The bedroom tax, austerity and death by the political class

As some people know, I write about public sector cuts, so-called “welfare reform” and spend a lot of time talking with people who are on the receiving end of evil shit like the bedroom tax, social care cuts, Atos assessments and so on and so forth.

As some people also know, I’m getting to the end of my tether with it – not the talking with people, which I like, because we sit down for ages and talk about all kinds of things, but the appalling indifference of the political class to the realities of the destruction of social security (and you only need to read this Mirror story to get that). I think I’m witnessing powderkeg situations which are causing people stress that they won’t be able to cope with forever. This couple I’m talking with – we’re in contact every few days now – can’t cope. They’re having to pay the bedroom tax, they’re having to pay council tax now their benefit has been cut and they must also attend Atos assessments. They literally get a letter, or a payment demand, every week. This woman, Mary Laver, made quite clear to me that she’d consider suicide if the money that pays for her carers is cut. But the political class doesn’t give a shit. Nobody listens. Nobody who has the power to make change cares enough to speak out for it. I’m really fucking sick of that. I’m sick of a bloody commentariat which, with a few honourable exceptions, writes of the destruction of social security as though it is utterly inevitable and as though there was just one point in history (the few years after the second world war) when it was possible for politicians to advocate for social security and that we will never have that sort of chance or time again.

I’m sick of knowing that politicians across the spectrum believe that the fight for social security has been lost and has been lost forever, and that it is perfectly acceptable to view anyone who uses health, care, education or housing services as political collateral. I also hate the kind of journalist I’ve become against this appalling austerity backdrop. I feel that I’ve got to a point where I’m acting in too gratuitous a manner: that I’m here to gawp and to offer people up for others to gawp at, so that well-appointed members of the chattering classes can shake their heads and cluck their tongues and say ISN’T THIS GOVERNMENT TERRIBLE and OH LOOK AT THOSE POOR POOR PEOPLE and tweet a bit and then do fuck all about it. I think that I’m making people look pathetic when they are not pathetic. They’re being pushed into a corner and Labour isn’t prepared to fight that corner for them, but that doesn’t make them pathetic. That makes them people who have no political representation. That’s a very dangerous place to be. People who are in that place are totally exposed.

Anyway – I’ve decided to start posting more of the conversations, calls and discussions that I have with people who are going through all this and also some of the conversations that I have with officialdom so that people can see how fucked up so much of this cuts scene is and how real the agonies are. I want people to see how the average day goes.

And here is an average day from last week. I’m writing this one first because it will give you a good idea of the shit that is being talked to journalists as housing associations and their hangers-on try to justify the implementation of the appalling bedroom tax. And yes – I know that officers are struggling with this and have been put in a position where they must implement this dreadful thing, or compromise their own jobs and incomes. However – that is, in my view, an aspect to the thing that housing associations use to justify their own awful political line:

I got out of bed last Tuesday and took the dog for a walk and then I came back and that’s when it all started to kick off. My phone rang (I was expecting it to, but I watched it thrash around for a bit). It was a senior-ish person from the South Liverpool Housing Group – a housing association which is imposing the bedroom tax on tenants who have a so-called spare room.

I stayed in Liverpool for a while in March and met lots of different people who were, at that point, faced with the prospect of paying the tax. At that stage, they were still half-hoping that someone would intervene on their behalf (Liverpool city councillors and/or Ed Miliband, I guess, although they might as well have sent their prayers up to bloody Tinkerbell for all the return they got on that. Everybody knew it was useless. Everybody knew it was useless, because not a single councillor turned up to the bedroom tax meetings that were being held then to offer support. People absolutely knew then they’d been cast adrift). None of those people did intervene on their behalf, of course (I don’t count the Labour councillor flag-waving and handwringing at the March 16 protests as intervention – any politicking bellend with an hour to spare and an eye to the main chance can wave his or her hands and a placard around and say “fuck me – aren’t Tories mean”).

So now, the people I met are actually having to pay the tax.

Because we made contact then and because they know that I think that tax is a fucking joke and that I think the same of any outfit which administers it, those people who must pay the tax have been in touch ever since. They send me the letters they get from their housing associations and councils and ring and email when they get a call or a visit from the above and then I ring the relevant housing associations and/or councils and say, basically, “so are you going to evict people who can’t pay the tax, because I’m talking to people who can’t pay the tax and they want to know if they are going to be evicted as anyone would because nobody wants to be evicted, don’t you think.”

That is exactly what happened last week. Some tenants in south Liverpool who I have come to know made contact to say that there’d been housing officers in their street in the company of a uniformed individual who they thought was a copper (South Liverpool Housing was at pains to point out to me later that the person in the uniform was a community support officer and not a copper, but I have to say I didn’t really care. The point was that people saw the uniform and felt a fear).

Anyway, the housing officers and the uniformed person dropped letters through the doors of people who weren’t home.

The letter said  “We note from our records that you have failed to make any payments towards the bedroom tax. It is important that you contact us immediately to make payment arrangements. We have tried to visit you today to discuss this with you in more detail and to provide you with some options to consider. Please contact us to discuss the impact of the bedroom tax on your household or to arrange a suitable appointment.”

So I rang the HA and sent a bunch of questions (six) about this letter and this door-to-door visiting thing they’re doing with people who “must” pay this shit tax and the HA came back and said that I could speak to someone on Tuesday morning about it (Monday was a bank holiday). I thought about that and decided that I didn’t feel like waiting that long and that I’d be posting the story about the letter before Tuesday, so I went back and told them that and I said something like “how about you answer a couple of the questions before Tuesday as I’ll be posting before then.” I said that because I did not and do not feel that there is all the time in the world to spare on these issues and also being told to wait just generally makes me feel like I don’t want to wait. They agreed. So they came back and told me that the door-to-door visits were part of a regular community event called Walkabout Wednesdays – this is where HA people head out into the community and talk to tenants.

