Write you are…

The freelancer who advertised for an unpaid intern has attracted much in the way of ire. It’s fair to say that’s not really the legal definition of “work experience” (which requires you to be a student and not pass the workers test, as I’ve explained before). It’s fair to say that many people doing work experience either don’t know what is/isn’t legal in terms of the work they do, the experience they get, and what/if they get paid for it, or think it’s worth doing it anyway (which it sometimes is). But, as Sally from Getting Ink points out, you’ll probably learn more from a jobbing freelancer than if you’re on tea duty in a big office.

I think the real issue then, for me, is the kind of mentality all this perpetuates. Namely that it’s fine to slog away for free. Ask to get paid? How dare you. You should roll over and say thanks for the opportunity. Obviously you can’t just walk into a journalism career. It’s one of the most over-subscribed industries going with places on courses far outstripping actual opportunities. But that doesn’t mean you should be a complete doormat. And the thing that really, really annoys me is not the sight of an ad from a freelancer that probably is taking the proverbial. It’s the question that comes up again and again on freelance forums and mailing lists:

“Do you think I should write for free to get published?”

Here’s why it annoys me, and it’s not because of any views I may or may not hold on when/whether you should write for free. (Though in the interests of disclosure, I will only ever write for free if nobody is making any money, I do not believe it is OK to write gratis for markets that would otherwise pay, and I do not believe writing for free will make an outlet value your work or think that you value your work or want to pay you.)

The thing is, the people who ask these question never seem to grasp that they are asking it of people who do the same thing – writing – for money. Not for fun, but to make a living. It’s a business. Now, you wouldn’t email a list of, say, plumbers or mechanics or piano tuners or accountants and say: “Hey, how about I do a bit of work for some of your customers for free? Just to get noticed.”

These people aren’t just asking: “Should I write for free.” They’re asking: “Should I undercut you?” And it drives me round the bend, because they never seem to comprehend this. Freelancers have a weird relationship with each other. We’re colleagues and competitors. We’re in this together and against each other. There’s etiquette involved, e.g. it’s impolite to ask someone for all their contacts, or to ask someone for a contact at X publication seconds after they post their first cutting from it (though I will admit I’ve been guilty of this before now). And when people say: “Hey, should I approach markets that would otherwise pay, and work for them for free, thus potentially taking paid work away from other freelancers and/or making it harder for other freelancers to get paid work and/or helping to drive down rates and generally devalue the profession we all work in?” I just wish they’d recognise that it’s not all about them.

The problem with freelance journalism is it’s seen as so damn glamorous that grumbling about it inevitably requires lame analogies about plumbers or shops. But you wouldn’t ask a plumber if you should undercut them, would you? And you wouldn’t go into a market and say: “Hey, I noticed you’re selling this stuff on your stalls. How about I get the same stuff, but I give it away free? Would the customers like that?” Of course you wouldn’t. It would be rude. So why do people never seem to get that it’s rude to do this with writers, too?

Not only that, but so many people in this business do lack any sense of solidarity, or of the existence of a bigger picture. (Example: people who bitch about low rates, but think joining a union is a waste of money.) When I said I had politely parted ways with a new client who wanted me to sign something to say they would pay on publication and might never publish (ie I could potentially never get paid) with a total rights-grab, and who said they absolutely couldn’t modify the contract, most people told me I’d done the right thing. But a few people told me: “Well, not everyone can afford to be that fussy.” Oh yeah? The client said it had “never been a problem before”. So I guess some of those people who can’t afford to be “fussy” are probably still waiting for a fee that’s never actually going to arrive. Whereas if they’d grown a pair and been a bit “fussy”, the terms might just have got better for everyone. Being a doormat helps nobody – but too many people just can’t see that.

So a spaniel applied for a job this week. It’s entirely possible that a chinchilla and a cat applied, too, among others. They might’ve all belonged to hacks. Funny? Well maybe. But let’s be serious for a second. £5,700 a year for a 40-hour week? That’s £2.74 an hour.

A few choice facts for you: the National Minimum Wage is £3.57 an hour for under-18s, £4.83 for 18 to 21-year-olds, and £5.80 an hour for workers aged 22 or older. The National Council for Work Experience is very clear about work experience: you can’t use the term for just anything. National Minimum Wage legislation means UK employers can no longer offer unpaid work experience unless it’s part of a course of study. They do, but they shouldn’t. Accepted wisdom (to which I can’t now find the reference) says it’s OK for up to a month.

A few more facts for you: if you’re doing work experience (say, as an “editorial intern”) the company should make sure you don’t satisfy the workers test. You should not have a contract of employment, a contract to perform work or provide services, set hours where you’re obliged to work (and work you’re obliged to do within those hours), or be rewarded through money or benefits in kind.

If you do treat someone as a worker, you are obliged to pay them the National Minimum Wage. Voluntary workers are exempted from the NMW, but only genuine ones who work for charities, fundraising bodies, etc. Not wannabe journalists being taken for a ride.

Although of course there’s a queue of people wanting to work for nothing, like the girl I met who was covering film premieres for a glossy mag’s website. She’d been doing this for free for six months. I offered her some contacts who might pay for her material, and she looked aghast. “But they’re letting me write!” she exclaimed. And the sad thing is, some people won’t understand what’s wrong with that statement.