The benefit cap: what does it mean and why is it unfair?

Peers are to fight plans to cap benefits at £26,000, despite public support. Here is everything you

What is the benefit cap?

A cornerstone of Iain Duncan Smith's welfare reform, the principle behind the benefit cap is that unemployed people should not be paid more than working families. Under the proposals, working-age benefits would be capped at £500 per week, or £26,000 a year. This is equivalent to the average wage earned by working households after tax.

What do voters think?

The public are broadly with Duncan Smith on this one. A YouGov poll shows that 76 per cent of the public are in favour of the benefits cap, including 69 per cent of Labour voters. It also shows that 36 per cent would like to see even tougher measures, with no household getting more than £20,000 in welfare payments.

Why is it unfair?

There are several criticisms levelled against the cap, centering on the impact on children, and on the very families -- those in work and paying taxes -- who it is meant to defend.

It takes no account of children
The benefit cap is the same regardless of how many children a family has. Therefore a family with five children would receive the same amount as a family with just one or two. This has proved particularly problematic, with church leaders have called for child benefit to be exempted, while Nick Clegg conceded that government may need to look at "the place of children who were born, if you like, innocently into another set of rules".

Leaked government analysis showed that the move could push a further 100,000 children into poverty. Duncan Smith's team are scathing about an amendment that would exempt child benefit, saying it would encourage people on benefits to have more children. But what about families that already have many children? They should not be penalised for the fact of their existence.

It ignores employment history
A couple who have never worked will end up being less affected than families on a low to middle income who are suddenly affected by unemployment in the recession. This is because families with parents who have never worked will tend to live in social housing where rents are cheaper. However, low to middle earners are likely to rent privately: they are not poor enough to qualify for council accommodation but not well off enough to buy. There are 680,000 working households claiming housing benefit, making up 14 per cent of the total housing benefit caseload.

As the recession claims more and more jobs, many families who need short-term support could find themselves in an impossible position. Duncan Smith has criticised "people being placed in houses they cannot afford", but for these families, it is a case of rapidly changing circumstances rather than flagrantly living above their means.

It penalises those in the south-east
Rents are higher in the south-east, and cutting housing benefit to £100 a week makes it practically impossible for a family with children to rent privately. In the Guardian today, Tim Leunig says that after council tax, rent and utilities, a family with four children would be left with 62p per person per day to live on.

Critics have said that this will result in "social cleansing" from inner-city areas -- the percentage of privately rented properties in central London available to housing benefit claimants will fall from more than 50 per cent to just 7 per cent. Leunig predicts that many people will remain in these areas, where job prospects are better, but will have to "downsize", with siblings sharing bedrooms and parents sleeping on sofa-beds.

Who opposes it?

Lord Paddy Ashdown, the former Liberal Democrat leader, has said that he is unable to support the reform as it will unfairly penalise children in benefit dependent homes. He said:

I voted with the Government on everything until now. I see it as my job as an ex-leader to support my successor, but I will not support the benefit cap in its present form.

Church of England bishops, led by John Packer, the Bishop of Ripon and Leeds, will today table the key amendment around which rebel Lords plan to gather. It would exempt child benefit from the cap. As outlined above, the government is hostile to such a plan, though Clegg has suggested that there may be some scope for "transitional arrangements" to cushion the effect.

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

Getty
Show Hide image

Ukip's "integration agenda" is another lurch away from the mainstream

Ukip's only chance of survival is on the nativist fringe. It won't be a happy - or successful - existence. 

After Ukip leader Paul Nuttall failed to steal a famous by-election victory in Stoke-on-Trent, his party’s militant tendency offered a prompt and simple diagnosis: the party was just too nice.

Two months on, with Nuttall now pledging to ban the burqa, sharia courts, new Islamic schools, subject girls from at-risk backgrounds to yearly female genital mutilation checks and make race an aggravating factor in some offences, they are unlikely to making those same complaints. Of the many criticisms one can make of the controversial policy blitz, a surfeit of niceness isn’t one of them – even if Nuttall is comparing himself to Gandhi. But what explains Ukip’s lurch deep into Breitbart territory – and what does it mean for the future of the party?

It’s tempting to chalk this one up as a victory for the hardliners who derided Nuttall – who, absurd though it seems now, was Ukip’s unity candidate – and his attempts to court women voters with a softer, “Nicekip” platform. It’s true that Douglas Carswell and Mark Reckless, loathed by the fags-and-flags wing of the party for their wet anti-Faragism and prim sensibilities, are safely gone. Liberated from the strain of, erm, having an MP, the true believers have taken back control.