And so I put this in the article:

“SLH was at pains to explain that last week’s home visits were nothing unusual – that the Pay Your Bedroom Tax Now letter-drop merely coincided with a regular community meet-and-greet exercise that SLH calls…. “Walkabout Wednesdays.” That’s one interpretation of last week’s event. Another interpretation – it’s certainly one that went through the minds of our tenant contacts (and our minds, for that matter) –  is that tenants are being doorstepped for this bedroom tax money, a mere month after the tax was introduced. A demand for money is a demand for money, whether or not it is delivered on Walkabout Wednesday. People are very concerned that they will lose their housing over this tax. They’re certainly not confident that they’ll keep their homes.”

Which brings us to my phone ringing last Tuesday morning at 10am and me finding this senior SLH person on the other end of it. I was sitting there on my bed smelling like dog and thinking – I wonder if this guy knows that I’m sitting on my bed smelling like dog. Maybe not.

He seemed a genuine and reasonable guy, but this is the problem in this day and age and this is the point that I must make as clear as I can – ALL of these people seem so genuine and reasonable and even appealing. They seem genuine and reasonable and appealing to an extent that no person has ever been in real life in the history of our species.

This is an age – a long one, mind, as this has been going on for as long as I can remember – where smooth talkers and professional calmer-downers and de-fusers are detailed off to “handle” bloggers (not mainstream journalists – they’ve already been de-fused and handled to the point where they no longer need to be de-fused and handled) and to make vile and unreasonable policies like the bedroom tax and the collection of it sound not only eminently reasonable, but like an okay day out.

And so it was with this guy. He talked for ages about Walkabout Wednesdays and how these meet-and-greet events were held regularly to keep in touch with vulnerable (I hate that word) tenants and make sure they were all right and so that people could raise any issues and talk directly to their housing association so on and so forth… and then he also said that last week’s Walkabout Wednesday simply presented another very good chance for the housing association to catch up with anyone who was affected by the bedroom tax and to remind them that if they hadn’t paid it, they should come in and talk about ways to do that and that he wanted to make the point again that the housing association didn’t agree with the tax, but since it had to be collected, they wanted to talk to people about the best ways to go about that and how to help people budget and so on and so on and…Jesus wept. I’m telling you. These people can fucking speak. Time just wafted on and on with this pleasant, intelligent, reasonable and appealing (We Don’t Like It Either – type statement) male voice on the end of the phone pouring oil and pouring oil and I could feel myself being Borged. I had to force myself to snap out of it. Then he had a go, gently, at the paragraph (the one I copied above) I had written. Here is is again:

“SLH was at pains to explain that last week’s home visits were nothing unusual – that the Pay Your Bedroom Tax Now letter-drop merely coincided with a regular community meet-and-greet exercise that SLH calls…. “Walkabout Wednesdays.” That’s one interpretation of last week’s event. Another interpretation – it’s certainly one that went through the minds of our tenant contacts (and our minds, for that matter) –  is that tenants are being doorstepped for this bedroom tax money, a mere month after the tax was introduced. A demand for money is a demand for money, whether or not it is delivered on Walkabout Wednesday. People are very concerned that they will lose their housing over this tax. They’re certainly not confident that they’ll keep their homes.”

That’s just a fact. A demand for money is a demand for money, no matter how sweetly that demand is presented. I would actually say that the fact that some people seriously believe that it is possible to present a demand for money/a threat to housing in an endearing way is off the planet. But still –

This guy thought me calling this Walkabout Wednesday a “Pay Your Bedroom Tax Now” letter-drop was a little bit unfair, or something like that. I was just sitting there on the bed and I thought – Unfair? FUCK UNFAIR, brother. I am so fucking sick of this. Unfair is being tapped for £14 a week when you’re on a benefit so that a cunt like George Osborne can splash our money out on a meadow for himself. It’s as simple as that. It really is as simple as that. There is no grey area here.

And so I told this bloke that there was nothing unfair about my interpretation and that people who were being chased for money for this tax were perfectly entitled to take a view of that pursuit. If people look out of their windows and see several housing association officers and a person who looks like a copper and then they come downstairs to find a letter which says they owe money and must contact their landlord immediately to arrange to pay it – then they’re perfectly entitled to feel that they’re being doorstepped for money they haven’t got. They’re perfectly entitled to feel threatened. Hardly matters if the person who delivers the letter has the human touch and is a scream at parties or offers to “help” if you come into the office to talk about finding the extra money for the bedroom tax by making cutbacks to your gas and heating bill and other necessities. There’s no way to sugarcoat what is happening here. I rent privately and if my landlord said he was putting up the rent and then turned up with an officer a month later to ask where it was, I’d think – FUCK. I wouldn’t be thinking – hey, Walkabout Wednesday. Ace. Walkabout over here, comrades. Give me a letter telling me I’m fucked. And please – come again. I appreciate your visits. And sure – a lot of housing officers will be having a shitty time enforcing this. I know that. Some of my best friends are housing officers. I really mean that as well – some of my best friends ARE housing officers. I used to work in council and was active in the union and there were a lot of housing stewards who I knew across the boroughs who were and still are great friends. They hate all of this. But they don’t try to tell me that they’re doing their best with it, or that they’re trying to make it as painless as they can. They tell me it’s shit, that they feel their job now is basically to make people homeless and that we’re doomed.

So that was that call. That’s the sort of thing those people say. They are masters at massaging the shit out of situations which are made only of shit. It’s a skill and it’s a skill that people pay for.

