One law for the poor at Grenfell Tower

Steve Tombs, Open University and David Whyte, University of Liverpool

 

In austerity Britain, can justice and accountability be served for the victims of the Grenfell fire? Or are our laws already too much shaped to the needs of the business class?

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Image source: ChiralJon/FlickrCC BY 2.0

 

Days after the Grenfell Tower disaster, London Mayor Sadiq Khan expressed the sentiments of many, not least the bereaved, the survivors and the local community at large, when he stated that, “if negligence or other wrongdoing by individuals or companies played any role whatsoever, I will fight for the full force of the law to be brought to bear.” But what exactly is the full force of the law in this case?

One demand has been that those who had the knowledge and ability to prevent what has happened should be prosecuted for corporate manslaughter. And the fire at Grenfell seems exactly the kind of disaster which the Corporate Manslaughter and Homicide Act was introduced in 2007 to deal with. Yet in almost 10 years since it was introduced, the law has only been used successfully 21 times – and in no cases has a large organization been convicted following a multi-fatality disaster. In fact, following the deaths of six people at the Lakenal tower block in 2009, the CPS eventually decided against pursuing a case of corporate manslaughter against Southwark council despite the fact that the council “knew the building posed a fire risk but did not act and had not carried out a fire risk assessment.”

In any case, the scope of this relatively new law was carefully shaped to the needs of the business class rather than ordinary people. Champagne and Pimms glasses would no doubt have been chinking in some parts of Kensington and Chelsea when the Blair government announced in 2006 that the new law would grant a blanket exemption to directors and senior individuals in organizations. This means that the most likely result of any such prosecution is a fine against the organization (and in this case the costs of a fine against the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea Council (RBKC) would ultimately fall on local taxpayers). It is a prime example of what happens so often in our legal system: even the laws that appear to be holding the wealthy to account tend to do nothing of the sort.

Some senior experts have noted that there may be evidence to support a different approach, a prosecution of individuals for the common law offence of manslaughter. We already know unequivocally from the testimonies of the Grenfell Tower Residents Association, that the RBKC was told about the fire risks, and were warned of specific risks on multiple occasions. Yet apparently there was no adequate fire safety assessment.

Here we confront a much deeper problem with the law designed to regulate organizations and businesses. Regulation has been on the back-foot in the UK for some 30 years. Successive governments have virtually mandated a withdrawal from law enforcement in health and safety and in local authority regulation.

When David Cameron pledged to kill off health and safety for good, he followed a long line of governments desperate to prove their pro-business credentials by cutting inspection and prosecution, and stripping back regulations. In most recent years, austerity cuts have taken us to the point that the average workplace can now expect an inspector to call once every 50 years.

Fire protection has been similarly compromised by the cuts. A report by the National Audit Office shows that between 2010 and 2015 funding for stand-alone fire and rescue authorities fell by 28% on average in real terms. Savings came predominantly from reducing staff costs and reducing audits, inspections and fire risk checks. The result: fire safety checks in tower blocks fell 25% in the most recent 5 years. Perhaps most alarmingly in light of Grenfell, the report noted that the government had “reduced funding most to fire and rescue authorities with the highest levels of need….as defined by the social and demographic factors.” In other words, the cuts to fire and rescue services have fallen hardest on the poorest – just like all austerity cuts.

More generally, at local authority level, since the cuts began to bite, campaigns to enforce regulation against business have become almost extinct. This is because most councils, unlike RBKC, have reached rock bottom in terms of their ability to maintain services. As an Environmental Health Officer in Merseyside put it to one of us recently: “it’s going to come to the point where it’s going to affect the residents, the local population, in many ways we are at that point now, public health and protection is being eroded.” Even more galling is that RBKC, the richest borough in London and one of the few councils that remains cash-rich, is choosing law enforcement on behalf of the rich over enforcing the law in the general interest.

We know this by looking closely at what building enforcement officers in Kensington and Chelsea have been doing in recent years. In 2015 RBKC embarked on a major campaign to stop construction companies displaying unlawful and ugly advertisements and messages on the side of the buildings. At the time, RBKC planning policy head Cllr Timothy Coleridge said:

“Unfortunately, some developers ignore the rules and turn their hoardings and scaffolding covers into huge adverts, sometimes in the heart of historic and sensitive residential areas. This is unfair on our residents and it is unfair on those developers that follow the rules and we will prosecute when required.”

In other words, this was a law enforcement campaign aimed at enhancing the aesthetic appeal of the area, and maintaining the successful gentrification of the area, rather than ensuring high standards of building renovation for working class residents.

The public inquiry and inquests will seek to learn how we can prevent another Grenfell Tower happening again. If the police and the CPS are serious about using the full force of the law, it may well be possible to prosecute for corporate manslaughter and for common law manslaughter. Individuals in charge of key decisions can be held accountable for this latter offense if they have acted with gross negligence and have breached a particular duty of care. It is very possible those conditions will be met in the case of Grenfell Tower.

By contrast, a lack of prosecution will send a clear and powerful message: that justice and accountability cannot be served in austerity Britain. But the solution to what happened at Grenfell will not be found in the courts. If there is one resounding lesson that must be learned, it is that any future government must reverse 30 years of attacks on regulation and law enforcement and cease this war against the poor.

This post was first published by Open Democracy on the 21st of June 2017, at: https://www.opendemocracy.net/uk/steve-tombs-and-david-whyte/on-grenfell-one-law-for-rich-one-poor

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Just another Scumbag Millionaire? Green, BHS and the State of UK Regulation

Steve Tombs, Prof of Criminology, The Open University

Trotting out the phrase “the unacceptable face of capitalism” as part of a “damning” House of Commons Work and Pensions and Business, Innovation and Skills Committees report on the collapse of BHS may make for good headlines but does nothing in terms of progressing reforms towards any more effective system for controlling the behemoths of corporate capitalism.

While the headline versions of the report make much of Sir Philip Green’s “systematic plunder” of the company, a closer reading reveals a systematically flawed system of regulation, one untouched by the financial crisis of 2007, still under attack as a burden on business, and likely to be further weakened as the realities of Brexit become increasingly apparent.

The report – or at least its popular reception – is a classic instance in individualising corporate offending. Sir Phillip Green, and to a lesser extent Dominic Chappell, are the equivalents of the ‘Scumbag Millionaires’ of the 2007 financial crisis, the headline The Sun ran across its front page cover of Fred Goodwin, Stephen Hester, Andy Hornby and Tom McKillop as they sat before the UK Treasury Select Committee hearings of 2009 into the banking crisis.

