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George Orwell demonstrated that the strongest writing almost always comes from a place of personal experience and direct observation. Through the last year, we’ve all been locked down. Many of us feeling like we know our towns, villages, streets and local parks better than ever before. With this year’s theme, it’s our goal to support you to think hard about your local environment, encourage you to trust your observations and use the authority you have to report and write creatively on the changes you’d like to see to create a better society, starting with what’s on your doorstep.

Scroll down for our resources and interactive ways to engage with the theme – and some suggested reading to spark ideas. In the meantime, we better start with George Orwell himself.

George Orwell and thinking small

Orwell provides an example of a writer who addressed, in the clearest terms, the major political issues of his day, from economic injustice at home to imperialism and totalitarianism abroad, while also taking deep pleasure in the things which make places and people unique. As a columnist for the magazine Tribune he would write about war in Europe one week, and English cookery the next. His belief in the importance of seeing for oneself was not limited to taking an active part in history, as he did in the Spanish Civil War and the Road to Wigan Pier: it was an everyday injunction. It was only by paying close attention to what is ‘in front of one’s nose’ that the ordinary citizen could equip themselves to resist the barrage of political propaganda they are subject to and see more clearly what steps were necessary to make the world a better place.

“To see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.”

In Front of One’s Nose, George Orwell

“I write… because there is some lie that I want to expose, some fact to which I want to draw attention, and my initial concern is to get a hearing.”

Why I Write, George Orwell

“Perhaps a man really dies when his brain stops, when he loses the power to take in a new idea.”

Coming Up for Air, George Orwell

Here are some examples of essays from The Orwell Foundation library, where Orwell starts small:

• In Front of Your Nose
• Some Thoughts on The Common Toad
• A Good Word For The Vicar of Bray
• The Lion and The Unicorn (1941)
• In Defence of English Cooking (1945)

The Need for a New Direction – Prompts

The world feels overwhelming at the moment. A pandemic, the looming threat of the climate crisis, increasing inequality, and the rise of big data seem insurmountable due to the sheer magnitude of the problems we face. At the same time, the urgency of these threats is galvanising young people like you into action but where do you start when these issues seem incomprehensibly large?

To get you started, you might want to consider:

• What does your support network look like? (is it a person, is it online, where is it?)
• What do you most like about where you live? What makes it unique?
• Think about your daily routine. Which bits do you look forward to, which bits could be better and who/what could help you improve your day-to-day?
• Go for a walk and examine the built environment and nature around you. What do you see? What is worth protecting? What steps can be taken to ensure that future generations can value the environment?
• Research the street names in your local area, who or what is represented? What’s interesting/disappointing/exciting about that?
• Many young people feel pessimistic about the possibility of changing the future. What do you think is the cause of this pessimism, and what steps can be taken by young people to regain their agency?
• The pandemic has increased our reliance on digital spaces and communities. Digital spaces can bring us together, provide entertainment, joy and help us learn, but constant connectedness also raises concerns about privacy, status anxiety and mental health. How do you relate to the online world? What problems can you identify with digital spaces? What could be done to address them?

Resources and reading

We’ve teamed up with writers, journalists and experts to create a series of resources around specific topics relating to this year’s theme: each resource includes an introduction to the topic and more prompts to get writing and researching, from creative writing to football.

Stories From the Ground Up: Local Journalism

• Learn about the importance of local journalism, and get some tips for trying your own, from the team at The Bristol Cable.

Politics, Football and Place

• Football teams are rooted in places, but that link is being shaken by globalisation. Wyn Grant, author of Political Football, explores the implications.

Ways into Creative Writing

• in a series of videos and prompts, poet Miriam Nash will help you play get writing about the places you know.

In addition, we are creating a reading list below for you to explore how to approach this question. We will update this list throughout the course of the prize, but your reading doesn’t have to be limited to it: be inquisitive and critically engage with news items and articles you read.

Climate Change and Local Action

Read

• Our very own Climate Change resource
• Pupils draft their own climate bill as anxiety grows over lack of guidance for schools, Louise Tickle, Guardian
• Policy Actions – 33 actions local authorities can take on climate change – Friends of the Earth
• ‘The Bristolian 17-year-old campaigning for racial justice in climate change movement’, Priyanka Raval, (The Bristol Cable)
• Author Q&A Daisy Hildyard – (Big Issue North)
• This small German town took back the power – and went fully renewable, Bertie Russell (The Conversation)

Listen

• The Climate Question Podcast: Introducing The Climate Question (BBC Sounds)

Orwell Youth Prize Inspiration

• Orwell Youth Prize Writing ‘Our Body Has A Virus’, collaborative poem from Orwell Youth Prize ‘Future Forum’ – March 2020

Education

Read

• ‘Just Change’ – Tyne & Wear Citizens – by Luke, Park View School
• ‘Summer on the Farm’ – Sharon Hendry, (The Sunday Times)
• How “cradle-to-career” schools provide all-round support and tackle inequality, Victoria Hirst, (The Conversation)
• Daisy Christodoulou ‘What skills will be needed in the economy of the future?’ (Blog)

Listen

• The Untold Podcast, ‘The School and the Depot’ (BBC Sounds)

Orwell Youth Prize Writing

• Orwell Youth Prize Writing ‘Knifepoint’, Jessica Tunks (OYP 2020)
• Orwell Youth Prize Writing ‘Teeth’, Silke Dale Brosig, (OYP 2019)
• Orwell Youth Prize Writing ‘The Aptitude Test Kid’, Nadia Lines (OYP 2019)

Public Spaces

Read

• The National Trust – Report on colonialism and historic slavery
• ‘Haringey street could be renamed La Rose Lane’ – Simon Allin, (Enfield Independent)
• ‘London becomes the world’s first national park city, committed to giving people access to nature’, Edward Trunch (The Conversation)
• ‘What difference would it make?’ – Jo Glanville (London Review of Books Blog)
• ‘Covid has finished off the old high street, but we can replace it with something better’, Owen Hatherly (The Guardian)

Listen

• Arts and Ideas Podcast ‘The Post-Covid City’ (BBC Sounds)

