Why Iain Duncan Smith needs to get his facts straight

The Work and Pensions Secretary insists that “almost everyone” can find work. The statistics tell a

Iain Duncan Smith, the Work and Pensions Secretary, is interviewed by Mary Riddell and Andrew Porter in the Daily Telegraph today.

Discussing the much-feted universal credit welfare reform, the article notes that there will be a "marked shift" away from Britain's generous welfare system to a "more punitive, American-style one" that punishes "those who refuse to work".

This is the passage that caught my attention:

"The message will go across; play ball or it's going to be difficult," he says.

Pressed on the penalty regime and the gradual taking away of benefits from the most recalcitrant, Mr Duncan Smith first offers lengthy and detailed explanations about why almost all people will get back into work if they can.

But some, he acknowledges, will refuse. What will happen to these people and how will the system come after them?

"I think most of the public think that progressively you send them signals. They have a bit withdrawn, then a bit more, then eventually [you] have to say you will eventually lose all your benefit.

"The signal will get round very quickly that you are serious about this. We may have to do it initially to some of the more recalcitrant people. But I have a view about human nature: most people, once you start to show them the right way out, I think most people move.

"Those who won't play get lost in the system at present and they infect everyone else."

Let's just recap on the facts here. There are currently just under 2.5 million people claiming Jobseekers' Allowance in the UK. Analysis by the TUC in the summer found that dole claimants outnumber job vacancies by five to one. In London, it's more like seven to one, and in some boroughs even higher – in Hackney, it's 24 to one.

The number of job vacancies across the country has fallen consistently over the past 12 months. It is unlikely this will change. The government itself estimates that about 490,000 public-sector jobs will be lost as a result of the cuts set out in the Spending Review.

While ministers suggest that this will be offset by growth in the private sector, there is no indication of why this would be the case. A report by PwC last month argued that cuts would hurt the private sector, too, and forecast a further 500,000 job losses here – bringing the total to one million. Another estimate this week put the figure as high as 1.6 million.

Sadly, the interview does not elaborate on the "lengthy and detailed explanations" that Duncan Smith gave as to why everyone can get back into work. Given these figures, I would certainly be interested to know: getting "on your bike" to find work is irrelevant if there are five people for every job – if not dramatically more, once the cuts hit.

If the new system is going to be, as the article says, more akin to the punitive American system, one need only look across the Atlantic to see that this is difficult to maintain in such straitened times. President Obama has had to extend the 99-week limit on claiming benefits several times because of the dearth of jobs in some states.

A simpler benefits system that doesn't trap people in a dependency cycle is a commendable aim. Yet the continued suggestion that people are "choosing" not to work in the present economic climate is not only unreasonable; it indicates a worrying view of the poor. It also shows a wilful misunderstanding of current times, given that many, many more people will soon be forced to claim state support, whether they want to or not.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood