Paul Rogerson's blogs

Paul Rogerson
Tuesday, 10 April 2012

‘Tesco Law’ is dead. Well, it’s not breathing. Next week the struggling retail titan will unveil its blueprint for the future after issuing its first profit warning for 20 years. Investors are clamouring for retrenchment, with rejuvenation of the flagging UK retail business seen as an urgent priority. Leading shareholders want Tesco to scrap its ill-starred US ventures and retail banking arm.

Tesco ‘needs to think long and hard about what it wants to be’, Legal & General Investment Management, which owns 4%, told the Sunday Times. All of which surely makes it inconceivable that the company will announce further significant diversification - particularly into legal services, where the market is uncertain and the returns mightily difficult to forecast.

Of course, ‘Tesco Law’ was only ever a convenient shorthand for the reforms set in train by Sir David Clementi. Publicly, the retailer has never shown any interest in legal services, though it is equally inconceivable that privately it has not at least considered their potential.

Tesco’s travails are instructive in the context of alternative business structures, nevertheless. They show that simply grafting a ubiquitous and (hitherto) untarnished brand on to a suite of customer services entirely distinct from the core business is not as straightforward as one might suppose. If it were, Tesco would already dominate retail banking (a dubious privilege, admittedly).

Yet it is now nearly four years since Tesco paid £950m to buy out Royal Bank of Scotland's 50% stake in Tesco Bank - when ‘Fred the Shred’ Goodwin was still in his pomp. Customers are still waiting for the current accounts the grocer has been promising for years.

The UK’s supermarket sector may be dominated by four major chains, but it remains brutally competitive. In an environment where discretionary spending is being squeezed like never before, it’s hard to see that Asda, Sainsbury’s and Morrisons will want to divert a slice of their reserves to launching a legal services offer any time soon. Judging by the rate at which Sainsbury in particular is opening smaller outlets (I have two within 100 yards of my flat) it seems that the ongoing battle is presently being fought in the small convenience sector. And opening new shops is not cheap.

You will have spotted the flaw in my argument by now. What about the Co-op? Yes, it’s a relative minnow, but it is indisputably a grocery chain and wants to use an expanding retail network to build its legal services business.

But the Co-op is a very different beast. It’s the UK’s largest consumer mutual, owned by over 6 million people, with an enviable brand leverage at a time when the no-holds-barred Anglo-Saxon business model has fallen into disrepute. It has long had a diverse range of businesses, from doling out the ham salads at your auntie’s funeral to dispensing the drugs that failed to cure her through the UK’s third-biggest pharmacy chain.

And crucially, as a mutual, it is not under the same pressure as its quoted competitors to generate short-term gains for institutional shareholders. The Co-op can afford to play a long game.

This leads me to a prediction that may prove to be the worst since Gordon Brown declared an ‘end to boom and bust’. There is another diversified, giant, mutual retailer, that sells food through one of its subsidiaries, which has a brand every bit as appealing as the Co-op and could conceivably make real money from legal services.

Will ‘Tesco Law’ eventually be renamed ‘John Lewis Law’?

Paul Rogerson is Gazette editor-in-chief

Follow Paul on Twitter



Paul Rogerson
Monday, 2 April 2012

Civil liberties have few friends in government – only in opposition. Witness the coalition’s decision to hand police and intelligence agencies far-reaching new powers to monitor emails, phone calls and websites. ‘Big Brother WILL be watching you,’ booms today’s Independent.

It all started so promisingly, too. Page 11 of the coalition agreement, struck in May 2010, stated: ‘The government believes that the British state has become too authoritarian, and that over the past decade it has abused and eroded fundamental human freedom and historic civil liberties. We need to restore the rights of individuals in the face of encroaching state power, in keeping with Britain’s tradition of freedom and fairness.’

A just verdict on New Labour? Absolutely. Guilty as charged, m’lud. A progress report one year later, by the civil liberties group Big Brother Watch, showed that real progress was made in the early months of the new administration. ID cards were scrapped; steps were taken to remove the profiles of one million innocent people held on the national DNA database; the ContactPoint database of children’s details was dumped; and the criminal record check regime reformed.

The same coalition agreement also promised: ‘We will end the storage of internet and email records without good reason.’

So what has changed? The technology has advanced apace, granted, but so far as to justify Britain adopting the same kind of surveillance as China and Iran?

