opposite, actually), and the Liberal Democrats are anything but. The grim conditions of Britain’s sick and disabled, its unemployed, victims of the drug war, refugees and immigrants, political dissidents of any stripe, and students (domestic and international), amongst others, are certain not to improve under Westminster for the foreseeable future. Years. Maybe decades. There’s a referendum for Scotland’s independence, but there’s no guarantee that cutting off Westminster and localising Scotland’s government will lead to success in improvements to any of these things, however vigorously pro-indy Scots are eagerly prepared to fight for them.

The trouble is, friend, that it doesn’t matter, and I’ll tell you why: the most vulnerable members of our society, those who most need independence and who have experienced the worst of Westminster’s unconscionable policy strategies, those who would benefit significantly if even only a few of the most horrendous bits of British policy were trimmed away, matter enough. There are no guarantees. We don’t need one. Even if the most cynical and pessimistic predictions for an independent Scotland are true (incidentally, they aren’t), the people who need this most desperately, those whose lives depend on it, are reason enough for Scotland to cut the cord with Westminster and brave the complex web of challenges and political battles that wait on the other side.

The late middle-aged disabled woman whose hands shake and stomach lurches with panicky adrenaline every time she opens her mailbox lest there be a letter in there from Atos matters enough.

The young man who’s facing criminal prosecution because a cop doesn’t like that he marched in opposition to tuition hikes and welfare cuts matters enough.

The student whose lifelong ambition of being the first in his family to graduate from university is wavering under the crushing anticipation of an entire adult life spent paying off student loans matters enough.

The soul-battered long-term unemployed mother who scrapes by on pennies and now has to somehow shoulder her stresses and stay strong for her children while being pulled away from them for dozens of hours per week to stock shelves for no wages on a workfare scheme matters enough.

The stage four cancer patient who has to spend his last precious hours on earth in a Job Centre because Atos has deemed him ‘fit for work’ matters enough.

The asylum seeker fleeing homophobic murder in her home country matters enough.

The nervous adolescent international undergraduate who had to register her identity and all of her personal details with the police upon arrival in this overwhelming new city because they think that people from her country are probably terrorists matters enough.

It’s too soon to tell how much better things might be in an independent Scotland. Maybe the most zealous and enthusiastic of the Yes campaigners are right, and the force with which they’ll charge the doors of their newly independent government will succeed in making Scotland a very different place to the one it is today. Maybe the most jaded of the left wing No voters, and those who don’t see fit to vote at all, are right, and an independent Scotland won’t be all that much better than a Westminster-laden one. The reality is probably somewhere in between.

You and I, friend, are leftists because we think that a person, even a person who’s of no use to anyone but herself, has value, and a lot of it. She’s not just worth more than nothing – she’s worth a great deal. Even if no one but she and a few others like her were to benefit from Scotland’s independence (seriously unlikely), she would be worth the trouble. The stage four cancer patient’s last few hours on earth not spent in a Job Centre are reason enough. That woman’s daily stroll out to her mailbox unburdened by the paralysing terror that her government will leave her to die on the pavement is reason enough. The life of the mortally imperilled asylum seeker who cannot and will not just go back where she came from is reason enough. A young graduate’s freedom from the shackles of student debt is reason enough.

We don’t know for certain yet who in Scotland will benefit from independence, or how much (though we know that it won’t be David Cameron or the Royal Bank of Scotland, and that’s encouraging, isn’t it?). But whoever they are, and however much it is, they matter enough that it’s worth it. I can only say so with my words. I hope that you will say so with your vote.

With anxious anticipation of what tomorrow will bring,

Your Friend The Ineligible Voter

This post was written by Lisa Kalayji.

Lisa Kalayji is a feminist researcher interested in gender identities and sexualities, inequalities and liberation politics, politics and economics of penal systems, drug cultures and policy. L.Kalayji@sms.ed.ac.uk

Image Source: CC Licensed image by Scottish Government on Flickr

On whose behalf? Sex work in Scotland and the need for proper debate

At the end of July, it emerged that sex workers had not been invited to an official meeting concerned with a proposal currently before the Scottish Parliament to criminalise the purchase of sex in Scotland.