Thus a key aspect of the debate surrounding the demise of BHS and its systematic plundering, not least of its pension fund, is whether Green will be stripped of his knighthood, itself intimately linked to whether or not he will fulfil what the report calls his “moral duty” and make a large cash payment to the pension fund. But in this latter call, we see the resort to moral duties as an indictment of the state of law and regulation of corporate activity, both in terms of the corporate person (by definition, an a-moral, legally constructed entity) and its directors, senior managers and shareholders. Indeed, the report is less than sanguine about the abilities of The Pension Regulator to secure restitution for the 22,000 pension holders who have been the victims of what is no more nor less than theft and fraud – an all too typical scenario in deregulated, neo-liberal version of capitalism that has long dominated the UK political consensus.

Sir Phillip Green before the Common Committee, 14 June 2016

Sir Phillip Green before the Common Committee, 14 June 2016

Source, The Huffington Post, http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/philip-green-tells-tory-mp-to-stop-looking-at-him-weirdly-in-bizarre-committee-exchange_uk_5761178fe4b03f24e3dadd3d

The whole affair – which the Committee’s report and media response to it seems somehow to represent as aberrant and a-typical (hence the ‘Unacceptable Face of Capitalism’ epithet) – in fact sheds light on other routine ways of doing business in the UK. One of these is the normal practice of squirreling funds offshore into tax havens – something Green achieved through his wife’s ownership of Taveta Ltd – and which the Panama Papers revealed, as if such revelations were necessary, is simply one element of industrial scale personal and corporate tax avoidance. And in this business of ‘aggressive tax planning’ – an anaesthetising term if ever there were one – the UK, and its financial services, those which Cameron and Osborne long sought to protect from over-burdening EU legislation – is a world leader.

This affair also tells us something about the craven attitude of UK media and political elites to leading business figures. Until very recently, Sir Philip Green had been lauded as an archetypal entrepreneur, the turnaround kind, the businessman who could not only speak for the best that is competitive capitalism but in fact was fit to advise Government: this is the same Phillip Green who was called upon by the Coalition Government in 2010 to advise on cost savings at it prepared for its ‘Emergency Budget’. At the time, Minister Francis Maude said of Green that “He’s shown how he can turn around big complex businesses. Government is a huge complex organisation, and while it’s not the same as a business, a lot of the same disciplines are needed.”

This is simply one instance of the craven attitude that successive Governments, since the days of New Labour at least, have portrayed in front of entrepreneurs. Recall it had been Gordon Brown when becoming Prime Minister in 2007 who called for a ‘Government of all the Talents’, and invited a series of unlikely bedfellows (and they were mostly fellows) into a labyrinthine of advisory – non-elected – posts. One notable such appointment was (Lord) Digby-Jones, former head of the employers’ organisation the CBI. On resigning his post as Trade Minister in 2009  Digby-Jones argued that “top businessmen” – and not  “incompetent politicians” – should run major Government departments: “Health, education, business, transport, defence and security are too important to be left any longer to enthusiastic amateurs and their honest and hard-working but risk-averse civil servants.”

Finally, this whole shabby episode reveals much about the systematic and ongoing failings of a patchwork regulatory system. None of the regulators involved – Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, the Financial Reporting Council, the Pensions Regulator, the Insolvency Service and the Serious Fraud Office – come out of this tale with their already-hardly-stellar reputations enhanced. And for all the talk of regulatory reform, improved systems of corporate governance, greater transparency for private business – all of which grace the pages of this 60 page report – little is likely to transpire in any of these areas. We’ve been here before, many times, not least in the series of Governmental inquiries which followed the 2007 financial crisis, which in sum resulted to virtually no meaningful regulatory reform. Perhaps the most lauded were the proposals in the Vickers Report, that a ring-fence to be erected between investment and retail banking. Subsequently, even Andrew Tyrie the Conservative Chairman of the Treasury Select Committee, said of the proposed UK fencing that it is “so weak as to be virtually useless” (Armistead, 2013). A handy catch-all verdict on the state of business regulation in the UK.

This is the story of BHS, of 11,000 jobs lost, of 22,000 pension holders impoverished. It’s a story not of rogue, vilified, condemned individuals. It’s the story of an economic system based on structural irresponsibility, a supine political and media elite, and a regulatory system unable to mitigate capitalism’s inherently destructive effects.

 A slightly earlier version of this blog was originally published on 26 July, 2016 at openDemocracy UK, https://www.opendemocracy.net/uk/steve-tombs/unacceptable-face-of-capitalism-what-collapse-of-bhs-shows-us-about-uk-economy

Banking Crimes without End

Steve Tombs

The Open University

In the last week of February 2016, two reports were published by the National Audit Office, on the same day. One calculated that ‘Claims management firms take quarter of PPI payouts’, the other warning that ‘Pensions overhaul could trigger raft of mis-selling’. Each was a telling reminder that the financial services sector is criminogenic, a series of markets and firms where crime is part of normal business practice and within which UK banks are “serial offenders”.

In recent years, the financial sector has been the site of an endless litany of ‘big crimes’. These include the fixing of the LIBOR (London Interbank Offered Rate, an inter-bank lending rate), and the price of both gold and silver, to the mis-selling of loans to small businesses, as well as ‘organised and aggressive tax avoidance, tax fraud, money laundering, corruption and feeding misleading stock market research to investors to drum up business and higher fees – just to men­tion a few of their misdeeds’.

If apparently esoteric, and not widely understood, none of these are victimless crimes. For example, the effect of manipulat­ing the LIBOR was to increase the cost of personal, busi­ness and state borrowing across the board – thus placing a premium on everything from personal loans and mort­gages to the costs of building hospitals through the PFI. LIBOR is used to set the value of financial transactions worth an estimated $300 trillion. Fixing its rate affects individuals and families, employees and employers, lenders and borrowers, and central and local Government – that is, everyone.