The reforms are promoted as combating terrorism. And there are still Islamist extremists out there in the ether, pledging eternal jihad. But in July it will be seven years since 7/7. The available evidence suggests the security services have done an excellent job in rooting out potential terrorists since then. It would be foolhardy to argue that the threat has been extinguished (and no journalist would offer such a hostage to fortune), but where is the evidence that the preventive powers already available are inadequate? Where – to quote the coalition document – are ‘good reasons’?

It is an iron law of public life, of course, that the police and intelligence officers are programmed to seek whatever permissions they can from suggestible politicians (who rapidly become ‘house-trained’). It’s in their DNA, if you’ll pardon the irony.

What ministers have failed to do over many years is to achieve the requisite balance between freedom and national security that is the hallmark of a properly functioning democracy. What’s in progress here is a terrifying continuum of ever-increasing state encroachment, the logical culmination of which is a security camera in every house. After all, if you’ve got nothing to hide, you’ve got nothing to fear.

So far today, opposition to the proposals in parliament has been led by thwarted would-be Tory leader David Davis – presumably because Labour is so hopelessly compromised on the issue. Meanwhile, the Liberal Democrats, in whose own DNA one might expect to find ‘civil liberties’ encoded, are apparently meekly accepting of the plans. Who else is there: George Galloway?

Some things are more important than petrol and pasties. Some democracy. Some liberty.



Paul Rogerson
Friday, 23 March 2012

A packet of wine gums at a provincial cinema; a large cappuccino at Starbucks; or maybe 10 minutes of Premier League football.

That’s what a trainee will be able to buy for an hour’s work when the Solicitors Regulation Authority does away with the minimum wage.

The news that trainees would be classed as apprentices within the national minimum wage regulations broke on Wednesday - just as George Osborne handed a hefty bung to the Armani-wearing classes by ditching the 50p tax rate. It was an apposite conjunction of events. A City partner on £1m a year will benefit from the chancellor’s largesse to the tune of £42,500 - enough to buy an entry-level Porsche, as the Guardian’s Patrick Collinson waspishly observed.

The politics of envy? The politics of righteous indignation more like.

Let’s look at what's on offer if you are an aspiring solicitor in this dubious position. The government describes apprenticeships as work-based training programmes ‘designed around the needs of employers’, which lead to national recognised qualifications. It is especially keen that they be offered to unskilled 16-18-year-olds.

But don’t fret, £2.60 an hour is a minimum! Some employers pay more. The average is £170 a week - about what a pokey bedsit will cost in a scruffy metropolitan suburb. Sorry, there’s nothing left for your bus fare to the office. You'll have to walk.

So there you are: already qualified; in your early to mid-twenties; groaning under the weight of £50,000 in undergraduate debt, after successfully negotiating several years of academic study; and your reward is to be paid less than half what a teenage burger-flipper earns at McDonald’s. Get on the starting blocks for the race to the bottom.

Bare facts such as this make a mockery of Nick Clegg’s hand-wringing platitudes about social mobility in the professions, and the deluded nostrums of identity politics (which state that discrimination can’t exist if employers are blind to gender, sexual orientation and ethnicity). If you want to become a lawyer, it will soon matter more than it has for decades how much loot resides in the Bank of Mum and Dad - regardless of your personal characteristics. The paradox is that a move trumpeted as aiding access to the profession, by creating more jobs, will in fact have the opposite effect by acting as another powerful deterrent to those who might be considering embarking on the long and expensive journey to qualification.

‘I'm really looking forward to graduating in July,’ one Gazette online commenter has vouchsafed. ‘Every time I read an article like this I find myself going “la la la” as a kind of coping mechanism.’

Unimprovably put.

So here’s an idea. How generous it would be if the seven-figure earners were to forego the Porsche this year (how many cars does one need?) and fund a trainee’s salary instead, thereby safeguarding the heterogeneity of this great profession. Or two-and-a-half trainee salaries to be precise. Who's going to be the Gazette's Alan Sugar?

Meanwhile, perhaps an SRA board member would care to show willing and live on £170 a week for a year, pour encourager les autres.

Paul Rogerson is Gazette editor-in-chief

Follow Paul on Twitter



Paul Rogerson
Friday, 2 March 2012

‘Know your own strength!’ the historian and intellectual E.P. Thompson told the biggest central London demonstration for years, on 25 October 1992. But we’ll never know whether the 150,000 who marched that day did know it, since they were protesting against the Major government’s emasculation of Britain’s coalmining industry.