Speaking to the Herald, Neil McCulloch of SCOT-PEP – Scotland’s leading sex workers’ rights organisation – expressed the group’s frustration at being barred from the meeting, despite previously having been invited to similar debates. ‘Disastrous as this legislation would prove in Scotland,’ McCulloch commented, ‘we nevertheless sought to play a constructive role in discussions and are shocked to have been excluded entirely.’ Speaking on the same issue to The Courier, a sex worker called Cat commented, ‘It’s outrageous to hold a meeting to discuss sex work and to specifically exclude sex workers and sex worker-led organisations.’

SCOT-PEP’s frustration is compounded by the fact that this is not the first time they have been excluded from such meetings. The organisation argues that the recent decision to bar them from discussions is symptomatic of a much wider problem with the debate on criminalisation: the silencing of sex workers. ‘Would you have a meeting to discuss whether to legislate supposedly to help any other marginalised group and yet explicitly bar them and their representatives from the discussion?’ asks McCulloch. ‘It can’t be right for a politician to try to work in this way, without even wanting to hear the voices of the people most directly affected.’

Rhoda Grant MSP, architect of the 2012 Criminalisation of the Purchase of Sex (Scotland) Bill, explained the recent decision to exclude SCOT-PEP, claiming that the meeting was ‘for those who support the principles of criminalising the purchase of sex.’ In Scotland it is possible for a consenting adult aged 18 or over to have sex with another consenting adult in return for payment without any offence being committed by either person; the proposed bill would make it a punishable crime to buy sex. Pro-criminalisation campaigners believe that such a move would reduce demand for sex work and thus sexual exploitation.

The debate on criminalisation aside, it is unfathomable that in a society that aspires to be among the fairest and most inclusive in the world, policies are being discussed and formed on behalf of groups without considering their opinions and experiences. When news first broke of Grant’s Bill, an article in The Skinny pointed out that if an MSP put forward a bill affecting LGBT communities but refused to include LGBT voices, there would, quite rightly, be outcry. The need for proper debate is especially important as the Bill has not yet passed (although its passage looks increasingly likely without the opposition of the late Margo MacDonald, one of Scotland’s leading sex workers’ rights campaigners, who passed away on the 4th of April).

The debate over the visibility and legality of sex work in Scotland is, of course, part of a much wider and complex conversation about the moral status of sex work, reflected in the varying policies across the globe. In New Zealand, all activities connected with selling sex have been legal since 2003; whereas, in parts of Europe, the United States and India, an ‘end demand’ agenda has gained ground in recent years, resulting in a series of policy changes aimed at restricting the movement of sex workers and criminalising clients. The movement to stamp out demand for sex work in Scotland is merely one part of this global policy conundrum.

Despite this, the recent crackdown on sex work in Edinburgh – evidenced by brothel raids and an increasingly influential criminalisation lobby – is surprising as it succeeds a twenty-year period of tacit tolerance towards sex work and, importantly, engagement with sex workers’ rights organisations. In the early 1980s, when increasing supplies of heroin and high youth unemployment gave Edinburgh the unlikely reputation as the ‘AIDS capital of Europe’, the City Council responded by implementing a policy of ‘harm reduction’ towards sex work and the use of intravenous drugs. It was as part of this pragmatic response that the Council established an informal (non-harassment) tolerance zone for sex work in Leith – a former port area to the north of the city – and a tacit agreement between the Council, sauna owners and the police which allowed sex workers to practice their trade relatively safely.

Until recently, the famed ‘model of tolerance’ was widely considered a successful strategy for reducing harm, both towards those involved in sex work and the wider public. Saunas – although by no means problem free – became a part of Edinburgh’s ambivalent identity, accounting for the city’s reputation as one of the UK’s top destinations for sex tourists. However, national and international pressure to criminalise the sex industry, combined with changes in police structure and ideology have placed Edinburgh’s model of tolerance under strain.

A major influence on the drive to criminalise sex work is the newly-merged national police force, Police Scotland, which came into force in April 2013 and saw control of law enforcement in the capital effectively transferred to Strathclyde, where a ‘zero tolerance’ policy towards sex work has long been in place. Just two months after Police Scotland became operational raids took place across 13 venues in Edinburgh, 11 of which were licensed as saunas and widely acknowledged to be operating as brothels. Sex workers and proprietors were arrested and six of the saunas had their licenses immediately suspended.

