The dark, sad eyes always betrayed the hurt and desperation that lurked behind them. “Gissa job,” Yosser Hughes would say, “I can do that.”

Yosser was the creation of playwright Alan Bleasdale, who wrote Boys From the Blackstuff, the 1980 TV series that dealt with the shutting down of Britain’s old industries – steel, coal, shipbuilding – and the devastated landscape left behind.

Margaret Thatcher got rid of the old jobs but had few new ones to put in their place. It made a jobless wilderness of Liverpool, where Blackstuff was set.

Yosser, unforgettably played by Bernard Hill, all bristly ’tache and brooding menace, was the embodiment of lives going to waste.

Are we heading down that path all over again? You bet we are. There’s a perfect storm coming, of a stagnant economy, a post-war recession and Artificial Intelligence (AI) – all waiting to eat our jobs.

The next jobless figures are out in  three weeks. I predict they will not be pretty. Here’s why.

Chancellor Rachel Reeves promised to strive for economic growth when Labour came to power. It was a pillar of their manifesto; it always is. But did they mean it?

The first opportunity she had to prove it – the autumn Budget – she brought in measures to ensure that it could not possibly grow significantly. She piled £26 billion of taxes upon already record high taxes, drawing 1.7 million more people, the ones who could least afford it, into the net.

She put up employers’ National Insurance contributions, scrapped the two-child benefit cap, which is just now coming into effect. She raised both the national living wage and the national minimum wage.

No one begrudges a little more for the poorer paid but it doesn’t work quite like that. The hard-pressed boss looks at the figures and says: “That’s it, we’re not hiring anyone else.”

That means more and more of those who aspire to work will know Yosser Hughes’s pain.

Yosser was a renowned hard man, feared for his nose-flattening headbutt. Those of a certain age might remember the scene in which Yosser comes up against an unhelpful jobcentre clerk.

The clerk explains that he is “afraid” he can’t do anything for Yosser.

“Afraid?” says Yosser. “Y’ll be terrified in a minute. Now sort me soddin’ Giro cheque out before I knock y’into the disability department.”

The UK managed a paltry 0.1 per cent growth in the fourth quarter of 2025. Reeves, in her Spring statement to the Commons, told MPs she expected 1.1 per cent growth in Gross Domestic Product (GDP) in 2026, rising to 1.6 per cent in 2027.

Unemployment would peak at 5.3 per cent and the Government would hit its two per cent inflation target later this year.

But none of this factors in Trump’s and Netanyahu’s foolhardy adventure in Iran. We shall feel the effects of that for years to come.

Despite the Government’s “carry on as normal” advice, it is doubtful whether we can. The longer this goes on, the more petrol products will be in short supply. If the lorries have no fuel, goods in the shops will become scarcer and more expensive.

If planes don’t have fuel, foreign holidays are out and two industries are crippled. If farmers can’t get fertiliser – which requires oil, apparently – then the price of food goes up. That’s how inflation works.

Every war, especially one with economic consequences as grave as this one, is followed by a recession, defined as two consecutive quarters of shrinking GDP. Brace yourself, it’s coming and it’s going to hurt.

It might take a few months but it is now inevitable. Latest Government figures reveal that 1,870,000 are out of work, a rate of 5.2 per cent. Still, life is comfortable on the dole or on sickness or incapacity benefits.

All of these hindrances are temporary, we hope. Artificial Intelligence is not. A McKinsey report in 2024 said that technologies such as generative AI could do 70 per cent of an employee’s daily tasks.

An analysis by Goldman Sachs concluded that generative AI could put 300 million full-time jobs at risk worldwide. Some jobs are more vulnerable than others; for example, the days of the computer programmer seem numbered.

I know someone who is looking for a job now. He is a quantity surveyor. This involves specialist calculations to work out how much building material – timber, bricks, concrete, tiles – is needed on a project, and when, and then arranging for it to be there on time.

It has been done that way for decades. It is not for me to tell him, but I can’t see that line of work lasting much longer.

Some economists have compared AI and robotics with the invention of the steam engine. It will, they say, be that transformative. One lamented that it was being used too much for automation at the expense of jobs and not enough to give workers expertise and information.

This could lead to the rise of all-powerful companies and huge inequalities in society; eventually destroying “democracy and human civilisation as we know it”.

Thankfully, this old Luddite will be gone by then. But my children and grandchildren might well have to deal with this dystopian future.

I hope they can navigate the difficult times ahead. If not, I recommend they take Yosser’s approach and crack some heads.

*****

It was Eric Clapton’s birthday on Monday (81, incredible) and that reminded me of a day on the Sunday Express, years ago.

We dispatched a reporter to call on Eric Clapton and solicit a quote about something or other. Finding that he wasn’t at his London home, the resourceful young man headed for Clapton’s country pile.

A high wall surrounded the property and the gates were locked. But an intercom with a  telephone handset to contact the big house was set into the gatepost.

Our man picked it up and pressed the buzzer. Clapton answered and the reporter introduced himself and said he was from the Sunday Express.

“Where did you get this number?” growled Clapton

“But, but…” stumbled the reporter.

“I want to know who gave you this number!”

“But I’m calling from the gatepost,” said our hapless investigator in the gabardine mac, before heading for the bus stop to return to the office.

*****

The kids are on holiday and our six-year-old grandson particularly enjoyed his last school day on Friday.

It was “break the rules” day – not quite as anarchic as it sounds. They were allowed to flout certain specific rules for the half day that wrapped up the term.

They could wear their own clothes, rather than school uniform; and trainers which are normally banned. They could take forbidden snacks, such as chocolate and crisps.

But my favourite – and Oliver’s, too – was that they were allowed to march into the school canteen… and order their pudding before their main course.

Kids love such naughtiness. It was never allowed in my day.

RICHARD DISMORE

1 April 2026