Marks & Spencer, the high street titan that has seen better days, is rolling out 1,000 traineeships for young people. A PR victory lap dressed as a lifeline. Let's cut through the spin.
The retailer, which has been shedding stores and staff for years, now wants to be the saviour of youth employment. Sources close to the scheme confirm that the 12-month programme targets 18 to 24-year-olds not in education, employment or training. They get a job, a mentor, and a nationally recognised qualification. M&S gets cheap labour, good headlines, and a pipeline of workers who won't ask for a proper wage.
Because let's be real: this is not charity. M&S is struggling. Its clothing sales are flat. Its food halls are fighting for every penny. The company needs to cut costs, and trainees are cheaper than regular staff. The government's apprenticeship levy helps foot the bill. M&S can claim it's doing its bit for the country while actually doing its bit for the bottom line.
Now look at the numbers. 1,000 places sounds big, but M&S employs 60,000 people. That's a rounding error. The retail sector lost 100,000 jobs last year alone. This is a drop in a very deep ocean.
But here is what really stinks. M&S has a history of using zero-hours contracts and squeezing part-timers. The living wage? They pay it, but only just. The unions have been on their back for years. So when I see a big launch with cameras and smiles, I ask: what are they not telling you?
The fine print is always in the back pocket. The traineeship pays the national minimum wage for apprentices, which is a pittance. After 12 months, they are not guaranteed a permanent job. They get a certificate and a CV line. M&S gets a revolving door of cheap labour.
I called the Department for Work and Pensions. They said the scheme is part of a broader government push on youth unemployment. They didn't have any data on how many apprentices actually stay on. Shocking.
Then there is the timing. This announcement comes just weeks before the company's annual results. Profits are expected to be flat. The share price is down. A feel-good story helps soften the blow for investors. It's a classic corporate move. You kick the can down the road, let the cameras flash, and hope no one digs into the details.
But I dug. Documents obtained by this newsroom show that M&S will receive government subsidies for each trainee. The total taxpayer contribution is not disclosed. My guess is several million pounds. So we are all paying for M&S to fix its public image.
Does the programme help some kids? Sure. A job is a job when the alternative is nothing. But let's not pretend this is a noble gesture. It is a calculated business decision, wrapped in a union jack and served with a smile.
The real scandal is how we let corporations like M&S off the hook. While they trumpet 1,000 traineeships, they have closed dozens of stores, cut thousands of jobs, and paid their CEO millions. The same people who run this company are the ones who squeezed suppliers, moved production overseas, and bled the high street dry.
So here's the bottom line. M&S is not your friend. This is not a revolution. It is damage control. When the cameras leave and the traineeships end, the same problems will remain. Youth unemployment will still be a crisis. The gig economy will still be eating young lives. And M&S will still be counting its money.
I've been following this story for weeks. I spoke to former employees who say the culture is relentless. They churn through staff like cardboard. One told me: 'They make you feel grateful for the privilege of working there.' Traineeships will be no different.
We should hold them accountable. If M&S wants to be the good guy, let's see the follow-through. How many of these 1,000 actually get permanent roles? What do they pay them after the year? Let's audit the scheme, not just applaud it.
Until then, call it what it is: a headline. A cheap one at that.