Watch

• Watch: The 2020 Orwell Lecture ‘Decolonising the Wonder House: Orwell Empire and Museum’ Tristram Hunt

Place and Identity

Read

• Mass Observation Project – Recording Everyday Life in Britain
• Black Lives Matter in Rural England (BBC news)
• The dark side of rural England’ James Bloodworth (UnHerd)
• ‘John Clare, poet of the Somewheres’ – Mary Harrington (UnHerd)
• ‘Irreversible Shift’ – This should be a single issue election, Omar Robert Hamilton (n+1)
• ‘Integrate, migrants are told. But can they ever be good enough for the likes of Blair?’ – Aditya Chakrabortty (The Guardian) – Shortlisted for The Orwell Prize for Journalism 2020
• ‘The Necessary Death of Orwell’s England’ Nick Cohen, Standpoint
• ‘A Portable Paradise’ – Poem by Roger Robinson
• ‘The Missing’ – Poem by Roger Robinson
• ‘London’ – Poem by William Blake

Listen

• Art and Ideas Podcast: ‘Individuals and Community’ (BBC Sounds)
• Witness Black History podcast – ‘The Battle of Lewisham’ (BBC Sounds)
• ‘United Kingdom’ Podcast by Zing Tsjeng (BBC Sounds)
• ‘A North West Story’ – ‘Have you heard George’s Podcast’ (BBC Sounds – Listen to more of George’s podcasts too!)
• ‘Landscapes, Real and Imaginary’ (BBC4 Start the Week)

Watch

• Anywhere but Westminster, John Harris and John Domokos (The Guardian)
• Darren McGarvey’s Scotland
• Britain on Film Map – (British Film Institute)
• ‘There is another way to Essex’ – (A review of ‘Excellent Essex’ by Gillian Darley)
• ‘Nowt but a fleeting thing: a young farmer’s fight for survival’ Guardian and Joseph Rowntree Foundation Documentaries (The Guardian)
• Roger Robinson talks about his work – T.S. Eliot Prize
• Nairn Across Britain – BBC iPlayer

Orwell Youth Prize Inspiration

• Orwell Youth Prize Writing, ‘Brick Lane: A Case Against Social and Ethnic Exclusion in Britain’, Asher Gibson (OYP 2019)

Work

Read

• ‘These furloughed pub staff are providing fresh food and hope to families in need’ – Hannah Vickers (The Bristol Cable)

Listen

• Podcast (Tech Tent) Tech and working life (BBC Sounds)

Orwell Youth Prize Inspiration

• Orwell Youth Prize Winning Writing, ‘IN WHICH PAPA (A SAILOR) GOES DEAD’, Irma Kiss Barath (OYP/YPN Political Poetry Prize)

Housing

Read

• ‘Public housing needs radical reform’, Matthew Thompson (The Conversation)

Listen

• Podcast: The House I Grew Up In (BBC Sounds)

Orwell Youth Prize Inspiration

• Orwell Youth Prize Writing, ‘Streets in the Sky’ Rosaleen Tite Ahern (OYP 2020)
• Orwell Youth Prize Writing ‘Designing for Distance’ Madeleine Hobern (OYP 2020)

Daily Life & The Self

Read

• Joan Didion ‘On Keeping a Notebook’

Listen

• Podcast ‘In Our Time: Authenticity’ (BBC Sounds)
• Podcast ‘The Digital Human: Connections’ (BBC Sounds)

Orwell Youth Prize Inspiration

• OYP writing ‘I lost my innocence in a hospital room, and no-one handed it in’, Hannah Hodgson

Local Democracy

Read

• ‘From Paternalism to Participation: How one London borough dealt with the Covid crisis and built a new collaborative institution’ Neal Lawson, Compass (2020)
• ‘Local Actions for Global Problems: Climate Change, communities and changing mindsets’ Luca Tiratelli, New Local
• ‘Left behind – life beyond the London Bubble’ James Bloodworth (UnHerd)
• ‘Hate globalisations? Try localism, not nationalism’, Kevin Albertson, (The Conversation)

Writing Advice (new writing, short stories, writers discuss their work)

Read

• New Writing North
• Our writing resources:
  • Guide to Style
  • Guide to Form
• Also remember that all youth prize winners and runners up from 2019 and 2020 gave their own writing advice, visible in interviews at the bottom of their pages

Listen

• Podcast ‘Short Story’
• Podcast ‘The Poet Laureate Has Gone to His Shed’

Watch

• Watch: The Orwell Prize Shortlist Conversations

If you have any further questions, suggestions, or thoughts, please get in touch with Alex Talbott, alextalbott@orwellyouthprize.co.uk

“In our age there is no such thing as “keeping out of politics.” All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia.”
– George Orwell

Intro 

After a tantalising build up, an indie game adaptation of George Orwell’s Animal Farm has just been released, and the Orwell Foundation office is excited about it. Aside from the tension and dark beauty of the games graphics and the close alignment to the original story, we’re excited because the game’s release has got us thinking hard about the power and potential of video games to help us shape and reflect on politics and the society we are a part of. With our expertise firmly grounded in the literary, we consulted Imre Jele, the designer of ‘Orwell’s Animal Farm Game’ and lifelong Orwell fan, to find out more about the how the idea for the game developed, his perception of the intersection between gaming and politics more broadly, and how the Orwell Youth Prize might be able to spur new thinking in this dynamic form.

Artwork – Orwell’s Animal Farm – Helen O’Dell

Why Animal Farm & Orwell? 

For Imre, the potential of Animal Farm crosses the personal, the political and the very structure of this globally treasured novella. Growing up in a communist country, he explained that the book was given to him by his grandparents as a child. As he grew older, he began to recognise the power and resonance of the allegory for his own life and those around him. Beyond the personal relevance, Imre cites the form of Animal Farm as a key inspiration, the book is ‘an ensemble of characters’ with ‘lots of hooks you can hang gaming storylines on. Furthermore, the farmyard setting, the mechanics of agriculture, ideas of growth and the changing seasons, are all devices that lend themselves to interpretation within a game without diverging too far from the original story. Finally, and perhaps most key, is the ongoing literary power and political relevance of Animal Farm, as Imre wittily puts it, ‘right now we’re facing the same issues of power that Animal Farm confronts and explores but this time with an HD screen and WIFI’. It is his hope that the game may spur players to ask questions of the society we’re currently in. For him, being a catalyst for new ways of seeing the world is the ultimate creative goal. 