It would seem they were dimly aware at best. For, after a raucous day out for the usual suspects, the pits eventually shut anyway and those notorious breeding grounds for labour militancy became part of history. As a governmental strategy, ‘Ignore them and they’ll disperse’ often works a treat, just as it did when two million vainly marched against the second Iraq War.

It’s an odd memory to dredge up, but the phrase ‘know your own strength!’ popped into my head unbidden in connection with - of all things - the courtroom interpreter fiasco. For what we have here is an old-fashioned public sector strike, against a hubristic government, which looks like it might succeed (or at least not fail) because the workforce is united.

Except it isn’t a public sector strike at all. Self-employed freelance interpreters have individually decided they are not going to put up with the Framework Agreement and have collectively told the Ministry of Justice and its contractor, Capita-owned Applied Language Solutions, to shove it. They have withdrawn their labour without needing to submit to a time-consuming member ballot and engage with Britain’s restrictive trade union legislation.

Result - hamstrung courts, enraged wigs and panic at the MoJ. At least one magistrates’ court has had to resort to Google Translate; it’s hard not to laugh, if only sardonically. What was the MoJ’s contingency plan after being warned two years ago by the Professional Interpreters’ Alliance that its members just wouldn’t put up with lower paid agency work? ‘They can lump it’ would be my guess.

Of course, employers incommoded in this way will often resort to what unreconstructed Trotskyites still like to call ‘scab labour’. But the interpreters are in a rare position of strength, because there doesn’t seem to be any in this instance. Hard to see the home secretary breaking the strike by throwing open the ports to English-speaking foreigners. Wouldn’t play well in the Daily Mail.

Meanwhile, it is mildly surreal to see pictures of interpreters brandishing placards, because they make such unlikely subversives; but then, as a breed, so do lawyers. Still, who was it who said governments derive their legitimacy from the consent of the governed? What would happen if solicitors and barristers across the land simply downed tools and refused to countenance the legal aid cuts, for example?

But that’s not how we do things here. We leave that sort of thing to the French.

Paul Rogerson is Gazette editor-in-chief

Follow Paul on Twitter



Paul Rogerson
Wednesday, 17 August 2011

When I grow up I want to be an insolvency practitioner. That was my rather facetious thought upon reading BDO’s latest administrators’ report on the collapse of Halliwells. Nothing to do with the defunct firm’s travails as such – though since RBS is down over £15m it looks like taxpayers are going to take a bath.

Equally arresting is the amount BDO is charging for clearing up the mess.

Here are BDO’s hourly charge-out rates, as disclosed in the report:

  • Partner £371-£460
  • Director £319
  • Senior manager £271-£295
  • Manager £202-£232
  • Assistant manager £185
  • Senior executive £170
  • Executive £139
  • Junior executive £124
  • Cashier £170
  • Trainee £99
  • Support staff/secretary £62

Is it me, or are these amounts eye-wateringly large? Is nearly £100 an hour for some shiny-suited ingénue fresh out of beancounting college a trifle OTT? Is £62 an hour a fair rate for the person who does the photocopying?

BDO, which is not one of the Big Four accountancy firms and therefore presumably charges less, has already cleared over £1m for the Halliwells gig. It will earn far more as this complex liquidation plays out.

Good luck to them I suppose - the Gazette is not at home to the politics of envy.

But spare a thought for the unsecured creditors, sitting on debts totaling £191m. They’ll share a maximum of £600,000, considerably less than the corporate undertaker representing their interests. And that appears perverse.



Paul Rogerson
Thursday, 30 June 2011

In 1984 I was at secondary school in Wakefield, where the playing fields backed on to a training college for West Yorkshire Police.

One afternoon, while meandering reluctantly to rugby practice, I encountered an extraordinary scene.

Hundreds of uniformed police in full riot gear could be spied through a hole in a high fence bellowing provocatively at another group of policemen in civvies.

The latter were pelting the former with wooden (and therefore not especially dangerous) bricks.

What was also surprising was the palpable alarm on the face of the commanding officer when he realised they were being watched.

He sent me on my way with a guttural northern curse, making it clear that I had seen something I shouldn’t have.