None of which is yet to mention the biggest crimes of all, emerging during 2007 and culminating in the financial crisis. In the UK, the response to a crisis precipitated by long term and systematic fraud and theft was a rescue of private capital from the public purse, via a series of bailouts – the first tranche of which had amounted to the tune of £850bn before the end of 2009. The financial commitments made by Governments since September 2008 have included purchasing shares in banks to enable re-capitalization, indemnifying the Bank of England against losses incurred in providing liquidity support, underwriting borrowing by banks to strengthen liquidity, and providing insurance cover for assets. The Government “cash outlay” is said to have peaked “at £133 billion, equivalent to more than £2,000 for every person in the UK”. In stark contrast, the costs of the public purse rescuing private capital have been politically re-framed and the UK population has been schooled in the dogma of austerity, the crash having been an effect of public lassitude. So as the public sector is dismantled, capital is set ever-freer – since, with no little irony, it is only private capital which can now rescue the national economy. Regulation is to be avoided. And there have been virtually no regulatory reform nor criminal justice responses to the crisis in the UK of any significance.

the corporate criminal

Cover image from The Corporate Criminal

But away from headline-grabbing events are a series of systematic, mass crimes in which millions are victimised by the all of the major financial services companies. Particularly since the ‘Big Bang’ deregulation of the Financial Services Act (1986), consumers of financial services firms have been victims of three major waves of offences in the UK. These have involved many of the same (well-known) financial services companies.

First, the gradual withdrawal of the Conservative Government from pension provision, coupled with deregulation of the retail financial services sector in the UK in the latter half of the 1980s, created the conditions for a wave of pensions mis-selling. Companies launched into a hard sell, wrongly advising many clients to cash in existing pensions contributions and transfer them to a new, private scheme about which they received false information. Although breaches had been first uncovered in 1990, a KPMG survey of pensions advice given during 1991-1993 revealed that in “four out of five cases” pensions companies were still giving advice which fell short of the legally required minima. Early in 1998, the-then new regulatory body, the Financial Services Authority, estimated the final costs as around £11billion, almost three times the original estimate, with some 2.4 million victims.

At the end of the 1990s, evidence of widespread mis-selling of endowment mortgages also begun to emerge. Following the end of state house-building and Government encouragement of home ‘ownership’, millions of such policies had been sold through the 1980s and 1990s based on the claim that on maturity of the endowment policy, the sum returned to an investor would pay off the costs of their homes, a claim which often proved to be false. About five million people were victimised. The saga of mortgage fraud is uncannily similar to that of pensions mis-selling. First, the list of companies involved in each is virtually identical. Second, the endowment mortgage scandal was characterised by long term obduracy on the part of companies in the sector initially to admit any wrongdoing, then subsequently to compensate victims.

A virtually identical sequencing of events then unfolded with respect to Personal Payment Protection Insurance (PPPI). PPPI policies were widely marketed and sold at the start of this century, at the height of the credit boom. Financial services firms targeted customers with debts such as mortgages, credit cards or loans insurance against a future inability to meet repayments. But again, these products were often sold when they were unnecessary, or without customers’ knowledge, or indeed were to prove invalid in the event of customers claiming against them. In 2005, the Citizens Advice Bureau (CAB) filed a “super-complaint” relating to PPPI mis-selling to the Office of Fair Trading.  Yet this did not stop companies continuing to engage in a business they knew to be illegal: some 16 million PPPI policies have been sold since 2005. Moreover, the companies embroiled in the mis-selling of PPPI  included many of the, by now, ‘usual suspects’: the Royal Bank of Scotland, Barclays, HSBC, Santander, MBNA, NRAM (Northern Rock and Bradford & Bingley), Yorkshire and Clydesdale banks, the Co-op bank, Nationwide, Capital One, Welcome Financial, Principality Building Society – and Tesco.

These will not be the last ‘scandals’ associated with the retail financial services sector and its direct targeting of individual consumers. The latest candidate, almost to take us back to the 1990s, is a further round of pensions mis-selling, predicted by many when Osborne further deregulated the market in April 2015 by allowing the cashing in of pensions, with the National Audit Office warning of widespread exploitation in February this year.

All of these involve more or less the same companies. They affect millions of people in ways that are diffuse. They generate a series of forms of victimisation and social harms.  And such crimes and harms look set to continue to proliferate as the state, certainly in the UK, creates its own condition of impotence, further empowering private capital, not least pre-eminent finance capital, to construct its own rules of engagement.

 

The Corporate Criminal

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By

The Corporation as a Fact of Life

The dominant role that corporations play in our lives makes them appear to us as a fact of life. Corporations now profit from providing most of the food that we eat, the clothes we wear, the communications systems we use, the films we watch, the music we listen to and so on. What corporations do well or badly fundamentally affects our chances of a healthy life.  Corporations produce the chemicals that end up in the air we breathe and the water we drink, just as they produce the drugs that claim to keep us healthy and to prolong our lives.  Corporations are central to virtually all systems of child-, social or health-care, criminal justice, education, energy and transport. The presence of corporations in every aspect of our lives is so overbearing that it makes it seem as if this presence is both normal and natural.

At the political level, it has become received wisdom for most governments around the world – whatever their formal political leaning – that the corporation is the single best way of organising the production and distribution of goods and services in the contemporary world.  The corporation is  a motor of efficiency, innovation, economic progress, and ultimately social good. On this dominant view, corporations are essentially benevolent institutions.

Of course, it would be impossible to deny that corporations can, too, generate destructive side-effects.  But if corporations appear to act irresponsibly, or even illegally, it is argued widely in political circles that corporations and their senior managers must be empowered to reform themselves along more socially responsible lines.  Only where ‘corporate social responsibility’ fails should governments step in to regulate (or enforce) the law in order to bring recalcitrant corporations into compliance. The dominant, unifying, principle in contemporary mainstream politics is that it is possible for corporations themselves to balance effectively economic progress with social welfare.

Externalising Machines

None of these claims withstand scrutiny. The problematic consequences of corporate activity are not merelyside effects, marginal aberrations to be remedied  through self-regulation or even law enforcement. The problems caused by corporations – which seriously threaten our lives and our planet – are enduring and necessary elements of corporate activity. Corporations lie, cheat, steal, injure and poison as part of their everyday routine.  If this seems like a wild or even conspiratorial claim, it is not one that we make lightly.  Let us take three brief illustrations, all related to deaths, the tip of the iceberg of corporate harms.