Playing with the mechanics of government

Given Animal Farm’s story and roots, its new interpretation in game form is undoubtedly political, but what other political games are out there? Imre told us that the term ‘political games’ is misleading: there are endless ways to define ‘political’. We found out that in some games, the ‘politics’ are obvious, for example in ‘Democracy’ you are in charge of a government, embroiled in the mechanics of governing. The introduction to ‘Democracy’ asks, temptingly: 

Have you ever wanted to be president? or prime minister? Convinced you could do a better job of running the country? Let’s face it, you could hardly do a worse job than our current political leaders. Crime, Unemployment, National Debt, Terrorism, Climate Change…Have you got the answers to the problems that face western industrialized nations? Here is your chance to find out…

The intricacies of the political system modelled within ‘Democracy’ mean it has even been used by political scientists, and reviewers have argued that playing the game does much more than a citizenship lesson for helping us understand the balance and tensions of governing. Other games such as ‘Tropico’ similarly engage the player in tough decision making. In ‘Tropico’ you are responsible for managing an island and ultimately building a country, from scratch. In short, and perhaps troublingly, you become a dictator. However, the game includes a heavy dose of satire and some absurd scenarios, meaning the player has more distance from the social issues of our everyday.

Artwork, Orwell’s Animal Farm, Helen O’Dell

Political Themes 

Beyond the mechanics of government and nation building, other games take on explicitly political themes, a particularly successful example being the indie game ‘Papers, Please’, where the player becomes an immigration inspector controlling the flow of people entering the fictional communist state of Arstotzka. As the name indicates, it is your role to inspect the documents provided by travellers and determine their fate. Part of the game’s appeal is the way it forces you to confront complicated moral and ethical dilemmas. While Arstotzka is a fictional country, debates around immigration practice and procedure are ever-present. Though games like ‘Papers, Please’ provide new ways into these issues, we might also reasonably ask how far encountering them in a game helps us to understand them in real life, which will inevitably be more complicated.  

Napoleon concepts, Orwell’s Animal Farm, Helen O’Dell

Reception and representation 

Imre told us that there is a danger around the reception of political games such as ‘Papers, Please’ being seen to be a political platform with an explicit message. He challenges that idea, arguing that while ‘Papers, Please’ is political given its entanglement with ideas of oppression and national borders, it is not a game tied to a particular political ideology. 

For Imre, the more pressing problem is around the politics of representation and maintaining the development of progressive games that defy gaming stereotypes. Gaming, like any community around an artform, is a broad and diverse one.  However, this community is particularly active, filled with passion and passionate views about the best types of games and where gaming is going. Imre noted that a section of the gamer community upholds the view that ‘gaming is for fantasy’ and so oppose games grounded in a complex reality, and sometimes even those that challenge common racial or gender stereotypes. On a day-to-day level, this can manifest in new progressive games being ‘review bombed’ on gamer sites, where the tag ‘political’ has become a negative one – Imre likens this to a kind of cancel culture and emphasised that it is a real challenge, if gaming wants to grow as an artform. 

The Art of Political Games – thinking differently 

Where Imre is clear, and where we agree, is that gaming and game development is fertile ground for thinking about politics and society. So many of the innovative games that Imre champions are about social interactions, the impact of the individual and the consequences of decision making, covering activity such as managing the news (‘Not For Broadcast’) or running a small factory town (‘For the People’). The Orwell Foundation believes in the power of young people’s ideas communicated creatively and we know that fiction and storytelling enable us to think about society in new ways.

Thinking about the construction of gaming concepts and narratives shifts the perspective and possibilities of storytelling. The decisions of the player determine the storyline and often open up multiple futures. Gaming gives a more active role to the player (‘reader’) than other forms. The effect is complex, but clearly opens up new opportunities for experimentation. 

This year, we will be inviting young people to enter ‘game designs’ into the Orwell Youth Prize. As with all the forms we encourage entrants to experiment with, we are asking for game designs which respond to our theme. We won’t ask you to create a perfectly polished design, but for a brief summary of a game’s setting and mechanics that asks original questions and sets up creative scenarios that respond to our 2021 theme (to be announced later this month). More detailed submission advice will be available shortly. But for now, you can find more information and reading below. 

Farmer Jones concepts – Orwell’s Animal Farm – Helen O’Dell

Political games – find out more 

• Animal Farm Game 
• Papers, Please
• Beholder series
• Not For Broadcast
• Headliner: NoviNews
• The Westport Independent
• Orwell: Keeping an Eye On You
• Orwell: Ignorance is Strength
• For the People 
• Not Tonight series
• The Political Process
• Democracy
• Tropico
• 1979 Revolution 
• Frostpunk 

Further Reading/Watching

• Video games are political. Here’s how they can be progressive, Alfie Brown (Guardian) 
• The writing of Keza Macdonald – https://www.theguardian.com/profile/keza-macdonald 
• The writing of Keith Stewart –https://www.theguardian.com/profile/keithstuart 
• Watch: Click – https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/b006m9ry/click 
• Find out about – The Bafta Young Game Designer Awards 

Designing for distance: How can our architects most effectively respond to Coronavirus?

“Life after the Covid-19 outbreak will never be the same as before”, Ukrainian architect Sergey Mankho predicts, arguing that the way we design and build our homes will change substantially, and for the better. Now, more than ever, we wish for safety in our homes and health for our families, thus requiring designers of the future to consider solutions that can ease the stresses of a global pandemic, or even help prevention. Whether this be in our homes or in public spaces, I see the role of nature and combining indoor- outdoor living to be crucial in future architecture, for both our wellbeing and physical health.