Why was he so sensitive to a nosey schoolboy?

Only years later did it dawn on me what I had witnessed - a full dress rehearsal for the Battle of Orgreave.

This was the dramatic and violent confrontation between police and picketing miners at a British Steel coking plant which proved to be a turning point in the history of organised labour in this country.

As everyone knows, the miners were beaten – in some cases literally – and trade unions went into a seeming death spiral thereafter.

More than a quarter of a century later, as hundreds of thousands of public sector workers strike in defence of their pensions, the corpse would seem to be twitching.

But this time it looks and feels very different.

This is hardly your textbook altercation between horny-handed sons of toil and the shock troops of the hated boss classes, on the Fred Kite model. (And if you don’t know who Fred Kite is, I commend to you the 1959 Boulting Brothers film I’m All Right Jack, starring Peter Sellers as the cartoon shop steward of that name and a deliciously louche Terry-Thomas).

No, today’s is very much a white-collar insurgency, as teachers, court staff, passport workers et al down their Bic biros and man (person?) the picket lines.

So what has all this to do with solicitors, apart from insofar as it disrupts their working day?

Well consider this.

In some quarters recent developments are being interpreted as a renewed assault on what the Conservative-led government regards as ‘vested interests’ standing in the way of its wider agenda.

This is to shrink the role of the state dramatically and marketise those parts of the economy that continue to be shielded from the full, purgative blast of neoliberalism.

The deficit is simply a cover for this agenda – we are not Greece.

The conspiracy theory, if it is one, is backed by circumstantial evidence. Look at the civil legal aid reforms.

Continued provision on the same model was and is affordable.

Indeed, the Law Society presented a plan for alternative savings in any case, with which ministers barely seemed to engage.

Over 5,000, overwhelmingly hostile, respondents to the green paper were simply ignored.

Similarly, the government-commissioned Hutton report acknowledged that public sector pensions continue to be affordable and that their share of GDP will actually decline over the next few decades.

What the government really wants, say its most trenchant critics, is to reduce terms and conditions of employment to the point where whole swathes of the public sector will be attractive to profit-hungry asset strippers.

In the NHS meanwhile, a wholesale privatisation scheme which appeared in neither governing party’s manifesto seems to have foundered in the face of opposition of one union which can continue to boast huge power - the British Medical Association.

Ah yes, the BMA. This morning we learn that the doctors have voted overwhelmingly to ballot for industrial action if the government decides to tamper with their own, generous, final salary pension scheme.

This will surely give the prime minister pause for thought.

No government picks a fight with the medics if it can help it, mainly because voters love the men and women in white coats (in a way they don’t love lawyers, alas).

Even the left-wing firebrand Nye Bevan had to ‘stuff their mouths with gold’ to get consultants to back the establishment of the NHS.

Plus ça change, etc etc.

We must wait and see how all this plays out.

But today’s dispute is not one the coalition can afford to be seen to lose - much as Margaret Thatcher would not have survived had she yielded to Arthur Scargill.

The historical parallel ends there though.

This time the losers, if losers they turn out to be, will be very different.

It’s not the foundries and pits that are deserted today, but the courtrooms and classrooms, and soon perhaps, the surgeries.

Today’s ‘vested interests’ are not the miners or steelworkers, but the teachers and the doctors. And the lawyers too.



Paul Rogerson
Thursday, 16 September 2010

A thought-provoking phone call this week from a solicitor (who wished to remain nameless, of which more below) about the Gazette leader column’s bullish stance on legal aid. It came in the context of this week’s events at the TUC, which is gearing up for a concerted battle over the public spending cuts to be announced next month. The media seem agreed that the brothers and sisters are stirring after 25 years of perceived irrelevance – whether we like it or not.
<!--break-->
He rang to protest that we were being party-political; which I assured him was not the case. If anything, we were even more scathing about the last administration’s policy on legal aid; deep spending cuts were signalled by Labour too. So when you think about it, we’re violently at odds with all three major parties on the subject.

What we actually did was endorse Roger Smith’s argument that solicitors who oppose legal aid cuts are going to need a more considered strategy than kneejerk opposition – and accept at the outset the intellectual case at least for the examination of cuts.

Moreover, the column is marked Opinion; readers are perfectly at liberty to disagree with that opinion and doubtless many do each week. An opinion with which no one disagrees scarcely counts as an opinion at all.