First, deaths associated from air pollution. The UK Committee on the Medical Effects of Air Pollution (COMEAP), looking at the effects of poor air quality effects at a population level, has estimated that 29,000 deaths every years are ‘brought forward’ by pollution, albeit this is thought to be a significant under-estimate. Other estimates are higher: the UK Parliament all-party Environmental Audit Committee concluded in 2010 that “[a]ir pollution probably causes more deaths than passive smoking, traffic accidents or obesity’, possibly “contributing to as many as 50,000 deaths per year”. Moreover those deaths are not equally distributed across communities, since in what the all-party Environmental Audit Committee calls “pollution hotspots”, some peoples’ lives are being cut short by as much as 9 years.  Although it is virtually impossible to estimate precisely how much pollution is caused by corporate activity, as opposed, notably, to private car or fuel use, there is ample evidence to conclude that that most pollution is produced by commercial activity that corporations profit directly from.

Second, what is most commonly referred to as “food poisoning” is a major source of death and illness in the UK. According to the most recent report from the Chief Scientist, “Our best estimate suggests that there are around a million cases of foodborne illness in the UK each year, resulting in 20,000 hospital admissions and 500 deaths”. Even these estimates of food related illness are likely to understate the scale of the problem.  More recently, Food Standards Agency sampling of chickens bought from large UK retail outlets and smaller independent stores and butchers between February 2014 and February 2015 found that 73% of chickens tested positive for the presence of campylobacter – that is, three-quarters contained a pathogen which is the major source of hospitalisation from food poisoning in the UK. Again, to be clear, these cases of food poisoning are directly linked to food businesses – mostly to large corporations in the retail sector.

Finally, there is now strong evidence that around 50,000 or so deaths per annum are related to working in Britain.  Most of those deaths are caused by diseases that may take many years of illness before their victims die.   While we know little about the vast majority of these deaths, we know for sure that they are overwhelmingly not the result of accidents, a term implying these were unforeseen, unpreventable, or usually both. Quite the contrary, they mostly are the effects of failures of employers to meet clear obligations in law to protect the health, safety and welfare of workers and members of the public.  Again, the vast majority of people who are killed by working, are killed in the employment of private profit-making corporations.

These three examples provide clear indications that corporations produce harms which kill thousands annually – while they also routinely injure and generate significant levels of ill-health.   Alongside the physical costs of corporate activity are significant economic costs, too – the bulk of which are borne by individuals (as losses of earnings to a family when someone is made ill by industrial activity) or are more widely socialised (for example as a burden on health or welfare services). Yet standard cost-accounting mechanisms reduces the value of death, injury, illness, immiseration and environmental degradation to mere externalities; that is, peripheral side effects of corporate activity, which remain absent from the balance sheets of costs and benefits of private economic activity.  Thus corporations are only generally financially liable for only a proportion of the harmful costs of their activities.  It is this principle that enables corporations to act, using Bakan’s term, as “externalising machines.”

State-Corporate Symbiosis

But if we can estimate the scale of some harms, and if we can link these directly to corporate activity, the extent to which these are crimes is much more difficult to assess. Some of these harms are effectively legalized.  Air pollution, for example, up to certain levels and for certain substances, is legal, notwithstanding the harms produced.  Yet in cases of air pollution where there is clear evidence of illegalities on the part of private corporations, just as with food poisoning or deaths at work, the law is rarely used to punish those responsible.  Corporate offending is effectively decriminalised.

On one hand, this is because regulators, at both national and local levels, are so under-resourced that they cannot do their job, while, in any case, they do not see themselves, nor have the mandate, to act as any kind of ‘police force’ for commerce.  Equally significantly, the law itself provides corporations with a shield from liability for its crimes and harms. Thus: law constructs a formal impunity for corporations and its senior officers and owners; law effectively legalises many corporate harms; and the ways in which the law is effected provides a de facto state of decriminalisation where bodies of law are in fact violated as a result of corporate activities.  Law, then, sits at the crux of the freedom and structural irresponsibility with which the corporation is endowed. These legal structures, created and under-pinned by states, constitute the main reason why corporate power can never be simply separated from state power; corporations are effectively empowered by law to commit crime.

Many social scientists have, over the past forty years with the emergence of both neo-liberalism and ‘globalisation’, erred in assuming that the rise of corporate power necessarily entails a diminution in state power. Typically, trends towards deregulation and privatisation in the developed world are cited as ‘proof’ of this ‘fact’.  And yet, to the extent that many have been persuaded by this zero-sum analysis, it is at least in periods of social and economic crises that the real nature of the relationship between corporations and states is revealed. The bank bailouts that followed the so-called ‘credit crunch’ represented one of those moments of exposure. For here was a moment in which national governments intervened to save ‘private’ banks from the ravage of market forces, an intervention that is disavowed when jobs are threatened by offshoring production, or when meaningful curbs on executive pay are suggested.  In the bank bail-out, the ‘invisible’ hand of the market began to look a little more like the very clearly visible hand of the state.  It was a moment at which the illusion of the formal separation of power between states and corporations was shattered as governments around the globe scrambled to save finance capital.

In the UK alone, the immediate value of the bailout for the banks was £550 billion across 2008 and 2009.  And this burden on all of us imposed by the banking bailouts is by no means limited to those sums initiated in the aftermath of the ‘crash’.  As the New Economics Foundation has noted, ‘too big to fail’ banking subsidies exceeded £30 billion in both 2011 and 2012.  Indeed, corporate subsidies are more common across all sectors of the economy than most of us realize. Numerous sectors such as the care sector, health and pharmaceuticals, private security, the arms industry, educational suppliers and publishers and so on would be tiny by comparison without government contracts and the role of the public sector in stimulating those markets.  The construction industry enjoys remarkably high levels of public subsidy. UK train operators are completely dependent upon government subsidies.  In virtually every area of criminal justice social policy, vast swathes of ‘service’ delivery has been handed over, usually in the name of greater efficiency, to private corporations operating in oligopolistic market sectors. Indeed, virtually all of the ‘private’ economy is subsidized in one way or another – adding up to massive, and increasing, levels of corporate welfare.

For us, then, it is the interdependence between states and corporations – in contrast to the dominant and prevalent claim that these entities exist in relations of antagonistic, external independence – that must be the starting point for understanding the production of corporate crime and harm. More specifically, the corporation is an essential part of the infrastructure of the modern capitalist state, albeit that its place and roles therein are constantly in flux. Rather than viewing power as somehow distributed in a zero-sum fashion between states or corporations, it is more accurate empirically and theoretically to understand the relationships between corporations and states as much more complex and often symbiotic.