In times of this crisis the home has become a retreat from virus and infection, so our designs in the future will need to protect our homes and serve to prevent further infection. In primitive times the functions of the house served as a hiding place from bad weather and predator animals, then fortresses were built to prevent the enemy from getting in. Today, people need a house that can effectively provide isolation and safety against virus. A rise in demand for ‘Smart Homes’ is easy to understand. Their programs will not only control the temperature of the air in the house as it can now, but also improve the air quality and automatically clean it if necessary. Preventing spread of infection, the outdoor environment will be physically separate from the inside of our houses, air will be filtered and a cleaning room will become the norm, with antiseptic dispensers and a space for deliveries and guests to enter the house. Alongside this, open plan living may be a thing of the past, where, in the aftermath of the pandemic the entrance area will be separated so we can leave our shoes, clothing and belongings instead of carrying germs into our safe living quarters. Whilst germs may be a strong consideration, working from home is going to change house plans drastically where we dedicate separate rooms for offices. However, one of the most important things we can learn from lockdown, is the value of a garden. Only one in eight British households have a garden, and in times of isolation we appreciate nature and a space to take a breath of fresh air, away from the dense rooms of a city townhouse or 1930 semi. In light of this, there will be less value in high rise buildings as homemakers will be on the hunt for homes with gardens and outdoor relaxation areas, city blocks and tiny flats will be less desirable. For years, these blocks were designed to organise as many people as possible in one confined space. Health and hygiene were not a top priority for design. In times of pandemic, it is essential to reduce contact with surfaces, lifts, lift buttons, door handles and above all, neighbours. As a consequence, will the desire to live in cities deteriorate? It is important to note that without a need to commute or with fear of high-risk spreading infection, country life may become much moreappealing in the aftermath of Coronavirus. Here, architects need to embrace our connection and affiliations with our outdoor world and design in response to our desires.

Not only is this a problem in the home, but the city is also in need of attention to change. With a sudden demand for homes with gardens and more green spaces around our living environments, the city life as we remember it, busy with commuters and business men and women, may not be the same again. Andrew Cuomo, governor of New York state tweeted at the end of March that “there is a density level in NYC that is destructive,” highlighting the risk that overpopulated spaces can cause in times of a pandemic. It may even be suggested that we reduce the size of our cities and create ‘walkable cities’ where we walk to what we need, reducing public transport spreading infection, notes Wouter Vanstiphout. With high- rise buildings becoming more of a risk, this could have a knock-on effect on our skylines, becoming more expensive and less efficient to build, they become less economically attractive to builders and developers. However, technology can tackle the problem of high-rise buildings or office spaces in the city. For example, lifts can be called from a smartphone, avoiding the need to press buttons to get inside or out, and office doors will open automatically using sensors and facial recognition. Not only will this reduce contact but also improve our security within the city – changing the way we build. An increasing interest for open spaces and appreciation for our natural surroundings means it is essential for architects and landscape planners to work together to design public spaces fit for distancing. In all public spaces, shopping centres, parks and markets must be considered to keep the ‘2 metre’ distance and tackling the spread of germs on surfaces. Architects have already designed fibreglass frames to keep social distancing in practice for public spaces. In pathways, this may be addressed too, plans have been put in place in cities across Europe and America to take street space away from cars in order to free up space for cyclists and pedestrians, allowing for the distance necessary in the event of a pandemic. And from all of this, it is most evident to notice our need for nature and how architects must consider our need for public spaces, even if 2 metre apart.

Therefore, in both the home and city we are aware of our need of nature, something that architects can most importantly learn from the pandemic. This may even avoid problems of people migrating to the country and out of the city with simple renovation of including outdoor space, to improve mental health in times of isolation of full lockdown in the future. Gardens and access to public spaces nearby are a thing of luxury at the moment, where one eighth of Britons are left without. In recent studies it is shown just how much we need natural affiliations to support our wellbeing. Edward Wilson’s study of Biophilia notes just that, of how we often feel restored when we spend time in nature, and how we can incorporate this into architectural design. Time spent in nature can cause lower stress, a balanced nervous system, increased levels of cancer fighting natural killing cells and most importantly, lowering rates of anxiety and depression. GPs in Manchester have even gone to the lengths of prescribing pot plants to patients to improve wellbeing and mental health. The phytoncides released from trees and plants are known to enhance immune function, ideal for times of virus, whilst also relaxing the body and reducing stress, therefore including it in designs within the home and our public spaces is a simple way architects can effectively respond to the virus.

In conclusion, the most effective way for architects to respond to the coronavirus pandemic is by embracing our natural surroundings in future design. Responding to the virus, it is more apparent than ever that we want a future of happiness and safety away from virus and threat of infection. We must appreciate the fact that we need a green environment to support our wellbeing in uncertain times of lockdowns and ‘endless’ isolation. Tackling the way we design homes consists of considering home offices, less open plan living and using technology to refresh the air and provide a barrier between indoor/ outdoor air particles. However, this does not mean a smart home cannot involve the outdoors within its interior, it just simply means we must cleanse the air that mixes within our retreats from the virus- the home. Whilst also giving attention to our cities, the element of social distancing will become essential in future designs, ensuring healthy and safe environments, whereby architects will work together globally to prevent the spread of infection through our buildings. In both designing for the public and designing for the family at home, I see the future of architecture as full of green spaces, embracing our natural environments and putting our global health as a new priority. The future we want is happy, and the future we want is healthy, our future is shaped by our surrounding architecture.

***

This piece is speculative in the sense that it imagines the future that might arise from the current pandemic and hints at a wholesale change in architectural thinking to account for the need to be socially distant. The author has a clear sense of imaginative flair which might have been mirrored by a little more expressive flair across the piece. That said, this is a well-researched piece with some genuine insights to offer its readers. 

Kayo Chongonyi, Orwell Youth Prize Judge

Madeleine Hobern is a senior Orwell Youth Prize 2020 Runner Up, responding to the theme ‘The Future We Want’.

What was the inspiration for your piece?

My main inspiration was the world we were living in, in a pandemic that affected everybody on earth. It was almost impossible to ignore. Given my interest in architecture, hoping to study it next year at university, I wanted to fully gauge how our world can change in the built environment after Covid-19.

What is your one tip to young writers?