But then my phone rang again. It was Sean, a man from Northamptonshire who I’m regularly in contact with. He has Asperger’s syndrome and his wife, Maggie, has schizophrenia. I went to his Atos assessment last year. They literally get a smack in the face from government every week now (I’ve seen their paperwork – it’s quite something). In the last month, Sean and Maggie have had bedroom tax demands (they have one “spare” room), a council tax demand (their tax used to be covered by council tax benefit) and then on Tuesday, Maggie got a letter from the jobcentre saying that she would be moved from incapacity benefit to employment and support allowance, which means that she will probably be called to an Atos assessment at some point. She was, naturally, terrified. She was so frightened that she couldn’t talk to me about it. I ended up speaking with Sean instead.

The thing is – and this is the part that I’m going round and round on – I don’t know what to do. I’m very happy to talk to people and to publicise their problems if they want that, but I’m not a welfare expert, or an advisor and so I’m not helping people very much, or very well. I can direct people to the CAB, or their local welfare rights advisors, if there are still any around, but after that, I don’t know what to do. If councillors aren’t interested and “welfare reform” is the only political game in town and government restrospectively changes legislation to beat decisions which may just have given a few people a bit of breathing space, what are people supposed to do?

And the thing is – often, now, people are worried about making themselves and/or their issues known to people who are perceived to be in any sort of position of authority, or part of the “machine.” Housing associations tell me that they’re trying to “help” people budget and to tell people to contact them if they’re having problems with rent and other costs – but when people who are having those problems hear that, they just snort. And who can blame them? These are the same associations that are sending them payment demands.

What a fucking mess. Seriously. And that’s just a couple of hours out of one day. Most of my days as a journalist are like this now. I honestly don’t know what to do with this information.

How the bedroom tax unfolds – latest article

Latest article with people in Liverpool is here:
“We note from our records that you have failed to make any payments towards the bedroom tax. It is important that you contact us immediately to make payment arrangements. We have tried to visit you today to discuss this with you in more detail and to provide you with some options to consider. Please contact us to discuss the impact of the bedroom tax on your household or to arrange a suitable appointment.”

More here.

 

Thatcherism has no clothes

This morning, I went to the Turn Your Back protest at the wildly overpriced Thatcher funeral procession. The protest crowd was easily the biggest grouping I stood with all morning – you’ll get an idea of size from the video I took below.

The loudest protest cry was “Waste of Money.” A truer phrase has rarely been spoken. We paid some £10m (and the rest) for this – bad buy of the century. Cameron overplayed his hand. The turnout was poor – there was a crowd where I was standing for the protest and a lot of cameras in that area, but people were still easily able to walk to and from Blackfriars station and once you moved away from that corner, it was just normal foot-traffic behind the barriers. I got to the Royal Courts and Holborn easily. As another indication of the lack of crowd pressure – just before the funeral procession came past, the police realised that the barriers had been set out the wrong way round. They asked people to stand back so that they could turn them the right way around and were able to do that without a problem. I’ve seen bigger crowds on tube platforms. The protest was heartening, though. I went partly to protest at Thatcherism, but also to exercise my right to be there and register that protest.

Interesting that we still have this sort of unreal (literally) stuff from Nick Robinson and the BBC:

1224: Nick Robinson Political editor Again and again the crowd cheered, as if they wanted to say, “after all this contention and debate, we’re here to cheer you on your last journey”.

1223: Nick Robinson Political editor To see the Chancellor [George Osborne] wipe away a tear from his cheek at one point – we all know if we have lost a loved one, we can’t be sure if that tear was for Lady Thatcher or some personal memory anyone of us can have in a service of that sort – but it was striking that it happened.

Hyperbole that smacks of desperation there. A lot of money was spent today for not very much at all. I know too many people who are finding life too difficult at the moment to find that remotely acceptable.

Anyway – here people are, turning their backs as the procession passes:



And a bit more. The “crowds” had pretty much gone by 11.30am on the way back to Holborn as you can see below. I’m loving the Mail line re: 250,000 turning out to cheer and applaud. RUBBISH. B O L L O C K S. A few thousand people bunched around Blackfriars and St Paul’s does not a massive turnout make, especially if a lot of those people are tourists, members of the press (there were plenty of cameras blocking the paths) and everyday pedestrians slowed down on footpaths narrowed by barriers. You can see from the video below how quickly those supposed hundreds and thousands of cheerleaders dispersed. By the time I got to Holborn – a mere half-hour after the cortege had passed – it was business as usual on the street, as though nothing had ever happened.

Lot of horseshit though. You can see that too.

Visiting Iain Duncan Smith’s house

Update August 17: 

More links will be added soon. In the meantime see:

via @c_r_g and @BMESG .

Use: https://www.torproject.org/ via @Tim_JR_Hill

And see comments below for browser reconfig advice.

Update August 12:

And so youtube has shut down my videos of the UK Uncut and DPAC occupation of Iain Duncan Smith’s weekend place. A legal complaint has been made. Sob. Interestingly, you can see the whole place on googlemaps.

Here are the videos you can’t see anymore. If you’re in the UK (they’re only blocked in the UK for some reason):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7ACptYVMDQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjtP5vNBqdY

Never mind. We seek new solutions.

See the whole story below…

Update 2 June 2013:

I’ve had a note from youtube that “an individual” has complained that these videos (and the pictures of the grounds at IDS’ house) constitute a “privacy violation.” I suppose that means they may be taken down, so please download and share the videos while they’re still there. I don’t know who the complainant is – could be Iain Duncan Smith, his inlaws, or someone else entirely. I contend that this sort of video, which shows the great wealth in which the architect (IDS) of “reforms” like the bedroom tax lives, must and should be publicised and is of public interest. The sort of inequality the videos on this page suggest should be taken note of by anyone who a) cares about equality and b) cares about the instability great inequality inevitably brings.

Update Sunday 14 April:

Here’s my longer video now of the whole day: interviews, me and others slagging Liam Byrne off on the train, which is only right, a nice turn around IDS’ sprawling grounds and a picnic out front. There’s also a section in here with Dom Aversano, the young man who started the “Prove You Can Live On £53 A Week, IDS” petition. Got a few words from him while he was standing outside IDS’ fabulous country gaff.

