According to the Gov.uk site, in 2018 the creative industries made a record contribution to the UK economy by crashing through the £100 billion barrier. “Our creative industries not only fly the flag for the best British creativity at home and abroad but they are also at the heart of our economy,” said Jeremy Wright, who was Secretary of State for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport at the time. These figures suggest that we live in a thriving creative economy, which must be great news for ‘creative’ graduates.
But other figures show that in 2017 anyway 30% of creative graduates were unemployed for over six months after leaving university, and most were struggling to pursue their chosen career. And a 2018 survey by The Online Recruiting Resource (ONREC) shows that to get on the career ladder a lot of young people are forced to take on unpaid internships.
As a journalism undergraduate I fall into the apparently positive category of potential member of the creative industries, but also into that other category of the person who – to get the experience necessary to find a job – will need to work for nothing. So I decided to find out what it’s like.
One of the most common offers out there is to become a production ‘runner’ which as I want to be a media journalist I thought would be good experience. So what is a runner? In my case it meant someone running around with a tripod, a camera, a boom pole and occasionally an E7128882 zone light stand. But let me tell you the whole story.
I wake up at 10 for a 12 noon start and keen not to be late I leave the house without having breakfast, planning to eat on set later instead.
My first task takes me from Gospel Oak to Hackney Wick by train where I have to sprint to catch a bus. The weather is terrible, the rain is spitting, and the wind is smacking. The fact that cars are bumper-to-bumper is not helping, and I have to get off and walk through the park in the cold. My destination is the production company’s office, where I am to pick up the equipment. But the building is well hidden and takes ages to find. I finally fall through the double doors of a fancy office to find myself handed a massive Manfrotto bag stuffed with heavy equipment that I sling over my exhausted shoulder.
Back out in the rain I circle the building three times trying to understand the directions I am being given over the phone before finally finding the person who I assume is the project manager. He’s a kind man in his 50s, who says “Hi” before handing me over to the camera crew who I will spend the rest of the day with. My job is to be the cameraman’s helper’s helper – or the runner – and before I know it I am running everywhere. Everyone is very nice to me – but at the same time they are all too busy to tell me much.
My first job is to get the light stands up. It would be very unprofessional to say I don’t know how this works so I will pretend like I know what I’m doing. Then someone says something that triggers my anxiety. “Can you get the g*ofh p%$ please?” I have no idea what he is talking about but make for the room he points at and stumble around looking for something likely. Although I’m an atheist I find myself praying like a Sadhu. Where is it? What is it? And then I see what looks like equipment. No time to delay. I grab it and run.
A boom mic is thrust in my hands and I’m told not to get caught in the cables, which isn’t easy given the way we have to rush around recording things. A cable runs from the mic I’m holding to the camera forcing me to hurry along behind my owner. No warnings, no traffic lights and no hand signals. I feel like an untrained horse on a lead.
The general idea is to film this entrepreneurial event, mainly the bit when the budding businessmen and women pitch their ideas. This could be good: other wannabe creative types with great ideas. Maybe I will get one of my own.
But the first business idea is about how to stop pets getting depressed at home. The entrepreneur has invented an app that releases tennis balls for the pets to play with. I kid you not. Here I am – being paid nothing – to record another creative industry contender with an idea that doesn’t stand a chance of generating him any income either. The more I listen to him the more I am aware of how well some people treat their pets, certainly better than me. I’ve been here ages and have still not been fed.
Getting to speak to the speakers means I keep getting asked to move the tripod. This means constantly heaving the heavy camera on and off the tripod, before lugging the equipment to the next set up spot. It’s annoying and exhausting.
Finally we get to stop for a while. They use me to test the lights and so I get to stand still in them. At first it’s a relief, but after 15 minutes under the hot lamps I’m dripping with sweat. I haven’t been drinking or eating anything and when I don’t eat I get agitated.
At last they let me out of the glare and I find a table with a jug of water on it and four elegant glasses. Too elegant for a runner is my guess, so I just stare longingly at the water glinting in the studio lights. Finally I get the courage to ask for some and without waiting for an answer lunge at the jug and spill it into a glass.
Finally I hear someone say, “It’s time to go home”. But only after I help pack the equipment, which given how weak I feel is a real struggle. I’ve been here almost 11 hours. It’s 10.30 pm and I haven’t had anything to eat except for one canapé that somehow escaped the guests.
Now I’m out on the street again. At least it’s stopped raining, but everywhere is shut. The area is full of luxurious designer boutiques and high buildings, but no fast food. By now I’m feeling so dizzy I can see motes flying about in front of my eyes. I feel like I might pass out but manage to weave my way home somehow.
So that was it – my introduction to the world of unpaid creative work. Look online and you’ll see that there are moves to have it limited in some way. The Sutton Trust wants unpaid internships of over four weeks to be banned. This article in Fortune Magazine shows that the question of when work experience becomes exploitation is being fiercely debated on Twitter. One popular argument is that as only rich kids can afford to work for nothing, the creative industries end up full of posh people.
I only did it for a day, and learned loads from the experience that I can put on my CV. And wait for it… I even got a hug, and a little stroke, and a ‘thank you’, and a wish of ‘good luck’. No one there was mean to me. But they were also so caught up in their own pressure to get the job done that they also didn’t pay me any attention – so yes I was neglected. But exploited? I’m too early on in the journey to make up my mind yet.
Having said that, there is one thing I am sure of. If you get someone to work for nothing the least you should give them is travel expenses, some food, and something to drink!