Get stuck in! Don’t be scared to start writing, although it is always the hardest part. Always write about something that you genuinely enjoy or can’t get bored of easily, this makes writing a lot easier and more enjoyable.

Given the global pandemic, has your idea about the future you want changed since you wrote the piece?
My view was very much centred around the pandemic, I believe that our houses and public spaces will change for the better, keeping us safe from virus and infection. Although rules are relaxing across the globe, I still see it as vital to keep Coronavirus in mind when designing spaces for people to live, work and play in for the future.

Nobody seemed to notice when Tommy vanished. James and I did, we’d known him since primary school, but no one else seemed to care. He’s not been seen since. There’s been a few rumours going around school about how he’s been spotted working in an office in Moss Side, which would be illegal considering he only got Band 3. His disappearance never sat well with James, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Tommy just left and never got picked up during the clearing.

It was our turn now. James walked beside me through the corridors, which had an almost clinical feel from the excessive cleaning that had been done in preparation for the news crew. It was far different from how it had felt for the past five years, aside from the loose wire hanging from the light fixture, which school still couldn’t afford to fix even though it appeared two years ago. James’ eyes flickered, glancing at every display and picture but not once at his envelope.

“You’re not even the one who should be stressing James. Just don’t worry about it.” I said, trying to reassure him, “I mean, Miss has been saying you should get Band 1 all year.”

“It’s not about that anymore is it?”, he snapped, “Doesn’t even matter what Miss said, Mum still thinks I can be a doctor, she doesn’t understand how hard it is to get into Band 1 for people like us.”

“Yeah hard if you can’t afford it”, I replied, trying to lighten the mood. It was one of our inside jokes that we’d had since the university scandal a few years back – before they decided to change the system to make it more ‘meritocratic’. James didn’t reply, his eyes fixed on his phone. “If you do get Band 2 it won’t be that bad, you can still get a decent job. It’s only Band 3 you have to worry about. No wonder Tommy vanished.”

“I don’t blame him”, James muttered as he started to walk towards his bus stop.

“Text me once you’ve opened it!” I called after him.

The weather was dreary as usual, the clouds painted the sky with a murky haze and a sharp wind nipped my fingers as I walked home. I wasn’t expecting much, there was no way I could get into Band 1 – hardly anyone did from round here – and even Band 2 seemed out of reach because I’d never been that clever in school, especially compared to James. Since the tests in Year 6 he was miles ahead of everyone else, in science particularly. Never failed to help anyone though.

***

By the time I arrived home, Mum was already at work, but Dad and Nan were in the living room with the TV blasting at full volume. They had it so loud that neither of them had noticed me come in.

“So, you’re telling me that you have to be a teacher if you get put in the second Band?” Nan asked, peering over her glasses as dad sighed.

“No. There are other jobs too like administration and accounting, you don’t have to be teacher”, he explained.“So then why does everyone in the third Band have to work in those internet warehouses or be left with nothing?”, she nagged, “I don’t want our Jake to be left with that, I thought those robots did it all now anyway!”.

The argument didn’t seem to be ending, so I gritted my teeth and went into the living room. “Oh, look who it is! What did you get Jake?” It was no surprise that Nan was the first to ask as the tension disappeared, replaced with a flicker of hope. “Not opened it yet”, I replied, as I slumped onto the settee. Deep down, I already knew that whatever result I got, nothing I ever did, or could do would change the Band I was assigned, but they didn’t understand that.

The news on the TV blared in the background, “The controversial Band system enacted just two years ago in 2027 was designed to find the most capable…” They started reeling out statistics about the number of Band 1 students, apparently on the rise this year, although hardly anyone from our school had managed it. “And now, reporting live from a local grammar school in Buckinghamshire, where a record 87 students have placed In Band 1 this morning. So…”

“Well go on then”, Dad said, giving me a nudge. Slowly, I tore the seal of the envelope and peeked inside. ‘BAND 2’ was stamped across the sheet. It was difficult to miss, as was my huge sigh of relief. I was safe. Free from the fears of being trapped in the ‘underclass’, which was what everyone at school called Band 3 students.

“Band 2!” I said, unable to hide my smile. The newsreader continued: “Charity groups fear more student disappearances, but government officials insist…” I tried to ignore it and texted James.

‘Band 2! You?’

The wait seemed to last forever. ‘2’, he replied eventually.

‘That’s pretty good, right? We can go to the Work Bureau together. I told you you’d be fine!’

James didn’t reply, and I didn’t think much of our conversation – after all, Band 2 was great for us. It meant that we could choose between a few jobs and we could stay in education for a bit longer, which was much better than we expected.

***

That morning, time seemed to pass so quickly. Dad made a big fuss about my Band and I’d forgotten about my conversation with James. It was hours later when we heard a faint knock on the door. I rushed over, hoping to see James, but instead I was shocked to see his mum, Julie.

“James isn’t here, is he?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No, I texted him a few hours ago though, why wha-”

“And he replied?”

“Yeah, he got Band 2, did you not know?”

“I haven’t seen him since he went to get his results…he’s not come home. Did he tell you where he was going?” Her voice cracked, and her eyes flashed with fear as the uncertainty of James’ situation dawned on her.

It had dawned on me too. I grabbed my phone and headed outside to call James. No answer. I started walking, trying to think where he might go. Surely James wouldn’t do the same as Tommy? He always insisted, or perhaps boasted, that he didn’t really care about the band he got.

I passed our old primary school. James had been quite sure of himself back then, he’s changed since the Band system started. Before I knew it, I’d walked to school, where flocks of people gathered around the TV crew. Maybe James was there, waiting to be interviewed. I pushed my way through the crowd – he wasn’t there.

They were talking to Josh, who moved to our school halfway through the year. It looked like he had just become the first Band 1 student our school had produced, even though he was nowhere near as smart as James. Apparently his parents were lawyers though, which wasn’t hard to tell as he was driven to school in a brand new car every morning.