We should all be rich. Seriously. This place looked very good.

Point worth noting: UK Uncut got a lot of flak for partying outside Nick Clegg’s house last year – there was a lot of rightwing yap about not targeting politicians personally and so on. The response to Saturday’s action has been very different – overwhelmingly positive comments on the videos and on twitter, etc. Things have changed.

Saturday 13 April:

And here we are: UK Uncut and DPAC slapping an eviction notice on Iain Duncan Smith’s very fancy country pile in protest at the bedroom tax today.

And what a place. Room for all. Bedrooms for all, certainly. And if you want a break from the bedrooms – well, take a walk outside and enjoy the lake, the fields avec gamboling lambs, the tennis court out the back and the landscaped garden with an arch. I have decided that we should all be rich, really. If you have to live on £53 a week, this is the way to do it. The manor house and the games of cricket in the enormous back garden would really take the edge off it all.

Have got a lot more videos and interviews to upload which I’ll get to soon, so this is to give you an idea. Hats off to DPAC and UK Uncut. Ace action. ACE.

And more! So nice round the back that even the coppers took a stroll. Lawn as far as the eye could see. Didn’t really want to go home.

There’s no such group as the “deserving poor…”

…as far as the political class is concerned.

Having spent some of Easter reading renowned “christian” (I do mean that ironically) Iain Duncan Smith on benefit cuts and the gruesome George Osborne bragging about his winkling out of the “undeserving poor,” I post below a discussion with yet another person who deserves social security and isn’t getting it. The man in this story is called Clifford Poole.

I’m posting Clifford’s story because I have it and plenty like it and so I might as well. I’m also posting his story – as I post them all – to make again the point that when it comes down to it, there is no such group as the “deserving poor” as far as this government (and the Labour “opposition”) is concerned. Osborne and the Telegraph and all the rest can claim that coalition social security “reforms” as they are “merely” aim to distinguish between the “workshy” and the “deserving” as the Telegraph so charmingly put it this weekend. But that isn’t true. The truth is that in the eyes of modern government, everyone (everyone outside of the financial sector, that is) is undeserving of state support. Everyone. I laugh, if thinly, when I read that “deserving” tag these days. Deserving? Ha. HA HA. I’m laughing at that. Nobody’s considered deserving out here. As I see it – and I see a lot of it – if you need or use public services, you’re considered undeserving. And that’s it.

These days, I’m talking to people whose physical impairments are so extensive that they can’t move, or even feed themselves unaided – but they’re still facing the sort of service cuts that will make their lives impossible. Actually, it’ll be worse than that. It is absolutely fair to say that the health, and probably the lives, of people who currently receive, for example, Independent Living Fund money for extra care hours will be compromised if they lose that funding. There can be no other outcome if, as recipient Mary Laver says in this video, care funding cuts mean you’re left sitting round in your own urine and pressure sores for hours each day.

I mean nothing patronising when I say that I’ve wondered why these people are even in frame for cuts. The answer is that they’re in frame because everyone is. There will be no exceptions. Social security will not be “reformed” for modern government until it is entirely obliterated and/or passed to the private sector for a final bleeding (if you want to experience an example of that in real time, just follow Barnet bloggers like Mrs Angry – she’s writing very regular and detailed updates on the unfolding disaster that is Barnet council’s already-catastrophic and costly attempt to outsource all services. Alternatively, just google Privatisation and NHS).

“This is ridiculous. How much plainer could it be? This government are out to destroy us all,” observed Steven Sumpter on twitter last night. I don’t often lift tweets for stories: I think lifting tweets is lazy journalism. But that one was on the money. Government is targeting people who absolutely should not be targeted – people who will pay a very high price for it. I really don’t give a damn who thinks that is an unacceptably emotive statement. I’m seeing enough of all of this with my own eyes to know the facts. And anyone, just by the way, who thinks that this government will stop its plundering at the homes and bank accounts of people on benefits is dreaming. There are days when Cyprus doesn’t seem very far away.

So we go to Clifford Poole. Clifford is a Liverpool man who has greatly inconvenienced the welfare-slashing political class by developing an industrial injury. He is also a victim – as many now are – of the government’s April 2012 decision to time-limit eligibility for contributions-based employment and support allowance to a year.

We’ll get to that. Let’s start at the beginning of this story – it’ll give you an idea of the perverse manner in which these things are sneaking up on people now. It’ll give you an idea of the way things unfold when people lose their jobs. Clifford was a painter and worker in the shipbuilding industry for years. ”I’ve always worked on the industrial side, which is a lot heavier with shotblasting and paintspraying.” He used needleguns and chipping hammers and as he says – “they vibrate like hell. It’s a handheld gun. All the vibrations come through your hands and arms.” The upshot of this for Clifford has been terrible pain in his hands and arms, which he manages now, to a degree, with sleeping pills and morphine. The symptoms range from “numbness to tingling to shooting pains.”

So. Clifford “first went sick from work in February 2010, with the pain in my hands.” The effect on his income was immediate. “Probably before that I was earning between £480 and £520 a week after tax. Obviously, Beccy (his wife) is working, so we had a reasonable life – nearly two grand coming in after net. When I come onto the sick in February, I’ve gone from £480 a week down to £67 a week on statutory sick pay. By the time September come, when my statutory was due to run out, you’ve lost a lot of money. You’re losing over £400 a week, which put more pressure on Beccy.”

When his statutory sick pay ran out in September 2010, Clifford contacted his local benefits office.

Clifford says that the benefits office told him not to apply for employment and support allowance until January 2011, because he didn’t have enough recent national insurance contributions for a claim (he’d been laid off in 2008).

“So I said – “look. What do I do now? I’ve got no statutory sick pay from work.” The benefits officer said “your wife works (Beccy was working part-time in the betting shop then – that’s the job she still has). I said “what’s that got to do with anything?” I said – “look, I’ve worked all my life and now I’m injured.” She said – “well, you’re just going to have to try and get crisis loans.”