Its relationship to the state – or, rather, the capitalist state – is also crucial for understanding that the corporation cannot effectively be held to account through criminal, administrative, regulatory nor company law. It needs to be replaced. Now, this is not to say law can achieve nothing.  Legal reforms can mitigate some of the worst excesses of corporate power.  For example, we would argue that in order to limit corporate welfare, the delivery of a range of services should be nationalised and taken out of the for-profit sector; and the governance of national and local government procurement should be changed to develop effective forms of contract compliance, excluding recidivist companies from tendering to undertake work.  Moreover, via radical reform of company law, the ability of companies to externalise their social costs might be mitigated.  Moreover, workers can be empowered by law to challenge corporate power: for example, firms with legally-protected, effective trade union safety reps and safety committees have half as many recorded injuries as those where these counter-vailing sources of power do not exist. Consumers and local communities might also be so empowered to challenge polluting corportions. And, in the realm of criminal law, we can still identify reforms which might radically undermine the legal protections which corporations currently enjoy – laws which pierce the corporate veil, for example, so that the relationships between the corporate entity and those who own and control it are exposed, and legal liability is not compartmentalised and minimised.

But these reforms are always going to be piecemeal and always precarious – so working for them must not  prevent us thinking more imaginatively about  demands for more lasting and fundamental social change.

Why Corporations must be Abolished

The corporation cannot be effectively reformed: not through corporate social responsibility, not through regulation, not through tinkering with structures, its functions or its functionaries. It is an essentially destructive, irresponsible phenomenon.  It is its fundamentally destructive and anti-social nature that means the goal of corporate opposition must be the abolition of the corporation. Just as Thomas Mathiesen, the Norwegian criminologist, made a powerful case for prison abolitionism through placing the Prison On Trial, our book The Corporate Criminal places the corporation on trial.

In The Corporate Criminal, we challenge both the idea and the reality of the corporation. A starting point is the recognition that, although the corporation appears as a ‘natural’ and ever present entity, it is in fact a relatively short-lived historical construction, one entirely dependent upon state activity, continuously created and recreated through law, politics and ideology. We must imagine and struggle towards a world without the corporation. The corporation is not merely a threat to our lives in the ways that we indicate here, but in the long term, placing the trust of the future of the planet’s climate, or the future of food production or water distribution in the hands of the corporation, as is the case, is, literally, suicidal.  And so, a challenge to the corporation is now more necessary than ever in order to save all human life. In making such a grand claim we do not dismiss more piecemeal reform strategies per se – via law, regulation, enforcement, political challenge – but such efforts need to be placed within and judged against the wider, demanding, yet compelling political goal of meaningfully challenging corporate power through dismantling the corporate form itself.

The Corporate Criminal: Why corporations must be abolished (Routdledge, 2015) by Steve Tombs and David Whyte.

Steve Tombs is Professor of Criminology at the Open University. He has a long-standing interest in the incidence, nature and regulation of corporate crime. He works closely with the Hazards movement in the UK, and is a Trustee and Board member of Inquest.

David Whyte is Professor of Socio-legal Studies at the University of Liverpool where he teaches and does research on the relationship between law, politics and corporate power. He works closely with Corporate Watch and is a member of the executive committee of the Institute of Employment Rights.

Original article published in The Project

Austerity as Bureaucratized and Organized Violence

Vickie Cooper, Lecturer in Criminology

In July 2014, a member of the Disability News Service sent a Freedom of Information Inquiry to the Department of Work and Pensions (DWP), asking it to reveal mortality statistics on those who have died while in receipt of benefits and/or while serving a benefit sanction. Typically, Ian Duncan Smith, head of the DWP refused, claiming that the DWP does not review such cases. However, after mounting pressure, including an ongoing petition and pressure from within the House of Commons itself, it was subsequently revealed that the DWP carried out 49 – 60 reviews of people who died while claiming benefits. In a separate but recent review by the House of Commons Work and Pensions Committee, the government claims that it found “‘no particular case’ in which a ‘benefit sanction alone’ had directly led to the death of a benefit claimant”, but conceded that in 33 of those cases, the procedure could have been improved. This review makes recommendations that the DWP should conduct a system for formal death inquiries where an individual dies ‘whilst in receipt of that benefit’. This system, it is recommended, should be comparable to the Independent Police Complaints Commission, where death inquiries are made upon public request.

This particular Freedom of Information request is critical for thinking beyond the poverty implications of austerity, as it forces us to think more about the violent and harmful implications. A sharp rise in suicide mortality across those economies most impacted by austerity suggests that these post-crash economies are having particularly violent and harmful affects. Here in the UK, reports of ‘benefits-related suicides’ are being brought to our attention thick and fast. Perhaps the most familiar benefit-related suicide, one that raised much media attention, was the suicide of Stephanie Bottrill, from Solihul, near Birmingham. Following a thirty-minute assessment, the housing authority concluded that Stephanie Bottrill would have to pay an additional weekly fee for her spare bedroom. In her suicide note, Stephanie Bottrill blamed the government for causing her such stress.

Accused of failing in its duty of care towards disabled people, a death inquest led to various speculations as to why Stephanie Bottrill committed suicide. As such, Stephanie Bottrill’s history of mental health issues were called into question and were used to undermine the political significance of her death – as though the harms of austerity are any less significant or political when they impact upon those with mental health issues. A spokesperson in defence of the council responsible for making Stephanie Bottrill’s assessment claimed that she was in a ‘situation’, living in a house,  ‘that the government policy said was too big so she would have to pay a spare room subsidy’. The coroner passed a verdict that Stephanie Bottrill committed suicide due to ‘stress and anxiety’ and no local authority or government official was reviewed and/or policy implementation revised. But the biggest twist in the tale is that Stephanie Bottrill may have been exempt from paying bedroom tax. According to the pre-1996 exemption rule, any adult or family member living in the property before 1996, are exempt from paying bedroom tax. Stephanie Bottrill had been living in her accommodation since 1995.

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Esther McVey and Chris Hayes during Parliamentary Inquiry into benefit-related suicides. Photo: screengrab, BBC Democracy Live

We know from Durkheim’s seminal study Suicide, that economic crises are often followed by a rapid rise in numbers of suicide mortality. However, the rise in suicide mortality is not as a result of encroaching poverty levels, but the extent to which economic crises disturb the ‘collective order’. And nothing quite disturbs a sense of order like citizens being evicted from their homes and further displaced from those communities they once inhabited. The psychological and physical responses to welfare policies in this post-crash period is not the fact that individuals and communities now find themselves destitute and on the margins, but the means by which it is done and the disorder that ensues.

