‘If you don’t stab them, they’ll stab you.” It is hard to believe anyone would think like that, let alone say it on the BBC News at Ten. But here we were, my camera crew, producer and I, reporting on the streets of Middlesbrough, interviewing local teenagers. What happened next was genuinely disturbing. One teenager, a self-confessed street level drug dealer, pulled out a large knife, calmly and confidently. “You’ve got to carry,” he said, “it’s brutal round here.” I was in North Ormesby, one of the town’s most deprived areas and, as the knife moved in his hand, his three friends laughed. One asked if I wanted to see an “even bigger thing”. All of them agreed they were prepared to stab other dealers. They said they were 18, all wore balaclavas, and I had no reason to doubt any of them. As a journalist, these moments are uncomfortable, they’re frightening, but you prepare for them and instinct kicks in. You want to question and challenge, but you also want to make sure everyone in your team is safe. We didn’t have much time to think as, seconds later, the teenager pulled out small bags of crack cocaine from his pockets. He said he could sell them for £10 a bag, and he could sell hundreds every week. One of his friends shouted: “It’s pure money.” I’ve interviewed drug dealers carrying guns and more experienced street dealers with swords, but this felt different. It was still daylight, the young lads were speaking like it was nothing, they were in control, and this wasn’t a joke to them. Put simply, they were showing crack cocaine and a knife in full view of everyone and anyone in the street. We were only there for minutes, but in that time I saw two children, one aged about six, trying to open the front door to see why a TV camera was outside, another, about nine, taking his bike out for a ride. Moments like that make you stop and think. This is what some children are growing up with. So often, as journalists, we turn up somewhere for a couple of hours, speak to a few people, then leave, but the BBC’s ambition during this election, with our Your Voice, Your Vote project, is to really listen to voters, and put them at the centre of our reporting. My brief was to spend three days in Middlesbrough, to hear what people thought about the big issue of crime. The plan was to build the trust of those we spoke to, stay with them, and highlight their experiences. I felt it worked: people spoke openly and freely. Many who were struggling really appreciated being heard. Take Tony on the Netherfields estate. He’s Middlesbrough born, and, like the vast majority of those we spoke to, loved the town. He showed us home after home with smashed windows, and he was so frustrated and angry. “We feel disfranchised, like we don’t exist,” he said. “It’s degrading, we feel like a waste of space.” Tony felt helpless, and he wasn’t alone. We met Sarah, who runs Legends Bar in the town. She was last burgled in January, and scrolled through the CCTV pics of masked men who targeted her pub, who have still not been found. “It can’t keep going on like this,” she said, before adding that she felt sick. She’s started sleeping on the floor of her bar to protect her premises, and even turned to Facebook to help solve the crime, offering a small reward out of her own pocket. But framing all of this was one constant we heard again and again: the damage done by illegal drug dealing. Listen to the voices on the ground, in the areas really suffering, and they’ll tell you crack cocaine and heroin dealing are having a profound effect. The teenagers we spoke to did it to make money, but with that comes violence and desperation. It makes life a misery for everyone else trying to get by and earn a living. In 2022, the government estimated there were more than 300,000 people dependent on heroin and crack cocaine in England. Between them, they were responsible for nearly half of all burglaries, robberies and other acquisitive crime. In Middlesbrough, we visited one street full of shops where workers said shoplifting was rife. While we were there, five men – faces covered – burst into a supermarket and stole… chocolate bars. We were told it happened every day. There are many towns and cities facing the same issues. In England alone, there is a lot to fix. An independent review for the government by Prof Dame Carol Black in 2021 said drug misuse costs society almost £20bn a year. Before we left Middlesbrough, we joined Tony at a pub called Champagne Charlie’s, where his pool team was playing a league match. It was great seeing him relaxed with friends. Everyone welcomed us and was keen to talk. But Tony became irate. “It’s like we are nothing,” he said. “Whoever wins the next election needs to step up to the mark. This cannot continue.” To get on top of anti-social behaviour and drug dealing, Cleveland police told us they had used 48-hour dispersal orders and dedicated neighbourhood officers, and in places like Netherfields had arrested children as young as 12 and had also made arrests since our filming. I discussed the election with the teenagers, wondering what it meant to them. One said they didn’t know what it is all about, another said nothing would change. I asked: what would they say to politicians who say they want to crack down on drug dealing? “Catch me if you can,” one said, and they all started to laugh. Then I asked: is this really what they want from their lives? There was a brief pause, and they thought about it. One said: “I don’t want to sell drugs for the rest of my life, no one does, it’s just how it is.” This time, none of his friends laughed. Ed Thomas is the BBC’s UK Editor