That meant, Beccy says, that they had to try and survive from September to January on “my wages, which weren’t very much, because I was only doing about 24 hours a week. We were still paying all the rent.”

After an Atos face-to-face assessment in January 2011, Clifford was awarded ESA – but “it all fell apart in December that year. “I went for another assessment. I’d passed all my others – but this time, I got zero points. As soon as I walked in the room, I knew. It was just 40 minutes of degradation and humiliation. They know that if you turn around and say anything, they’ll just remove your money and everything. They know they’ve got the power and they know they’ve got the government backing them, so that was that. Everything started falling apart.”

Clifford appealed the fit-to-work decision and got an ESA payment – at the reduced rate people get when they’re appealing that Atos decision – while he waited for his appeal to be heard. He won his appeal and was placed in the ESA work related activity group. “That was fine, because they knew I was trying to get back to work at that stage.”

Then it all fell apart again – and this time, for the duration. Clifford got a back-payment which covered the months when he received the reduced-rate ESA – and then the payments suddenly stopped. He quickly found out that he’d fallen foul of the government’s new 365-days time-limit rule on contributions-based ESA.

“I rung them up and said “can you tell me why me ESA hasn’t gone in?” They said “you’re not entitled to any.” I said – “but I’ve won my appeal.” They said – “yes, but you’re on contributions-based ESA and the law changed in April. You only get it for a year.” Unfortunately for Clifford, his year was up.

The upshot is that he now has no income. “Now, everything is coming out of Beccy’s wage. The more they take off me, the more Beccy has to work and Beccy is not on a high income job. The situation is that in the last three years, I’ve gone from earning about £500 a week down to £67 pounds down to nothing. Beccy will get a bus at 6.30am in the morning and she doesn’t come in until 11pm at night. She does hours and hours of overtime.”

Beccy also does a lot of work at home: “because of his hands, I cook all the meals. I’ve got to do everything before I go to work. I had to buy a travel kettle for when he’s home on his own, because he can’t lift our kettle. The only thing we’ve had is an adapted shower fitted. That’s been an absolute blessing. That was due to our GP.” And just to add to that – this month, it seems Clifford will lose the small amount he received in Disability Living Allowance. He was entitled to the low-rate DLA care component, but his welfare rights advisor has told him that rate is at risk when DLA is replaced with the personal independence payment. So that’ll be it for Clifford. “That’s my repayment for working,” he says, wryly.

Indeed. There are, as I say, no “deserving poor.” Doesn’t matter if you’ve busted your hands and arms at work, or have a long history of severe mental illness, or have serious physical impairments which mean you need round-the-clock care. Doesn’t matter if you just happen to have a tiny spare room in your council flat, or if your grownup children have learning difficulties and need support services, or if you require medical help from time to time (as we all probably will). As I say – if you use public services, you’re undeserving. That’s the end of the story for you.

“I think that it has to do with how we judge what is valuable in terms of being a nice, Tory work product,” writer Penny Pepper (who happens also to be fighting for the Independent Living Fund which pays for the 24-7 care she needs to live and work independently) told me when we talked about this in January. “Do we deserve to get out of bed? Do we have to take part in some crazy ideologically-driven competition [for resources]? It’s sickening.” It certainly is.

It is particularly sickening in light of the fact that there’s no political opposition putting any sort of case for social security. There really isn’t. There really, really isn’t. This year already, I have sat and tried not to hurl as I’ve listened to Ealing councillors blither on about “having heavy hearts” as they have cut much-loved services for people with learning difficulties. I heard the same sort of crap at this year’s budget-cutting meeting in Birmingham as that council wiped some £120m from services for the next year. I stood outside Liverpool town hall with irate locals in March as councillors there did a similar thing. I attended bedroom tax meetings in Liverpool where people asked point-blank why councillors weren’t supporting them and “where are the councillors? Why aren’t they here?” (the answer was that councillors were at the town hall making massive budget cuts, with heavy hearts. And in front of more cameras, I imagine). I sent a bunch of questions to Emily Thornberry asking why she and Labour weren’t being more helpful to people like Mary Laver and Penny Pepper in their fight to keep the Independent Living Fund. That was about two months ago. I haven’t heard anything back. Now we seem to have Ed Miliband making vague statements via Liberal Conspiracy about voting against the bedroom tax – but I’m not even sure what he means by that. Does he mean he wants every Labour council meeting to propose “that the bedroom tax is shit” and then have everyone shout Aye? Is he telling Labour councils to all refuse to evict people who fall into arrears? Is he just talking any old crap? Pity we’ve run out of time to find out.

Dealing with ESA, bedroom tax, council tax benefit cuts and mental health

Update Monday 15 April 2013:

Had a call from Sean and Maggie this morning. They’d just had a call from Wellingborough homes, their housing association. The HA officer asked them why they hadn’t paid the outstanding bedroom tax amount (for them, the tax is £11.21 a week). Apparently, that HA is trying to get people to pay up front to “prevent them from getting into arrears.” I’ve spoken with Wellingborough HA to ask about this and also asked them to tell me exactly getting into arrears at that HA will mean for people. Will it mean eviction? I’ll post their response when/if someone calls me back (they said they’d get back to me by the end of today, but haven’t yet).

Update Friday 19 April:

Have spoken to Wellingborough Homes about this. They did make calls to people on Monday morning to remind them about the bedroom tax. They say they’ve identified about 700 people who are liable for the bedroom tax and that people will have to pay it, as there are simply not enough flats for people to downsize to (they said that they were building more and increasing the borough’s stock of flats to “address this issue” to an extent. In the meantime, though, people have to pay. They do take legal action to recover outstanding rent and that can mean eviction, but WH said its aim was to try get people to work with advisors at their local free financial advice service before that point was reached. That means people sitting down with a money advisor, looking at their weekly costs and so on and trying to find points where household savings might be made. WH said eviction on arrears is ultimately a matter for the courts: the HA was putting its energies into preventing things going that far.