For a second, I thought about getting in front of the camera myself. Maybe if people knew why students were vanishing and that they weren’t just numbers they would care more. But I couldn’t. Freedom of speech is real, but freedom of opinion is not. As I backed away I checked my phone. Still nothing from James. I started to walk back home, hoping that he had turned up. Hope. It became clear to me then. People who had hoped for a better future than what our parents had, like me and James, were never meant to be in Band 1, just like Josh would never have been in Band 2 or even Band 3, like Tommy.

Tommy. The thought of him suddenly made my blood run cold. He was just another statistic. We all were.

Including James. They found his body whilst clearing the woods the following day. He’d left a note with just two words: ‘Sorry Mum’.

***

“Do you want a brew Jake?”, Nan called from the kitchen, “It’ll make you feel better”.

“Not really” I mumbled whilst flicking through the news channels. She soon came into the living room with a mug of tea, glancing at the TV as she sat next to me. “Cheer up now, at least you got the band you wanted.”

The news droned with statistics. James was one of around 5,400 this year, but even this figure seemed played down. It didn’t take long for people to forget him. He was a normal case; the news was only concerned with the ones who made the band system look good, the ones who made it.

They couldn’t choose either. None of us could, our futures were fixed. They always were.

***

Jessica Johnson was an Orwell Youth Prize Senior Winner in 2019, responding to the theme ‘A Fair Society?’. We asked her where she got her inspiration for ‘A Band Apart’ and what motivates her to write: 

What was the inspiration behind your piece? – The inequality between schools in the UK, whether it be between the North and the South or state and independent, is what made me want to write my piece. I go to a state school in the North, so it’s something that directly affects me and I felt it was important to give a student’s perspective on the matter.

‘Why I Write’ – I’m inspired by what goes on around me, so I like to write about things which seem really normal to us because they’re so ingrained into our society, but have a massive impact on individuals. Inequality in the education system is an example of this.

Advice to fellow young writers – I would encourage them to write about something they feel passionate about, but also to be open to criticism and to write and re-write their pieces.

A piece of writing that has influenced me – I’m definitely influenced by Orwell a lot in my writing, but I also took aspects of ‘The Pedestrian’ by Ray Bradbury in helping to form a dystopian short story, and ‘The Class Game’ by Mary Casey to get a better feel for the dialect between the characters.

The late Professor Sir Bernard Crick instituted the George Orwell Memorial Trust with the royalties from the hardback version of his Orwell: A Life, one of the definitive biographies of the man born Eric Blair. In 1993, he launched the Orwell Prize in its present form, and served as chair of the judges until the 2006 Prize.

He was Emeritus Professor of Birkbeck College, University of London, and an Honorary Fellow of the Politics Department of Edinburgh University after moving to Edinburgh in 1984. He began his teaching career as a Teaching Fellow at Harvard, taught at McGill for a year before returning to teach at the LSE from 1956 to 1967 and was the first professor of Politics at Sheffield from 1967 to 1973, thereafter at Birkbeck. His publications include The American Science of Politics, The Reform of Parliament, In Defence of Politics, Essays on Politics and Literature, Political Thoughts and Polemics, To Make the Scottish Parliament a Model for Democracy (with David Miller), Essays on Citizenship, and Democracy: a Very Short Introduction.

For many years editor of The Political Quarterly, he was joint founder of the Study of Parliament Group, first president of the Politics Association (teachers) in the 1970s and recently President of the Association for Citizenship Teaching. A Vice-President of the Political Studies Association, in 1997 he became chairman of the advisory group whose report The Teaching of Citizenship and Democracy in Schools led to the introduction of Citizenship in the English National Curriculum. In 2001 he chaired the ‘Life in the UK’ Advisory Group, set up to advise the Home Secretary on the method, conduct and implementation of a ‘Life in the United Kingdom’ naturalisation test, publishing their report in 2003 as The New and the Old. He was adviser on Active Citizenship to the Home Office from 2003-04. He formally inaugurated UCL’s Department of Political Science in May 2005.

Sir Bernard stepped down as both Chair of the Orwell Trust, and as an Orwell Trustee, in May 2008. He passed away in December 2008.

• Andrew Gamble: Sir Bernard Crick (Oxford Dictionary of National Biography)

Obituaries

• An Appreciation by David Blunkett, The Guardian
• Andrew Gamble, The Guardian
• Trevor Smith, The Guardian
• Patrick Seyd, The Guardian
• Jackie Ashley, The Guardian
• Letters, The Guardian
• News report, The Guardian
• Dennis Kavanagh and D. J. Taylor, The Independent
• The Times
• Lives Remembered, The Times
• Daily Telegraph
• Sunday Telegraph
• The Scotsman
• Sunder Katwala and Anthony Barnett, openDemocracy
• Stuart White, Fabian Society
• United Press International

D. J. Taylor writes: Most biographers enjoy fairly short-term relationships with their subjects. Bernard Crick’s association with George Orwell, on the other hand, lasted for the best part of three and a half decades. Having negotiated the immensely tricky obstacle of Orwell’s widow, Sonia, to produce his ground-breaking George Orwell: A Life (1980), which all subsequent Orwell biographers have taken as their starting point, he then devoted himself to a series of projects intended to perpetuate Orwell’s legacy.

Most of these took place under the auspices of the George Orwell Memorial Trust, which he founded in 1980, the contribution from his own hardback royalties being matched by David Astor, Orwell’s son, Richard Blair, and the three papers to which Orwell had been most consistently attached, The Observer, the Manchester Evening News and Tribune. The Trust began by continuing an existing scheme of Crick’s to fund projects by writers whose work Orwell might have been expected to approve, before changing track in the mid-1980s to establish annual lectures in his memory at Birkbeck and Sheffield University.

Then in 1993 came the most imaginative scheme of all – the founding, with sponsorship from Political Quarterly, of two annual awards for journalism and literature. From humble beginnings, and a modest budget, the Orwell Prizes have in recent years developed into one of the highlights of the UK publishing calendar, a process in which Crick himself was intimately involved. In the midst of an exacting professional regime, he worked tirelessly on the Trust’s behalf, zealously recruiting new blood, drumming up support for the prizes and shamelessly soliciting favours from the highly placed friends in whom his address book abounded.

