Withdrawing benefits when there are no jobs to find is just cruel

A doctor writes first hand of the repercussions of Whitehall hyperbole on benefits.

The government knows exactly what it's doing. When the Prime Minister broadcast his intention to substantially shrink the benefits system, it wasn't because he's blissfully unaware of the consequences. He knows this will remove a crucial lifeline that could condemn millions to an inescapable cycle of poverty.

A pattern is developing with this government. Policies are announced that seem so clearly detrimental, those enacting them are declared by detractors as either oblivious to the ramifications or utterly callous. But rather than dismiss their decisions as the immoral acts of ignorant elitists, I want to understand their politics. Instead of blustering and chastising, I'm willing to consider that Cameron's cabinet are neither naive nor malicious. I'd like to know how they justify their actions, and why they think what they're proposing is right.

As an NHS doctor I can't agree with sweeping cuts to welfare. We need a social security safety net because the unexpected is precisely that. You cannot predict the personal disasters that drive the need for benefits, in the same way that no-one sets out to require emergency medical treatment. It's not a culture of entitlement, and it's not a lifestyle choice. It's a last resort. Doctors see first hand the repercussions of Whitehall hyperbole. Half a million people will lose their disability living allowance by 2016. They won't lose their disability. Accident and Emergency departments face the overwhelming challenge of a newly homeless generation when housing benefit for under the twenty-fives is withdrawn. When government aid is withheld from the people who need it  the most, the NHS feels the impact.

Nonetheless, the Conservative's idea is perfectly valid: switch the emphasis from benefits to employment. Make it more profitable to work than to rely on the state. Enable all people from every part of society to determine their own existence, instead of being reliant on the whims of government funded charity. It's a well known argument:give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he feasts for a lifetime.

Even when judged by their own standards, this government falls short. So far they've taken away the fish. This is the easy half, the half that abdicates state responsibility for the most vulnerable in society. Truly compassionate conservatism would be to ensure a reliable alternative income for each and every person who has their benefits withdrawn. Otherwise those previously trapped on handouts will be just as trapped, but without any financial support at all.

Unicef has already warned the UK government that their spending cuts will reverse the progress made on tackling child poverty. A recent joint report from Action for Children, the NSPCC and The Children's Society has concluded that depression, poor quality housing and poverty are far more prevalent than government figures suggest. Children's charity Kids Company has seen a two hundred percent increase in families relying on them to avoid starvation over the past twelve months. Further cuts to basic social securities will do little to help this sobering trend.

Reducing housing benefit, capping the numbers eligible for council houses and asking the jobless to do full time community work for free does nothing to address the fundamental flaw in Cameron's argument. Focusing on jobs not handouts conveniently forgets that employment is the part you need to get right first. It relies on a buoyant jobs market where employers are willing to risk their business on a previously unemployed and potentially unskilled workforce. The UK is fast approaching three million unemployed. In today's calamitous economic situation, even the most qualified and most experienced remain out of work.

Giving people no choice but to find a job is a great way to get them off benefits. Unless there are no jobs. There is no plan to address the fallout of Cameron's rhetoric. The new homeless, impoverished disabled and jobless millions don't factor into his equation, where you're either productive and employed or a work-shy fraudster. The least appropriate action for the government is precisely what they're promoting: withdrawing the only means of survival for someone powerless to change their circumstances without help. No matter how you cut it, that's cruel.

Tom Riddington is a NHS hosptial doctor with a special interest in medical ethics and healthcare politics. You can find him on twitter @drtomriddington.

 

Job seekers need jobs to find. Photograph: Getty Images
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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times