Time will tell how that pans out. The tax is not removed from the equation, though, which is the bottom line. It is added to the equation. Anyway – that was the HA’s response on procedure. What we need, though, is a political response, so I’ve asked to talk to board members. We need to know whether the board considered reclassification, or if it would write off bedroom tax arrears if people simply can’t pay and not evict if it comes to it. You can see from this heavy-handed proceedings letter (sent by a different HA to a tenant in another part of the country) the sort of court costs that people start facing even when they’re in arrears for a very modest amount of money. It seems unlikely that people can afford those costs when they’re already in rent arrears.

What a mess this is already. We’re just two weeks into this appalling tax and people are already getting calls about parting with money that they don’t have and/or opening their lives to money advisors to try and find items that they might cut from their personal budgets. The conversations I’ve had with officers here and there suggest that some of them are stressed by this and housing benefit changes generally: they’re sort of doing a quasi-bailiff job already. None of that matters, of course, to people who are getting calls first thing on a Monday from people who tell them that they’ll have to pay up and that it’s better to pay up sooner rather than later if you don’t want to risk your home. Sean and Maggie told me that they’ll try and pay the tax, but they’re not going to find it too easy, as you’ll understand when you read their story below.

MPs, councils and housing associations need to answer to this. They’re enabling this shambles and you can see already how it’s unfolding on the ground.

————

How this story began:

This post is a discussion and transcript of an interview with Sean and Maggie, a couple in Northamptonshire. I’ve known Sean and Maggie for some months now and have visited them at their house. They live in a small, two-bedroom housing association flat in a block and have been there for 11 years. They’ve been a couple since 1997. They met in a residential, independent-living home.

Sean has Asperger’s syndrome and Maggie has schizophrenia. Unfortunately, the political class does not give a stuff about either. Sean and Maggie are being attacked on all fronts. They say that local support services have gone, or are wildly oversubscribed and too stretched to help them. Atos calls Sean in to face-to-face assessments for employment support allowance that he can barely cope with, they’re liable for the bedroom tax, because they have a small second room in their flat, they’ve been issued with a new council tax demand, because their council tax benefit will be cut from April, and they’re worried about further cuts when the personal independence payment replaces disability living allowance.

It is not unusual for Sean to send me emails which say: “I can’t cope with any more. Why don’t they give us a lethal injection to end our fucking misery?” I imagine the answer to that question is “government here prefers slower methods.”

And that is what we have: “scrounger” rhetoric and vicious targeting dressed up as the miracle cure. We all know how this will end for those exposed to it. It can’t be long before government begins to insinuate that mental health illnesses like schizophrenia are best addressed by throwing people out of housing and off benefits – that all someone with Asperger’s or schizophrenia needs to do is pull themselves together, find a job and get out for a bit of fresh air. Sorted. The scrounger subtext pretty much writes itself from there: “why waste money on drug therapies, psychiatry and decent, stable housing when all people with serious mental health and cognitive problems need is a kick in the pants?” That’s certainly the reading Sean and Maggie take from the tax and assessment demands that pour in these days with their post. They did not, just by the way, cause the financial crisis. They’re paying for it, which is different.

In December last year, I accompanied Sean to his Atos face-to-face assessment for ESA. He found the whole assessment process worrying and threatening and he wasn’t able to get much help through it. We spoke at length in the months leading up to the assessment. He was obviously frightened and unable to settle. He sent me a lot of emails and we spoke on the phone many times. He wanted Atos to record his assessment, which Atos did in the end, but it took several months of cancellations and reschedulings to arrange that.

At that time, too, he’d been disturbed by the Newtown shootings in Connecticut (he is British, but grew up in America, in the area where the shootings took place) and he had tried to find someone to talk to about it. “I did try to get help from the healthcare around here in regards to the shootings,” he emailed to say, “but they responded that “everyone is upset” and unless I said I was suicidal, they would do nothing.” He did say that the Samaritans were helpful and talked with him.

After his Atos assessment in December, Sean was placed into the ESA support group, which gave him some breathing space – although not for long. And that’s the point. There isn’t much breathing space for people in Sean and Maggie’s situation now and soon there won’t be any at all. Every day, the government hurls in another grenade – another letter, another call to assessment, another demand for money that people haven’t got (no matter how the government screams that they must find it) and another threat to another service or benefit. I know, and Sean and Maggie know, and we all know, that those letters and demands will keep coming until everything has gone.

There is nowhere for Sean and Maggie to go: no Labour party to appeal to, no “name” politician to advocate with any sort of passion on their behalf and/or behalf of the notion of universal social security, no political commitment to the notion of the right to housing or incomes for people who aren’t born to money. It’s all very well for MPs to speak ad infinitum about “acknowledging” mental health problems, but that means nothing if they refuse to salute the universal social security that’d make improvements possible. The financial sector sails on with its bailout money, tax breaks, brass neck and bonuses while people in Sean and Maggie’s position are pursued and pursued and will be trampled in that rush: their tiny ESA incomes, their housing, the council tax breaks all hoovered by the Beast. There’s no work for them and no suggestion that work, or any source of income, will be found. They’ll be hounded and screamed at as scroungers until nobody cares how they end. They’re already targeted by kids and neighbours for looking and acting “differently.”

Last week, Sean got in touch to say that he and Maggie had “received the notice of the bedroom tax and they are giving us 30 days to appeal the spare room. I do very much plan to appeal. Our room is not “spare.” It is my study/hobby room and for storage. No one sleeps there. They want to withhold £14 a week and I just hope there is a form letter, or if someone could write a very [sic] letter, so we have something to stand against this unjust charge. We also had a council tax notice demanding £77.88 when before it was covered with benefit. We need legal advice and a really strong fightback with appeals and legal challenge. They would have us on the street or in our grave at this rate. It is ruining our relationship and our very existence with this irrational inhuman attack on our lives.” Sean says he’s also concerned about the phasing out of disability living allowance and the phasing in of the personal independence payment.