That neat analysis quickly falls down when one takes a look at the chippiest defenders of Ukip’s new “integration agenda”: Suzanne Evans and Patrick O’Flynn. Once the pair were at the vanguard of the push to unseat Farage and chart a friendlier tack into Tory seats in the Shires. Now they try and spin policies that could be justly criticised with a favourite Carswell slur – “ugly nativism” – as a sort of noble muscular secularism. That they of all people are endorsing the new line underlines just how much trouble Ukip are in. Deprived of their ownership of Brexit, the party has little, if anything, left to offer the political mainstream.

The consequences have been felt more keenly inside the party than in the country, where Ukip has plunged to below 5 per cent in some polls. Plenty would argue that the party – even at their high watermark around 2014 – never operated within the mainstream currents of political thought anyway, instead dragging the Tories to the right. But it was always an uneasy and at times barely coherent coalition between the authoritarian and libertarian right, united only by their rejection of Europe. For the latter, Ukip isn’t about opposition to the sensibilities of polite society but compatibility with them. Theirs is a focus on grammar schools, hard graft and flat taxes, not smearing Romanians and hanging child murderers.

Whatever the likes of O’Flynn and Evans say, though, Ukip has now ceded that libertarian ground it once had claim to. Disgruntled and departed Kippers point to Nuttall’s loss in Stoke-on-Trent Central as the reason why.

“Since the focus on the EU has gone, and after the election in Stoke, there have been people within the Ukip NEC trying to drive the party towards the far-right,” says Tariq Mahmood, a practicing Muslim and self-styled libertarian who stood for the party in neighbouring Stoke-on-Trent South in 2015. He has since joined the Conservatives, and complains that efforts to court the aspirational middle classes and British Muslims (among whom he says Ukip are now “100 per cent” finished) have been jettisoned in favour of what an essentially nativist platform. While Ukip stress that their beef is with cultural practices and not Islam, Mahmood believes that argument is a mere figleaf - and Ukip, he says, know the distinction will be lost on many people. 

“It was an uphill struggle even previously to try to persuade individuals that we were a libertarian party and that we were not hostile to any individual belief,” he adds, ruefully. “Now, with what Peter Whittle and Paul [Nuttall] have said on integration, and with the prevailing mood with the NEC, the strategy seems to be to create division.”

The logic behind this ideological retrenchment is clear enough. Though Ukip stood in 624 seats at the 2015 election, insiders acknowledge that they are unlikely to reach anywhere near that total this time. Its chances of winning even one seat are perilously slim, as is painfully clear from Nuttall's prevarication as to whether he'll stand or where exactly. Resources will instead be poured into a handful of target seats that broke heavily for leave last June, and the party’s (white) core demographic courted much more ruthlessly. 

But those resources, historically scant anyway, have been depleted by its rightward lurch: both Mahmood and Owais Rajput, a former parliamentary candidate in Bradford East, speak of a flight of Asian members from the party. “There’s nothing left for me, other than to resign. It’s not only me – there are lots of other British citizens of Muslim faith who are following me as well,” he told me on the day Ukip dropped its new policies. “Their policy, long-term, is to try to create division in local communities, which is very, very dangerous.”

Both agree that Ukip’s future is as an ethnic nationalist party, which Nuttall and those around him have vigorously denied. But if that is the party’s strategy, it’s a witless one. Ukip has already swallowed most of those votes already, as the decline of the British National Party shows, and the electoral ceiling for those politics is a low one. The party may well tighten its grip on its small demographic core, but will hasten the flight of softer members and voters to the Tories.

Its breakneck change of pace will also bodes ill for its survival as a cohesive fighting force. There will inevitably be further tension among its febrile cohort of elected politicians. Nuttall’s foreign affairs spokesman, West Midlands MEP Jim Carver, this week resigned his post in protest at the burqa ban proposal (“I’m an old liberal,” he told me. “You’ve got to have that freedom of choice.”). He insists he won’t be quitting, and likened Ukip’s internal wrangles to those in other parties. “What you’ve got to is call out people you disagree with,” he said. “Look at the stick that people like Tom Watson is getting from Momentum! This isn’t just happening in Ukip. There’s a tug of war going in all political parties.”  

But Carver is a Ukip member of abnormal vintage, having joined the party in 1996. For others the allegiance cannot and will not hold as the party’s public face gets uglier and its electoral positioning even more uncompromising.  As the exodus of its 2015 supporters to the Tories shows, Ukip’s electoral cachet is a much more ephemeral thing than the parties of old. Senior figures protest that policing Brexit remains key to its policy platform.

Its new strategy underlines how the party cannot remain a broad church defined entirely by its opposition to Europe. “All I know,” Carver told me, “is that I’ve got to be true to my principles”. Recent events prove for most of the wetter wing of his party, that will mean leaving.

Patrick Maguire writes about politics and is the 2016 winner of the Anthony Howard Award.

0800 7318496