Marks & Spencer, the ailing high-street giant that has been fighting off the vultures for years, has quietly rolled out a 1,000-place traineeship scheme. Sources confirm the programme, branded as a lifeline for British youth, will place school-leavers and young unemployed into its stores, warehouses and head office. But let’s not get misty-eyed. This is M&S: a company that has slashed thousands of jobs over the past decade. Is this a genuine bid to tackle youth unemployment, or a slick PR move to burnish a tarnished image?
The details, obtained from internal documents, show the “M&S Futures” scheme is a six-month paid placement. Participants will rotate through roles in retail, logistics and even corporate functions. The company boasts it will teach “transferable skills” and offer a pathway to permanent jobs. But a former manager, speaking on condition of anonymity, told me the scheme is “cheap labour dressed up as charity”. He said: “They’ll work them hard, pay them peanuts, and if they’re lucky they might get a shelf-stacking job at the end.”
M&S is a political darling. It has been held up by successive governments as a British success story. And now, with unemployment soaring among the under-25s, this announcement looks like a lifeline. But we must ask: why now? The company is in the midst of a brutal cost-cutting drive. It has closed dozens of stores, shuttered its European operations and shifted supply chains overseas. This traineeship costs them almost nothing. The government’s apprenticeship levy funds part of it. The rest is covered by the reduced wages they pay trainees, far below the national average.
Yet the optics are perfect. The headlines write themselves: “M&S invests in young Britain.” The politicians will queue up to applaud. But dig deeper. The traineeship is designed to funnel young people into low-paid, precarious work. There is no guarantee of a full-time job at the end. And those who do get hired will face the same casualised contracts that have blighted the high street for years. Zero-hours deals, split shifts, all the hallmarks of modern retail slavery.
Let’s not forget M&S’s record. In 2018, it announced 1,400 job cuts. In 2021, another 7,000. These trainees will be replacing workers who were forced out to cut costs. And now they want us to believe they are building a bridge to the future?
I called their press office. They gave me the usual corporate spin: “We are committed to nurturing talent and giving young people the start they deserve.” I asked about the pay. They would not confirm the exact figure, but sources say it is below the real living wage. I asked about permanent job rates for past trainees. They said it was “too early to say”. This scheme has run previously on a smaller scale. I have seen the numbers: less than a third of trainees were kept on.
So here is the truth. M&S is not a charity. It is a struggling retailer trying to survive. And if that means exploiting young people’s desperation, so be it. The government will celebrate this as a private sector solution. But for the thousands of school-leavers who will queue for these places, hoping for a future, the reality will be long hours, low pay and a one-way ticket to the gig economy.
I have followed the money. I have read the documents. This is not a rescue. This is a rescue for the balance sheet. The young are the collateral.
