Housing benefit can be the route to social mobility

Without housing benefit mine and my family's life chances would have been obliterated.

For four weeks in 2008, aged 24 and an unemployed graduate, I tried to claim housing benefit. I had just moved to London with my then partner from Yorkshire via a postgraduate training course in Essex, and a stint living back with my dad and temping in a bid to clear multifarious student debts. Both my partner and I were interning, me for a national magazine, he for a think tank. Neither of us was paid bar minimal expenses. But since his internship was longer-term, DFSS somehow decided that constituted a job, a job that meant he could or should support me (despite the fact he was living on hand-outs from his parents) and which invalidated my claim for housing benefit after just three weeks. In the end his family (who lived in Cyprus) offered to lend me some money, and soon after I landed a minimum wage media database job.

I was relatively privileged. There was some housing benefit available to me, for however short a time. At the eleventh hour, there was someone to help out. If I’d gone back home to West Yorkshire I could have kissed goodbye to a media career in the capital and my autonomy, but I’d still have had bare means. Certainly more than my younger cousin, a carpenter by trade, married with two small children and who had lost his job twice in 12 months since the recession gauged a chunk out of the northern economy, relying on benefits to keep him and his family going until he finally found work again. Brought up in a two-up two-down terrace, moving back into his childhood home with his partner and two small children wouldn’t exactly have made for comfortable living. That my aunt had serious health problems and one of her daughters (admittedly over the age of 25), her partner and two small children living with them for a while too due to similar economic constraints would have made it untenable.

Give or take a couple of years and Cameron’s proposed policy would have seen my cousin and I, two prime examples of the ‘feckless’, ‘entitled’ under-25-year-old benefit scroungers he wishes to obliterate, pretty much obliterated before we’d had a chance to make adult lives for ourselves. 

Where should my cousin have moved back to, exactly, Mr Cameron when there was no work for him, though he was desperate to graft, and when his family home was already overstretched? And shouldn’t I, along with thousands of other have been paid for working in the first place, so that there was no need to claim housing benefit? For me, housing benefit was a means of realising my ambitions and enabling social mobility; for my cousin, it was a matter of basic sustenance and pride.  Neither of us wanted state support, but to be able to support ourselves. And that’s not even to mention the situations, needs, or desires of our parents, whom Cameron would similarly see encumbered by banishing us back home in his bid not to overburden the state.

In Cameronland, it’s either spare bedrooms and free use of the second car, or gutless work-shysters who dream of a shabby, free flat on a sink estate. There may well be some 18-year-olds that plot a trajectory from their parents’ council house to their own, but for the majority of the 380,000 under-25-year-olds currently claiming house benefit, their circumstances will be as nuanced and complex as Cameron’s proposed policy is crude. You might want to look at some of those case studies, Mr Cameron, before being dazzled by the immediate cost savings. The sanctity – and sanity – of your so-called big society is at stake.

A block of flats in Bath. Photograph: Getty Images

Nichi Hodgson is a writer and broadcaster specialising in sexual politics, censorship, and  human rights. Her first book, Bound To You, published by Hodder & Stoughton, is out now. She tweets @NichiHodgson.

Photo: Getty
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Like it or hate it, it doesn't matter: Brexit is happening, and we've got to make a success of it

It's time to stop complaining and start campaigning, says Stella Creasy.

A shortage of Marmite, arguments over exporting jam and angry Belgians. And that’s just this month.  As the Canadian trade deal stalls, and the government decides which cottage industry its will pick next as saviour for the nation, the British people are still no clearer getting an answer to what Brexit actually means. And they are also no clearer as to how they can have a say in how that question is answered.

To date there have been three stages to Brexit. The first was ideological: an ever-rising euroscepticism, rooted in a feeling that the costs the compromises working with others require were not comparable to the benefits. It oozed out, almost unnoticed, from its dormant home deep in the Labour left and the Tory right, stoked by Ukip to devastating effect.

The second stage was the campaign of that referendum itself: a focus on immigration over-riding a wider debate about free trade, and underpinned by the tempting and vague claim that, in an unstable, unfair world, control could be taken back. With any deal dependent on the agreement of twenty eight other countries, it has already proved a hollow victory.

For the last few months, these consequences of these two stages have dominated discussion, generating heat, but not light about what happens next. Neither has anything helped to bring back together those who feel their lives are increasingly at the mercy of a political and economic elite and those who fear Britain is retreating from being a world leader to a back water.

Little wonder the analogy most commonly and easily reached for by commentators has been that of a divorce. They speculate our coming separation from our EU partners is going to be messy, combative and rancorous. Trash talk from some - including those in charge of negotiating -  further feeds this perception. That’s why it is time for all sides to push onto Brexit part three: the practical stage. How and when is it actually going to happen?

A more constructive framework to use than marriage is one of a changing business, rather than a changing relationship. Whatever the solid economic benefits of EU membership, the British people decided the social and democratic costs had become too great. So now we must adapt.

Brexit should be as much about innovating in what we make and create as it is about seeking to renew our trading deals with the world. New products must be sought alongside new markets. This doesn’t have to mean cutting corners or cutting jobs, but it does mean being prepared to learn new skills and invest in helping those in industries that are struggling to make this leap to move on. The UK has an incredible and varied set of services and products to offer the world, but will need to focus on what we do well and uniquely here to thrive. This is easier said than done, but can also offer hope. Specialising and skilling up also means we can resist those who want us to jettison hard-won environmental and social protections as an alternative. 

Most accept such a transition will take time. But what is contested is that it will require openness. However, handing the public a done deal - however well mediated - will do little to address the division within our country. Ensuring the best deal in a way that can garner the public support it needs to work requires strong feedback channels. That is why transparency about the government's plans for Brexit is so important. Of course, a balance needs to be struck with the need to protect negotiating positions, but scrutiny by parliament- and by extension the public- will be vital. With so many differing factors at stake and choices to be made, MPs have to be able and willing to bring their constituents into the discussion not just about what Brexit actually entails, but also what kind of country Britain will be during and after the result - and their role in making it happen. 

Those who want to claim the engagement of parliament and the public undermines the referendum result are still in stages one and two of this debate, looking for someone to blame for past injustices, not building a better future for all. Our Marmite may be safe for the moment, but Brexit can’t remain a love it or hate it phenomenon. It’s time for everyone to get practical.