So.

I hope Fred Goodwin is happy. And warm and well-housed. Because he and the financial sector are, of course, the real victims in all of this. Or something.

Anyway.

An afternoon discussing it all at Sean and Maggie’s house:

Sean: I had [behavioural] problems from about the age of six. My symptoms were social issues – not playing well with others. I was very protective of my things. If someone snatched something away from me, I would react violently.

We emigrated to America when I was a child. I grew up in a small New England town which was very conservative. If you weren’t like they were, you were seen as very much an outsider. I already had a strong English accent and I got picked on for that. I had a terrible stutter (what you call a stammer over here) and it took years of speech therapy to help correct that, but under stress it returns.

They said I was lazy and stupid, because you know – with the Asperger’s, I have dyslexia and dyspraxia and several other issues which just makes reading, writing and maths difficult as the letters move and dance around on the page and make it hard to focus. I could not get the letters small case “d” and “b” right and I still have difficulties to even spell my name. “Ae” I got mixed as well.

It was terrible for my education and life and they just said I was just stupid and lazy. My dad said the same – that I was stupid and lazy. When I was about 42, I was finally diagnosed with Asperger’s. It was the condition that affects everything – your social life, your relationships, I’ve never had that many friends. I try to get along with people, but they have a hard time to understand me.

Maggie: It is incredibly isolating. I’d never tell the other people who live in these flats around here (about my schizophrenia), because I don’t know how they are going to react. They would probably run a mile.

Sean: When I went to meet you from the train station (they both met me today at the station when I arrived), that was the first time I’d been out for a month.

Maggie: People abuse us.

Sean: We’ve had trouble with kids coming around here throwing rocks at the windows. It was endless calls to the police to end it…. as far as cuts, around five years ago, it was the Labour government that cut the groups for local mental health users, both support and social. It was nothing to write home about, just bingo, bottle drives and a fish and chip supper once a month, but it was something. That’s now just a distant memory.

Maggie: I was born in Northampton and I’ve been in Wellingborough since 1980. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1997. It’s hard to tell the difference between what’s real or in my head with paranoid schizophrenia. Seeing things that aren’t really there. Hearing voices in your head and things like that. Suspicious of what people are thinking. Not knowing what’s real and what’s not. I first had my breakdown when I was 21. I’m now on daily medication. I was sectioned in 1997.

I go out shopping, but I don’t really like it. It is hard, going out. If you have schizophrenia, you see the world differently. You are very suspicious of people. So, it’s hard when I go out, but I force myself, because I think if I don’t go out, I’ll feel isolated and I won’t be able to cope with anything and deal with everyday life.

Sean: This country is dead. It’s taken over by greedy, selfish and inhuman [people]. They removed us both from the local community mental health service, because they didn’t have enough doctors, so they cut half the patient list. Mental health services have been decimated.

Maggie: We’re actually supposed to have a nurse and a social worker. They don’t even have enough doctors, let alone social workers.

Sean: There’s a waiting list there and we’d have to go through it all over again. We are getting no support. I never get physical, but it is verbal, calling each other…

Maggie: You’re more verbal than physical.

Sean: We’d like to be able to have a psychiatrist. But they said if things go wrong, just call the police. I’m not going to call the police on Maggie, because they called the police on her the first time round when she was sectioned.

Maggie: They treated me like a criminal (when I had my first breakdown). They put me in a cell and I freaked out quite a lot. They were sitting down with me and trying to calm me down and things like that. Then they took me to a hospital in Kettering. They were giving me all these injections, to sedate me. There was a doctor in there and he was asking me all this stuff and the sort of thoughts I had.

It’s hard to remember that far back. I was saying things about the government and he was trying to get me to say if it was real, or if it wasn’t and I couldn’t tell. I was really delusional and paranoid. The medication helps. That’s about all they do. It just sort of bloats you. They just give you the medication and send you on your way. If you go a while without a crisis they assume you are okay.

Bedroom tax

Late last year, Sean and Maggie had a call from their housing association to ask if they’d be able to pay it.

Sean: We said “we’ll have to. We don’t have a choice. We don’t want to move out of here…” I’m not moving out of here. The [spare] bedroom is about as a long as this hallway It’s a walk in closet.

Maggie: It’s like the one I was in before this one.

Sean: That was shit. You couldn’t open the door with the bed it in and you couldn’t make the bed without sliding and pulling the bed towards the door. It was like being a fucking hamster or something…. They will have to come in with the police and drag me out, or they remove me in a body bag. They’re ruining the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, many much worse off than we are.

Just think back how this mess started -it was the greedy, incompetent banks that made this mess. They still get massive wages and bonuses and we get the shite end of the stick.

Mary Laver: I’d consider a hunger strike to save the Independent Living Fund

The video below features Mary Laver, who I talked with when I was in Newcastle last week.

Mary was an Olympic torchbearer and volunteer last year.

She is also an Independent Living Fund recipient. She has severe rheumatoid arthritis and is unable to move on her own.

The ILF was set up in 1988 as a stand-alone fund to which people with severe disabilities could apply for money for added carer hours. That extra money meant that people could afford to pay carers for the help that they needed – round-the-clock, in some cases – to live independent lives. At the end of last year, though, the government decided to close the Independent Living Fund and devolve it to councils – a vile decision which will leave people with severe mobility impairments unable to pay for the high levels of care that they need to live independent lives in their own homes.