There’s the rub though. What struck me most about the caller was his evident frustration at the Gazette’s apparent unwillingness to offer a contrary viewpoint. ‘The money isn’t there, and even if it were, many solicitors don’t believe we should be spending so much anyway. And the crisis was caused not only by City bankers, but by a spendthrift Labour government.’

Not unreasonably, I asked him to write a letter or even an article making these perfectly arguable points. But he declined to do so, citing the vilification of his peers that would follow. ‘Certain views just can’t be expressed,’ he said, ‘you’d be slaughtered and victimised’.

He also alluded to the Gazette’s promotion of human rights as always a ‘good thing’ when he and solicitor colleagues believe the position is much more complicated. ‘The Gazette is in a PC straitjacket,’ he concluded.

As a journalist, I don’t mind being told I’m talking rubbish – it goes with the job. But it does worry me if people believe their voices can’t be heard in their own professional magazine. I stressed to him that we are quite willing and able to convey the opinions of solicitors who are – to use his term – ‘non-PC’. But those opinions have to be expressed first.

As I told him, I haven’t been able to find anyone to argue that the legal aid budget is too high and explain why it should be cut down to size. Does that phone call explain why?



Paul Rogerson
Thursday, 8 October 2009

<!--break-->
Earlier this year I blogged that judges’ generous pension entitlements would end up squarely in the line of fire following fiscal meltdown. And lo, it has come to pass, as the two main parties try to out-macho each other in respect of how severely they can punish public servants who were in no way responsible for the crash.

George Osborne, the next chancellor of the exchequer if you believe the opinion polls, proposed a £50,000 a year cap on taxpayer-funded public sector pensions at this week’s Tory party conference.

Judges are probably the occupational group that would suffer most.

To recap, judges pay just 1.8-2.4% of their salaries to accrue a final salary pension at the rate of 1/40th for each year of service, up to 20 years. This is quite staggeringly generous. Let’s say you’re a judge earning £170,000 a year – halfway up the ladder. For a modest outlay of about £34,000 before tax at current prices, you can retire after 10 years’ service on an annual pension of £85,000 for life. If you live for another 20 years, that’s a cool £1.7m from the taxpayer. Only the governor of the Bank of England (1/30ths) fares better in the public sector.

Even better, this is a final salary scheme. Move up and you stand to get far more.

A £50,000 cap would soon derail this particular gravy train. Pensions already earned, or already in payment, would appear to be sacrosanct. However, it seems a future Tory government would change existing public sector pension schemes to stop further pension accrual above £50,000 while scheme members are still in employment.

At what cost? The Senior Salaries Review Body (SSRB) points out that it is ‘important to assess the value of the judicial pension as a substantial part of the reward package’. Quite so, because judges’ salaries – while hefty – don’t come close to what the best of private practice has to offer.

Is the prospect of becoming a judge about to become a whole lot less attractive? Or will judges be treated as a special case, as they were when Lord Falconer removed the requirement that tax relief on personal pension savings be limited to the lifetime limit?



Paul Rogerson
Wednesday, 9 September 2009

The erosion of liberty is especially insidious because it happens by barely perceptible degrees. As a resident of Edinburgh, I was always able to park in the wide streets surrounding the city’s lovely Botanical Gardens for nothing (congestion is not and never has been a problem). No longer. Now you have to pay. And the council has compounded its folly by defacing those fine, tree-lined boulevards with lots of white lines and ugly street furniture. This is a monstrous imposition and I am incandescently annoyed about it. But it’s done and will never be undone.
<!--break-->
Time was too when you could fetch up to a football match as a free citizen, pay at the gate and go in. How quaint! Now you have to produce a biometric passport and undergo a criminal record check.

Well, not quite. But it now seems that any football supporter is a potential criminal and must expect to be treated as such. Today I tried to buy a ticket to watch my team – Leeds – play at Southend, only to be told by a most apologetic telephonist that I can’t have one because I am not personally known to any Southend supporter already registered with the club (the ‘away’ end is full). It’s being played on Friday night, by the way, to dissuade the mongol hordes of the West Riding from travelling down to sack the resort on Saturday afternoon.