While increasing suicide mortality is one way for us to think about austerity as harmful and violent, perhaps it is not indicative enough of the violent and harmful impacts of austerity. Durkheim reminds us that:

“those who kill themselves through automobile accidents are almost never recorded as suicides; those who sustain serious injuries during an attempt to commit suicide and die weeks or months later of these injuries or of inter-current infections are never registered as suicides; a great many genuine suicides are concealed by families; and suicidal attempts, no matter how serious, never find their way into the tables of vital statistics.”

The problem with relating suicide mortality with social injury caused by economic crises, is that many of the harmful and violent outcomes are hidden and multifarious: the suicides that are recorded are only the tip of the iceberg.

Austerity as Organized Violence

Another way to think about the harm and violence of austerity is to pay more attention to those bureaucracies and organizations challenged with the task of enforcing it. Since 2010, the welfare reforms have encompassed a whole range of assessments for determining new thresholds of eligibility, with the aim of removing people from their benefits entitlement. Benefit claimants have been forced to make the transition from old benefit entitlements, to new ones; with new rules, new measures of entitlement, new guidance frameworks and more strict sanctions for those claimants who fail to adhere to these new rules. In this transition, claimants have had to undergo new benefits assessments such as Personal Independence Payment (PIP), Employment and Support Allowance (ESA), Spare-room Subsidy (bedroom tax) and Job Seeker’s Allowance (JSA).

These new thresholds of entitlement and eligibility, and the volume of assessments they entail, should not be underestimated as we think about how austerity is violently enforced through bureaucracies and organizations. Putting these new measures of eligibility in motion, the government and local authorities have recruited a number of private companies to administer the new rules of eligibility. Companies such as Experian, A4e, ATOS, Maximus and Capita have all been recruited to assess and process millions of benefit claimants. Where authorities claim that these companies ‘improve the quality’ of their assessment process, individuals assessed by them would most likely claim the opposite. A government inquiry into the standard of assessments made by the company Atos, revealed that 41 per cent of face-to-face assessments ‘did not meet the required standards’. When A4e set unattainable targets to reduce the number of people claiming employment seeker’s allowance, staff members resorted to ‘numerous offences of fraud’ in order to remove people from their benefit entitlement. Such offences involved ‘tricking’ claimants into carrying out job-search activities that, as a result of learning difficulties, they could not complete and were subsequently sanctioned. Although privatisation plays a significant part in the violent enforcement of austerity, local authorities have also been reprimanded for conducting benefit assessments unlawfully.

So how we can we think of these bureaucratic practices as organized violence? Mainstream policy analyses frequently dismiss the political significance of administrators of eligibility and entitlement as technical systems that separate ‘the deserved’ poor from ‘the undeserved’. But history tells us a more compelling story about the role of bureaucracy and organizations for enforcing and legitimating a violent political order.

Systems of classification and eligibility have a long history in shaping society and political relations. At worst, repressive regimes have relied upon bureaucracies to enforce formal eligibility rules to disqualify and deny citizens access to fundamental rights  – often relegating them to ‘stateless’ and ‘non-human’ identities. The Apartheid regime in South Africa began with the classification and reclassification of race that enabled the state to organize the violent expulsion of certain racial and ethnic groups and deny citizens their most basic rights. Similarly, Hannah Arendt observed that the perpetrators of the Holocaust were not atypical monsters, but mundane bureaucrats, as demonstrated in her analysis of the Adolf Eichmann trials.

These violent histories raise two key points for thinking about austerity as bureaucratized and organized violence. First, they reveal the manner in which violent political orders are legitimated at the bureaucratic level and second, how bureaucracies are necessary for reconfiguring socio-economic relations through systems of ‘entitlement’. These relations often include: property relations, race relations, class relations, family relations, gender relations, geographical relations and state-citizen relations.

And austerity serves as something of a peculiar model in this process. Austerity and the bureaucratic means by which it comes to be enforced is about reconfiguring social relations. Here, gender-relations and new benefit rules are a good case in point. With Universal Credit (which amalgamates six benefit and tax credits) claims are made on households, not individuals. The Women’s Budget Group argues that the design of Universal Credit – with its system of joint assessment, joint ownership and joint income – reshapes gender relations as it reinforces the ‘single breadwinner model’, a model that has disadvantaged women throughout history. In reshaping gender relations, Universal Credit is positioning women in harmful positions as it allows for abusive male partners to centralise and control household finance. Financial abuse is a common source of power and violence that is exercised over women and Universal Credit simply gives the abuser more money and more opportunity to control.  This comes on top of overwhelming evidence from Women’s Aid showing that the provision of domestic violence specialist services and hostel accommodation available for women, is diminishing directly as a result of local authority cuts.

Clearly, the government is failing in its duty to promote gender equality and protect women from harm and violence.

In this post-crash period, the war on the poor has resulted in various social injuries including debt, child poverty, evictions, homelessness, self-harm and suicide. Hell-bent on the idea that removing people from their basic entitlements can restore economic order, the government is throwing people onto unknown margins in order reduce the budget deficit.  But justifying this level of harmful and violent economic policy – as a means to an end, to reduce deficit budget – does not wash. Austerity is not a means to an end, but a long-term strategy by which governments are violently and legitimately disrupting the rights of citizens. As Hannah Arendt put it, violence is rarely a means to an end, but a power structure and political order that ‘outlasts all aims’.

It is worth paying closer attention to the rising levels of psychological and physical harms affecting young people as the next round of welfare reforms will disproportionately affect young people. With the new welfare reform bill, the Conservative government looks set on excluding young people between 18-21 years old from housing benefit entitlement (who are also claiming Job Seeker’s Allowance). Despite homeless charities ferociously ringing alarm bells showing how these policies will result in homelessness, the government wants young people to ‘earn or learn’. And bureaucracies will play a key role in enforcing these new rules as it begins to assess and remove approximately 20,000 young people from this benefit entitlement.

This blog first appeared at Open Democracy on 10 August 2015, at https://www.opendemocracy.net/ourkingdom/vickie-cooper/austerity-as-bureaucratized-and-organized-violence

Corporate Killing With Impunity

Steve Tombs

International Centre for Comparative Criminological Research

The Open University

This week saw sentence passed following the eleventh conviction under the Corporate Manslaughter and Corporate Homicide Act, 2007 (CMCHAct). Pyranha Mouldings, a small kayak manufacturer, was fined £200,000 following the death of a worker in 2010. Allan Catterrall had been trapped and died in an industrial oven.