As Mary says – without the extra funding for care that the ILF pays for, she’ll be left sitting alone for hours in her house, in her own urine. I have a Guardian story which features other ILF recipients talking about their fight against this cut. Disabled People Against Cuts has been publishing testimonies with other people with severe disabilities who are facing this appalling prospect of lives without the levels of care that they need. A group of ILF recipients challenged the closure decision in court earlier in March. DPAC has a good summary of responses to the DWP’s “consultation” exercise on the closure here. It’s extremely clear that already-cashstrapped councils will not be able to fund the care hours people need.

The ILF closure decision is repulsive. I had a DWP press officer yelling in my ear about this, insisting that the closure wasn’t a cut – but it’s a cut all right. It’s a bloody cut. This DPAC summary of consultation responses and reports will tell you all you need to know about that. Also – I’ll be following up with people as things unfold, so we’ll see how things look as that happens. The DWP will be approached for further exchanges.

I’ve got more video interviews to add and should have those done soon.

Repost: American women on workfare talk about their lives

This article is from February 2012.

I wrote this series on US workfare as the UK government looked looked to emulate US welfare-to-work (workfare) programmes as part of “welfare reform.” I wanted to examine the US experience of workfare for comparison.

The series on US workfare programmes considered the failure of those programmes to move welfare recipients into paid jobs and the racism and sexism that informed Wisconsin’s much-touted (by welfare reformers) welfare-to-work scheme.

In this article, two New York workfare workers talk about workfare and their experience of workfare’s sanctions process – having welfare cheques suddenly cut for apparently failing to comply with workfare’s strict rules. They define welfare-to-work as “slavery” – a punitive, poorly-administered system that has little to do with helping welfare recipients into ongoing, paid work and everything to do with pushing people off welfare and into a pool of free, disposable labour:

I get an unexpected response when I ask one-time New York work experience programme (WEP) workfare participants Pamela Brown and Tyletha Samuels if they were ever sanctioned when they were in workfare. They both fall apart laughing on their end of the phone.

Everybody on workfare gets sanctioned at one point or another, Samuels says. Or at least – that’s what it feels like. You can miss a day at work for a doctor’s appointment that your caseworker fails to record properly, or turn up at the wrong workplace because you’ve misunderstood an instruction, or find that you’ve been given the wrong instructions and – that’s it. You’re issued with a failure to comply notice and sanctioned.

Brown says on one notable day during her time on workfare, she was expected to be in four places at once. She thinks that was probably a systems, or inputting, error. Whatever it was, she paid the price. “I can’t split myself in four, so those other three appointments in the system – I didn’t make them.” She says that she was sanctioned several times in one year.

Brown was forced to apply for public assistance when she lost her job after working for 20 years in the banking industry. She was sacked after refusing to sell subprime mortgages. “Being a woman of colour, I was approached for a promotion [to sell mortgages to people of colour] and I was fired because I turned it down.” She was a single mother with children in college. “I applied for aid and I went into workfare. I began to find out how rigorous sanctions are.”

Find out she did. In addition to their workfare experiences, Brown and Samuels are organisers for the New York workfare-rights campaigning organisation Community Voices Heard – a member-based advocacy group made up primarily of women who’ve experienced welfare and workfare. The group is involved in grassroots organising, civic engagement and direct action campaigns. CVH is also trying to encourage the New York City Human Resources Administration (HRA), the city agency that administers welfare programmes, to move away from punitive sanctions (and cutting welfare rolls) and towards transitional benefits and jobs, and career-relevant training, for people on welfare.

Certainly, welfare advocates argue that workfare administrators sanction too enthusiastically. A 2008 CVH invetigation had some 68% of back-to-work applicants being issued with failure to comply notices while in the back to work programme. The same report found that 60% of all failure to comply notices “were found to be in error after HRA reviewed the cases at conciliation hearings.” Sanctions are often wrongly applied, then.

The problem is that people have nothing to live on while they wait for appeal cases to be heard. As Samuels says – “If you complain (about being sanctioned), the first thing out of their mouths is – you can apply for a fair hearing. [The problem is] – what does she [a welfare recipient] eat for a month while she waits 30  to 45 days to get her case her back on? You’ve got no money and you owe the landlord another month’s rent.” High sanction rates are generally a much-remarked-on problem in the US.

This is not a good time for that.

In this era of high unemployment, the US emphasis on cutting welfare rolls looks more and more disastrous. There are warning signs for the UK here. CBPP analysts observe in this paper that unemployment remains high “and the prospects of finding jobs, especially for people with low skills, are poor. In August 2011, unemployment was 9.1 percent. Over 42.9% of the 14 million people who are unemployed have been looking for work for half a year or longer.” (That percentage figure is repeated for January 2012, with a drop in unemployment numbers). In austerity, some states are further tightening benefit-eligibility time-limits and cutting monthly cash-assistance benefits. As the academic John Krinsky said in previous articles, modern US welfare reform, with its 1996 introduction of lifetime time-limits for benefit eligibility, exclusion of immigrants and compulsory workfare and sanctions for non-attenders, prioritised welfare roll-reduction ahead of genuine job placement and creation.

For Brown and Samuels, CVH was the ticket out of welfare and workfare. They became CVH members, then organisers.

Before that, Samuels was an unpaid clerical workfare worker at a Medicaid office.

“I liked that job. I thought there would be a [paid] job at the end of it, but there wasn’t.” That’s not an unusual story for workfare workers. Estimates put just five percent of New York’s workfare participants in actual paid jobs. Workfare workers must take any job – even if they’re unlikely to find a real one at the end of it – or risk losing their benefits. Brown found she was sent to maintenance jobs. “Nothing ever turned into employment. I worked hard, saying – “here is my resume. Why aren’t you sending me more towards office positions?” A lot of time, these places – they know how desperate you are. They are always dangling that idea of work.”

And, says Samuels, there is always that threat of sanctions. Lose your welfare cheque in this environment and you’re in an awful place. That can be no different in the UK.