His most striking characteristic, when hot on the Orwell trail, was his disinterestedness. Grand academic eminences very often turn chilly in the face of upstart competition: Crick, by contrast, was a notable supporter of younger scholars and critics, always on hand with encouraging letters and appreciative reviews. Orwell studies is forever in his debt.

Gavin Freeguard writes: Through the Orwell Prize, and throughout his public life, Bernard sought to encourage political engagement – good political thought, and good political writing, for a civic purpose, and for the many and not the few. In an epilogue to his magnum opus, In Defence of Politics, he wrote:

Political philosophy has become an academic discipline of the highest scholarly standards, both in publications and in intellectual debate. But it has become almost entirely internalized. It has lost any public voice. We talk to ourselves loudly and brilliantly. When celebrated break-outs are made, as if political philosophers might have something to say to politicians and to those who act like citizens (a pity the word ‘activist’ is tarnished), then even the style, mental vigour and fame of an Isaiah Berlin would not reach beyond a small intellectual community who are far less politically involved and far less ‘public-spirited’ than in the past. Professionalism now seems to have become an end in itself. Some thinking and writing must always be for the concerns of a profession; but there is something at once tragic and highly comic (in a Swiftian way) in a profession of politics that has so little contact with the activities of politics.

Not that I argue for commitment. That is too easy an answer, and sometimes there has been too much of that… I argue only for relevance and an independent-minded critical engagement, not uncritical commitment or loyalty to a party. ‘A writer’, said Orwell, ‘cannot be a loyal member of a political party.’… Few people now believe that the analytical methods of academic political philosophers should have any relevance to the political thinking of ordinary citizens. This should not be so.

In writing In Defence of Politics (copies of which circulated in the USSR and Pinochet’s Chile) and his other works; in chairing reviews for the Home Office which led to the introduction of Citizenship to the National Curriculum and the Life in the United Kingdom naturalisation test; in teaching thousands of students at Birkbeck, Sheffield, Edinburgh, the LSE, Harvard and McGill; and in founding the Orwell Prize, it was ‘relevance and an independent-minded critical engagement’, and a narrowing of the gap between the profession of politics and the activities of politics, which Bernard sought to promote.

Bernard had many things in common with George Orwell, in whose name he founded this Prize. He was asked by one Derbyshire miner who had read one of his works, ‘Ay, I gets all that; but does thee not believe in anything, Professor lad?’ Bernard’s reply was ‘I am a democratic socialist’, a label that might also be applied to Orwell (despite Eric Blair’s various other self-descriptions, such as ‘Tory anarchist’). But like Orwell, this was not at the expense of thinking critically, of always questioning, of being willing to be contrarian, or defending even unorthodox views with a stubborn passion. He encouraged others to think freely. And he always sought to express his own views simply, clearly and with the weight of understanding and consideration, taking great pleasure – like Orwell – in both his ideas, and the words in which they were expressed.

The establishing of political order is not just any order at all; it marks the birth, or the recognition, of freedom. For politics represents at least some tolerance of differing truths, some recognition that government is possible, indeed best conducted, amid the open canvassing of rival interests. Politics are the public actions of free men. Freedom is the privacy of men from public actions…

Politics is too often regarded as a poor relation, inherently dependent and subsidiary; it is rarely praised as something with a life and character of its own. Politics is not religion, ethics, law, science, history, or economics; it neither solves everything, nor is it present everywhere; and it is not any one political doctrine, such as conservatism, liberalism, socialism, communism, or nationalism, though it can contain elements of most of these things. Politics is politics, to be valued as itself, not because it is ‘like’ or ‘really is’ something else more respectable or peculiar. Politics is politics. The person who wishes not to be troubled by politics and to be left alone finds himself the unwitting ally of those to whom politics is a troublesome obstacle to their well-meant intentions to leave nothing alone.

Sir Bernard Crick
In Defence of Politics

Caitlin Moran to judge the 2019 Orwell Youth Prize

We are delighted to announce that writer Caitlin Moran is judging this year’s Orwell Youth Prize, the theme of which is ‘A Fair Society?’.

Following Orwell’s example, entrants of the prize are encouraged to draw on their own experiences of the world around them and write in language that is clear, concise and compelling for their audience. The form the writing takes is up to the writer, previous winning entries have included poetry, prose, journalism and short stories. Moran will judge both the junior (aged 12-16) and the senior (sixth-form) categories of the prize and the winners will be announced at the annual Celebration Day on the 5^th July.

Moran’s work has often drawn on her own childhood and teenage experiences with humour, wit and integrity and the youth prize is excited to have her on board with this year’s competition.

‘If you don’t come from the “right” background or school, it’s hard to know how to break into writing as a career. Who do you talk to? How do you apply?  That’s why I’m delighted to judge this year’s Orwell Youth Prize – as my career started when I entered a writing competition, at the age of 15, so I know just how life-changing awards can be. It might not feel like it, but there really is a whole industry waiting to discover new voices. Please – write something. Show us what you’ve got.’ Caitlin Moran 

Caitlin Moran wrote her first novel, The Chronicles of Narmo, at the age of fifteen. She has worked for The Times since she was eighteen as an interviewer, TV critic and columnist including, in the most-read part of the paper, the satirical celebrity column ‘Celebrity Watch’. She has won the British Press Awards’ Columnist of The Year, Interviewer of the Year, and Critic of the Year. Her bestselling memoir, How to be a Woman, won the National Book Awards Book of the Year, was an instant New York Times bestseller, and is published in twenty-five languages. The film of her novel, How to Build a Girl, produced by Channel 4 and Monumental Pictures, will be released later this year. With her sister, she co-wrote the Channel 4 sitcom Raised by Wolves. She has published two bestselling collections of her journalism, Moranthology and Moranifesto. Caitlin Moran’s latest novel, How To Be Famous, was a number one bestseller on publication in 2018. She is published by Penguin Random House in the UK and HarperCollins in the US.

Caitlin isn’t her real name. She was named Catherine. But she saw ‘Caitlin’ in a Jilly Cooper novel when she was 13 and thought it looked exciting. That’s why she pronounces it incorrectly: ‘Catlin’. It causes trouble for everyone.