The good burghers of coastal Essex have had a narrow escape. Being a son of the Broad Acres, I was planning to fetch along the most vicious of my many whippets, bash the locals over the head with an empty bottle of Tetley’s mild and bitter, and throw my clogs on to the pitch in the event of the home team scoring a goal. Now I shall have to content myself with the consolation of Yorkshire pud and the dripping jar ‘for us tea’ and the radio commentary.

Ok, I’m making a facetious fuss about nothing very much, but that’s the point. The little things accrete until they become a very big thing indeed. At Leyton Orient last year I managed to get a ticket, only to be met with a stern warning in the ground that I would be ejected were there to be any demonstrable evidence that I was not a home supporter. So, naturally, when Leeds scored a penalty, I jumped up to applaud the goalkeeper’s gallant attempt to save it. A friend of mine employed the same tactic on the North Bank at Highbury in the old days. Whenever Leeds scored against the home team (an infrequent occurrence, I freely admit) he’d jump up and loudly berate the Arsenal defenders while punching the air.

I’m drifting off the point, which is this. What are the limits of preventive policing and have those limits already been extended too far? There has been no serious trouble at a Leeds United away game for 20 years.

The last time I went to a home game at Elland Road I was filmed by a police cameraman entering and leaving the ground. Why? What right do they have to monitor, and if they so choose interfere with, my right of free assembly?

There are far more egregious examples of such abuses than my mildly discomfiting experiences. Last year 80 football supporters from Stoke were issued with a Section 27 order under the Violent Crime Reduction Act by the Manchester police, forced on to buses and escorted back to Stoke by police without being allowed to see a match with Manchester City. There had been no complaint about their behaviour. A group of equally blameless supporters from Plymouth Argyle were prevented from seeing a match at Doncaster, forcibly put on coaches and escorted across three police areas by vehicles and a helicopter.

As the campaigning journalist Henry Porter has written, the Football Supporters' Federation has been campaigning for police restraint in the use of Section 27, which allows police to issue dispersal notices to groups whom they believe ‘may cause trouble’. But why was such an outrageous affront to personal liberty allowed onto the statute book in the first place? Were MPs asleep, or busy fiddling their expenses?

On this 70th anniversary of the outbreak of World War Two, that famous VE day cartoon by Philip Zec is brought to mind. It’s the one that depicts a wounded soldier handing over a laurel representing victory and freedom in Europe, the caption read ‘Here you are. Don't lose it again!’.

But we are losing it, bit by bit and day by day, aren’t we?



Paul Rogerson
Wednesday, 29 July 2009

<!--break-->
There’s real irony in Alan Milburn’s report on Fair Access to the Professions. It reintroduces to the diversity debate a subject that is supposed to have been consigned to the dustbin of history (as Trotsky would certainly not have put it) by ‘third-way’ proselytisers like Milburn himself – class.

Blairism instructs that identity (and in particular race, gender and sexuality) is what truly defines people in this solipsistic, post-ideological age. Socio-economic status, like collectivism, is so 1970s, like British Leyland and The Rubettes. ‘We’re all middle-class now.’

As a political philosophy it delivered three election victories in the boom years. Just about everyone could keep up with the Joneses by maxing out their credit card or leveraging their houses to fulfil aspirations stoked by rampant materialism. Britain remained a low-wage, low-skills economy, but it didn’t matter.

Now the party’s over. As we sober up, it’s clear that Britain is as hamstrung by class as ever. And in certain respects – including in respect of access to, and advancement within, the legal profession – seemingly more so. Depressingly, after 12 years of (nominally) Labour government, equality of opportunity remains as distant an aspiration as ever.

So, What Is To Be Done? (As Lenin certainly would have put it, and indeed did). Well for a start, the government should look closer to home. The legal profession did not abolish maintenance grants for students and introduce fat tuition fees, disincentivising poorer people from seeking higher education, especially at the top universities. Nor did it entrench in society a culture of greed and soaring inequality that established private gain and private sector provision as virtues in their own right, implicitly scorning the notion of state provision – including state school provision.

Milburn deserves credit for disinterring the class debate nevertheless. And the report’s authors are right: the profession does need to look again at diversity and consider the issue more broadly. Signatories to the Law Society’s Diversity Charter pledge to publish annually the diversity profile of UK employees and details of their work on equality, diversity and inclusion. They need to remember that social class needs to part of their rubric, along with gender, race, disability and sexuality. Otherwise the elephant in the room will continue to be ignored.