The Act, rolled out across the UK seven years ago to improve accountability for corporate killing, has so far failed dismally to undermine what is essentially corporate impunity for deaths at work. Part of this failure has its roots in the Act itself, namely the exemption guaranteed to senior managers and directors in section 18, titled “No Individual Liability”. Indeed, it was only after this exemption was inserted by the Government during the legislative process that widespread business opposition to the proposed law became muted.

In England and Wales and Northern Ireland, the common law offence of gross negligence manslaughter still exists as a mechanism to hold individuals to account for their part in corporate killing, while in Scotland there is an equivalent common law offence of culpable homicide. However, there is some evidence that one effect of the CMCHAct is that in England and Wales (there have so far been no convictions in Scotland), individual liability has been sacrificed for pursuing corporate liability. In three of the first four convictions (see Table 1), decisions to proceed with corporate manslaughter prosecutions were accompanied by decisions not to proceed with charges against individual directors for the offence of gross negligence manslaughter.

Thus, some legal commentators have already referred to a nascent trend, with the threat of charges against individual directors being the ‘bait’ for a corporate manslaughter charge: ‘an offer from… the company to plead guilty in exchange for the prosecution dropping charges against individuals might look like an attractive one to a director facing a risk of prison’.

Moreover, further scrutiny of these convictions reveals two additional, key failings of the law.

First, all of the companies successfully prosecuted thus far have been small or medium sized enterprises which could have been successfully prosecuted under the common law of manslaughter (see Table 1). Thus, the large, complexly owned companies for which the new law was ostensibly designed, have so far evaded its reach. Perhaps relatedly, all of the convictions secured to date relate to offences involving a single fatality – while a key intention behind the law was to encompass multiple fatality incidents.

Second, the level of fines passed at sentencing has been relatively low. Following the passage of the CMCHAct, the Sentencing Guidelines Council had issued ‘definitive’ guidance on determining appropriate levels of penalties following successful prosecution under the Act. These guidelines marked ‘a very considerable backstep’ from a [2007] draft guideline, which had proposed that fines should be calculated within a percentage range of company turnover. The ‘definitive’ guidelines removed any link with turnover, with the key rationale for setting the level of fine being the ‘seriousness of the offence’ and factors contributing to this. Calculated in this way, fines should ‘be punitive and sufficient to have an impact on the defendant’, so that the ‘appropriate fine will seldom be less than £500,000 and may be measured in millions of pounds’. In fact, and as Table 1 indicates, only one fine has so far reached this putative minimum – although it should be noted that the fine of £500,000 was imposed upon a company which at the start of the trial was in fact in administration (Sterecycle [Rotherham] Ltd). Interestingly, a recognition of the poverty of current sentencing practice under the Act has prompted a new set of draft guidelines, currently under consideration, in which it is proposed that there be a more explicit link between fines and turnover – although the proposal is focused on larger sized companies, none of which have yet been convicted.

Each year in the UK, up to 50,000 workers die from fatal injuries and work-related illnesses, of which a significant but unknown proportion are likely to be the result of legal breaches by their employers. This annual total ranks highly in comparison with virtually all other recorded causes of premature death in the UK, and dwarfs the just-over 600 ‘conventional’ murders recorded in the most recent figures across the three jurisdictions of the UK. Such observations alone make the rate of convictions under the CMCHAct look like a spectacular failure on the part of police forces and the Crown Prosecution Service. The CMCHAct is beginning to look very much like another weak, and at best, symbolic attempt to hold to account companies which kill – one which barely dents the impunity which corporations continue to enjoy as they put profits before human lives.

Table 1. Convictions under the Corporate Manslaughter and Corporate Homicide Act, 2007

Table 1 Convictions under the Corporate Manslaughter and Corporate Homicide Act 2007

Fixed Odds Betting Terminals: the psychology of state-corporate harm maximisation

Steve Tombs and Jim Turner

International Centre for Comparative Criminological Research

The Open University

High street slot machine gambling – especially the mushrooming of Fixed Odds Betting Terminals (FOBTs) – has entered the political debate in the UK. FOBTs are a type of gambling machine which has a set (’ fixed’) average level of payout (‘odds’). For example, a FOBT with fixed odds of 70% means that someone who puts in £10 to play would generally get £7 back, although this is an average: in practice, some players will get back more than this, others less. In recent years FOBTs have become common on British High Streets, allowing very large amounts of money to be gambled in a short amount of time.

In this context, it is worth taking a salutary glance to the other side of the world – to Australia, sometimes referred to as the ‘gambling capital of the world’. Central to this perhaps unwanted status is the phenomenon of ‘pokies’ – “a high-stakes, high-intensity” gambling machine which “has become ubiquitous in pubs and community clubs”. According to one recent analysis, “Australians lose more money gambling per person than any other nation. In 2011-12 this amounted to the equivalent of more than £650 per adult”.

Such per capita calculations obscure the real cost of class-targeted forms of gambling within that global figure. Frankston, in fact the second largest city in the state of Victoria but in effect a suburb of Melbourne, is desperately poor, beset by a range of economic and social problems. It is characterised by lower levels of income, a lower rate of education across all age ranges, higher levels of unemployment and youth disengagement, and poorer averages on every indicator of ‘health’ and ‘personal safety’ when compared to the Melbourne metropolitan or State averages.  It also has a higher rate of per capita gambling losses than the Victorian average. At the top of the walkway from the platforms of Frankston train station is a rather stunning visual: a more or less constantly displayed poster warning, in stark white lettering on a black background: POKER MACHINES HARM FRANKSTON. $62,225,277 LOST LAST YEAR ALONE.

Frankston

How, then, does the state seek to mitigate the harms caused by FOBTs  to already disadvantaged communities? In Southern Australia, the Victorian Commission for Gambling and Liquor Regulation organises its regulatory approach around three commitments:

  • achieving high levels of voluntary compliance with gambling laws by setting clear expectations, encouraging the right behaviour and taking strong enforcement action where required
  • constraining the regulatory costs and restrictions imposed on the gambling industries to what is necessary to achieve regulatory objectives
  • upholding a culture of integrity and harm minimisation in the gambling industries.