About the Orwell Youth Prize

The Orwell Youth Prize is an annual programme for 12-18 year olds culminating in a writing prize. Rooted in George Orwell’s values of integrity and fairness, the prize is designed to introduce young people to the power of language and provoke them to think critically and creatively about the world in which they are living.

For more information and details contact: Alex Talbott, Programme Manager, The Orwell Youth Prize, alextalbott@orwellyouthprize.co.uk

1995
Risk – Professor Anthony Giddens

1994
But is it Socialism? – Rt. Hon. Roy Hattersley MP

1993
Changing the Legal Culture – Helena Kennedy QC

1992
Socialist Values – Robin Cook MP

1991
Fiction and Agnosticism – Penelope Lively

1990
Must Revolutions Fail? – Sir Ralf Dahrendorf

1989
Big Brother, Big Sister and Today’s Media – Bruce Kent

She sits on a slightly damp IKEA sofa, head in her hands and feeling it sag under her weight, sighing so deeply her whole body shakes. The sounds of smashing glass punctuate her thoughts. She can’t even remember the elation she felt yesterday, nor the anger of last night, for this new revelation has shaken her to her very core. It beggars belief – not how an entire population can be fooled so easily- but how fragile hope is: once shattered, the shards will always remain, embedded in your skin, hair, crawling inside your very mind, a constant reminder of how easily you were hoaxed.

It had all stemmed from a single fact. The people had no longer trusted their politicians. Or maybe we had never trusted them, and it was only now that the politicians had begun to realise. Either way, at the time it had seemed like the perfect solution. She is drawn back to the day that tiny green light was first seen on national television, and how it had been a beacon of hope that had single-handedly revived an entire population exhausted with mistrust. The hope that had increased the percentage of the population who voted from thirty to almost ninety percent. The hope that had been hailed as the saviour of democracy in the Western world.

And that hope came from a single application: Himmeä. Released in 2021, it employed the use of advanced facial recognition software, drawing on the past examples of Snapchat and Samsung, as well as on their wealth of data. This data was then uploaded and analysed so as to detect and interpret the movement of every facial feature: the twitch of an eyelid, a purse of the lips, the movement of blood; every tell-tale sign that a person was lying, and compiled into a single network that claimed to provide one hundred percent accurate and non-invasive lie detection. And it was to be used exclusively on politicians.

In the first few months after its release, the entire political world was shaken. Britain declared a state of emergency as riots shook the streets of London, the crowds incensed, first by the refusal of their government to follow the examples of their peers and implement the system, and then by the sight of the red light flashing on their Prime Minister’s wrist virtually every time she opened her mouth. It wasn’t that they hadn’t known: everyone had known, but the constant visual reminder and the unwillingness of the establishment to actually do anything about it was jarring. It had turned out that Himmeä was far more sensitive than originally thought; picking up on not only lies but exaggerations, euphemisms, prevarications; essentially rendering political language as a whole, useless. Himmeä had accomplished its purpose; it had provided evidence. But what good was evidence if there was to be no justice? For a while, it seemed as if the world was to collapse under the weight of honesty, but after eight long nights, England’s Prime Minister resigned, and like a phoenix rising from the ashes of a burning country, a new system formed. It was painful, and it was long, but finally, there were MPs that had their communities behind them, a new generation of teenagers who actually trusted their politicians; the world was a better place, and everyone had agreed that it had been worth it. Until now. Until the inevitable loophole that would prove the cynics right once again. Never trust a politician they cried, this is too good to be true. They said that the system could never be reformed by those in power when they had naught to gain. But she hadn’t listened.

It had all happened so fast.

In fact, until half an hour ago, she had never even heard of any allegations of misconduct on part of the British government in Eritrea; that’s how little attention anyone paid to political discourse nowadays. But they had really screwed up this time. She looks again at the viewer count. It’s virtually unreadable the numbers are changing so fast, but there are more than seven digits and it’s climbing. She presses play again, watching her Prime Minister: the man she had voted for, had trusted wholeheartedly, stood outside number ten Downing Street, no podium, no sheath of papers -those too had been left behind in the pre-Himmeä world- under a beautiful blue sky and assured the world -his unflinching gaze finding the camera and holding it – that the British government had never, and would never employ the use of non-human combat forces in an active war zone. He cited international laws and arms agreements, spoke briefly on their limited use of drones and stressed the importance of minimising civilian casualties. His face is resolute, his tone strong and sure, betraying not a hint of uncertainty, almost self-righteous in indignation, but most importantly, the light above his wrist is a gentle green, flashing steadily with his heartbeat. And that terrifies her. She can imagine how many people had watched that speech, glanced at his wrist, and immediately registered his words as fact because that’s exactly what she would’ve done. There was no reason for distrust. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Himmeä.

But they had all been taken for fools. All sixty-two point seven nine million Britons who had voted in the general election had been hoaxed, and they had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker for more than eleven years. Because exactly two hours -down to the second- after the speech had aired, cold, conclusive and simply irrefutable evidence had come to light proving that the government of the United Kingdom were entailing the use of android soldiers in the ongoing conflict in Eritrea, despite the multiple international laws that forbade it. They had been lied to. But they had been made to believe that that was impossible. It was the greatest feat a politician could achieve: to make the masses believe that every word from his mouth was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, to remove the very word ‘cynic’ from common vocabulary, to make the words ‘politician’ and ‘lie’ completely dissociate.

It didn’t even matter how they had done it. She doesn’t want to know. The flow of information had been contaminated, and her very being crawled with an emotion very near to revulsion at the very thought of ever again believing a word that slithered over his slimy lips. She feels dirty, almost violated, but this is unlike any other violation she has experienced. Others had forced themselves on her, but this was the first time she had been compliant in her own debasement; the first time she had felt mentally defiled like she couldn’t trust her own judgement. How could she have gotten everything so wrong? How could she have been so utterly naive?

And as she sits on a slowly deflating grey sofa, she thinks of a quote she had once heard. ’Can anyone maintain power without lying? It looks to me like living without breathing.’

Hope truly is a dangerous thing and as the night deepens, she can hear the streets coming alight again for the first time in decades.