The stated justification for the operation was intelligence of ‘criminal activity’, including reports of drug offences and human trafficking.  Reports of foreign nationals being strip-searched, held without food or water and questioned by UK Border Agency officials suggest, however, that a variety of agendas were at play. In particular, these raids have been seen as an attempt to crack down on ‘illegal’ immigration.

Following a public consultation towards the end of 2013, the Council also decided in February of this year not to renew licenses for the remaining saunas; council officials explained that saunas will not be automatically closed but will be allowed to continue unlicensed. Several women’s organisations, such as Zero Tolerance, welcomed the decision, explaining that, rather than minimising harm, the licensing system had facilitated the sexual exploitation of women.

Sex workers’ rights campaigners, on the other hand, argue that removing licensing legislation will place sex workers at greater risk by forcing them to work in unregulated flats where they will be more vulnerable to unsafe sex, violence and exploitation. Indeed, since the decision to remove sauna licenses in February, sex workers from Edinburgh have spoken out about their fears of walking the streets or working in flats alone. Sarah, a sex worker from Edinburgh, recounted her ordeal of being beaten and raped by a client as she worked alone from a flat in Perth in central Scotland – something many more sex workers are being compelled to do due to a lack of safe working spaces following the decision to remove sauna licenses.

Alongside changes in policing, an international and national movement to tackle sex trafficking and organised crime is adding to the pressure for more punitive policies towards sex work. According to an inquiry conducted in 2011 by the Equality and Human Rights Commission, Scotland is trailing behind the rest of the UK in human trafficking convictions; and with the upcoming referendum on Scottish independence, politicians are under pressure to appear tough in the battle against ‘modern-day slavery’. The referendum is also likely to be among the reasons why Scottish politicians are proposing a wide-ranging anti-trafficking Bill which will define the crime of human trafficking in Scots law for the first time.

But while many believe that the answer to sexual exploitation in Scotland lies in the criminalisation of the sex industry and increased law enforcement – including legislation on human trafficking – sex workers’ rights activists believe that criminalising the purchase of sex will drive issues of exploitation underground and further stigmatise sex workers. It’s naive to believe that criminalisation will stop people from selling sex; if the Bill is passed, sex workers will likely move into unregulated flats where they will be exposed to increased risk of violence, HIV infection and extortion from police and other third parties.

Although there are considerable difficulties in collecting reliable data about the experiences of those who work in one of the world’s most stigmatised industries, there is some evidence to support the fear that criminalisation will have negative consequences for those it claims to protect: SCOT-PEP claims there was a 95% rise in attacks on street-based sex workers in Edinburgh following Scotland’s decision to introduce penalties for kerb-crawling in 2007. Jean Urquhart MSP, Independent MSP for the Highlands and Islands region, also believes that criminalising the purchase of sex will further stigmatise sex workers, making it even more difficult for them to come forward to report crimes such as trafficking and child sexual exploitation.

The meeting at Scottish Parliament also came just days after  Norman Fowler – former Health Secretary who led the UK’s response to the emergence of HIV/AIDS in the 1980s – remarked at the 20th International AIDS Conference in Melbourne, Australia, that sex work should be decriminalised in the UK to slow the spread of HIV and combat prejudice. Fowler’s new book, Don’t Die of Prejudice, documents how discrimination and stigma against sex workers, as well as HIV-positive people, drug-users and gay people, is hindering the world’s fight against AIDS.

It is for these reasons that the failure of MSPs to engage with SCOT-PEP, or any other sex workers’ rights group, raises alarm bells. At a time when arguments should be heard in equal measure, in order to ensure policies achieve their stated aim of safeguarding vulnerable individuals, one of the most important voices in the debate is being silenced.

This post was written by Lauren Wilks.

Lauren Wilks is a PhD Candidate in Sociology at the University of Edinburgh and an Editor at Routes. Her research focuses on the experiences of female migrant workers in the informal economy in Kolkata, India, and is funded by the ESRC. Previously, she was a Student Fellow with the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. L.Wilks@sms.ed.ac.uk

Image Source: CC Licensed image by Mikasi, via Flickr