This illustrates a preference by the state for self-regulation: regulatory costs for and burdens upon industry are to be minimised; and the object is to maintain safer cultures. A walk around many Australian bars, replete with gambling machines, reveals the nature of such self-regulatory efforts. “Take Control Of Your Gambling”, “Don’t Chase Your Losses: walk away”, “Stay in Control”, ”Set Yourself a Limit and Do Not exceed it” and “In the End the Machines will Win” say the signage aimed at the hapless punter. Such exhortations are thoroughly undermined by the psychology that is wired into the very design of these machines.  This makes the regulatory commitment to uphold “a culture of integrity and harm minimisation in the gambling industries” somewhat disingenuous.

Though it might not be obvious from the common media focus, only around 1% of people meet the diagnostic criteria for gambling addiction. We cannot, then, explain the level of gambling in Frankston and, increasingly, in some of the poorest boroughs, towns and cities across the UK, as a pathological type of behaviour exhibited by a small percentage of the population. We might more usefully learn some lessons from the psychology of behaviourism, which explores how people (and other animal species) respond to, and learn through, rewards and punishments. Rewards are specifically relevant to gambling machines as their design often draws directly on behaviourist psychology. Whilst they apply to all learning species, including humans, many behaviourist principles were first discovered in experiments on non-human animals. One classic animal study illustrates the problem with gambling machines from a behaviourist point of view.

In the most basic design of experiment, the animal is placed in an enclosure that has within it a button and a food dispenser. Whilst exploring, at some point the animal will make contact with the button and a food pellet will be released from the dispenser. The animal finds the food pellet rewarding and quickly learns to associate pressing the button with receiving a reward. Because it is usually not fed before the experiment starts, the animal will spend a lot of time pressing the button until it is no longer hungry. Transferring this lesson to FOBTs, playing is the equivalent of the animal pressing the button and getting a win is the equivalent of the food pellet reward.

Now, what happens when pressing the button doesn’t always make the food dispenser give out a food pellet? Say, for example, the food dispenser only gives out a pellet for every third press of the button: does the animal give up pressing the button, because it’s usually not rewarding? No, in fact the animal keeps on tapping that button: because it needs to press it three times as often to get the same reward, that’s what it does. You’ve probably already worked out the link to FOBTs: they don’t give out a reward every time (if they did they would just be change machines), but the fact that they don’t is one of the things that keeps people playing.

Back to our animal experiment. What if, instead of giving out a food pellet every three presses, the food dispenser is set up to give out food pellets randomly? Does the animal, not ‘knowing’ whether or not pressing the button will get it a reward, give up now? Again, no. This actually makes the animal press the button the most of all: because it cannot predict which presses will or will not be rewarded, the animal will press the button over and over and over again, periodically getting a food pellet reward which keeps it going. You can probably also see how this relates to FOBTs: the randomness of which plays get rewarded and which don’t is one of the factors that keeps the player going – the next play might be the one that ‘wins’. Psychologists have known about these principles since the classic work of B.F. Skinner with pigeons, which identified the role of random rewards in explaining how gambling ‘works’.

There’s one more twist. With the animal in our experiment, there are two things that will stop it pressing the button: (1) if there is a long enough sequence with no reward then, yes, eventually the animal will give up; (2) if the animal gets rewarded too often then it won’t be hungry anymore, so will no longer be motivated to seek the food reward. In a truly random set-up either could happen (although they would be fairly unlikely to happen very often). If you wanted to keep the animal pressing the button as much as possible you would put some limitations on the randomness, so that it never went too long without a reward but also never got so much of a reward that it lost the motivation to continue. The designers of FOBTs know this, so the machines are set up not to go too long without giving a ‘winning’ play. They are also, obviously, set up not to pay out more than they take in (FOBTs exist to make a profit, after all), so players will rarely reach a point where they are no longer ‘hungry’ for a ‘win’.

Overall, then, behaviourist psychology demonstrates how FOBTs are designed to maximise the amount that people play. If gambling is ‘harm’, then FOBTs are technologies of harm maximisation. This hardly squares with the regulatory gloss about a “culture of integrity and harm minimisation in the gambling industries”.

FOBTs – the so-called ‘crack cocaine’ of high street gambling – have recently become a matter of formal political debate in the UK. Out of this debate came the Gambling Protection and Controls, April 2014, which most notably required anyone using such machines to inform shop staff if they want to bet more than £50 cash at a time – rather than placing any maximum limit on spending. More recently, some UK councils have proposed a maximum individual stake for these machines. The Association of British Bookmakers inevitably claimed that the law would “restrict growth for the sector and mean hundreds of shops and thousands of jobs are now at risk“, even as others argued that ‘regulation’ was best left to the markets. An example of industry self-regulation in the UK can be seen in the work of the Senet Group, an ‘independent’ body with the ostensible aim of ‘promoting responsible gambling standards’, which was set up by the bookmakers William Hill, Paddy Power, Ladbrokes and Coral. In early 2015 the Senet Group, along with Gambleaware, launched a campaign with the strapline “When the fun stops, stop”. An example image from the campaign is shown below: notice how the word “fun” is presented much larger, and in a more eye-catching design, than the word “stop”. What message is this advert really sending about gambling?

Gambleaware

Again, there is much to learn via lessons from Australia. As anti-gambling campaigner Paul Bendat says, there the industry and its political allies have consistently used a series of discursive techniques to pre-empt effective regulation, so that the “harm to the disadvantaged” can proceed and accelerate. This strategy, resonant of those deployed by, for example, the tobacco and alcohol industries, denies that FBOTs are responsible for harm and deflects attention from the machine to the individual, claiming to defend individual freedoms and calling for voluntary, ‘responsible’ codes while citing potential employment losses as a risk of tighter regulation.

Viewed in the light of the psychology of FOBTs, the dangers of such claims, and their logic of self-regulation and appeals to cultures of harm-minimisation, are clear. Following the development, in the 1990s, by US criminologists of the term state-corporate crime, we might think of the failure to regulate FOBTs effectively as ‘state-corporate harm’ – harm generated by private companies which is facilitated by states. The dominant preference for self-regulation is probably best explained by the convergence of corporate and governmental interests that benefit from it: an enormously profitable industry, that at the same time generates considerable tax revenues for Government. Meanwhile, state and capital benefit by extracting revenue from populations who are already economically, socially and politically marginalised.