1,700 disabled workers to lose their jobs as government cuts subsidy

State-owned Remploy factories to close, in a move that Clegg condemned as "brutal" while in oppositi

The disabled have had a rough ride under the coalition, with welfare reform cutting their benefits and support. Now, ministers have announced that more than 1,700 disabled people will lose their jobs this year, because the government is withdrawing its £68m subsidy from Remploy, the disability employer.

Set up to provide jobs for injured servicemen after the second world war, Remploy runs 54 factories which employ staff with a range of physical and mental difficulties. The withdrawal of government support means that 36 of the 54 factories will close. The remaining 18 will be put up for sale, meaning that hundreds of employees there also face an uncertain future.

This is the conclusion of a battle that begun under Labour: the factories have been operating at a loss for years. In opposition, however, both the Employment Minister, Chris Grayling, and the Liberal Democrat leader, Nick Clegg, pledged to keep the factories open. Here is Clegg railing against the "sheer brutality" of the proposed closure in 2007:

 

It is a difficult issue. The government's line is that in the 21st century, it is no longer appropriate for disabled people to work in isolation. The Disability Minister, Maria Miller, said that the multimillion pound subsidy to Remploy could be better spent on other programmes to help the disabled into work. She highlighted figures showing that the annual cost of supporting a Remploy worker was £25,000 a year, as compared to the £2,900 cost of the Access to Work scheme, which gives technology and assistance to firms employing disabled workers.

Yet the timing of this move certainly makes it appear rather cruel, and there is no evidence that sufficient efforts are being made to get disabled people into work. Last week, the welfare reform bill passed, cutting much-needed disabled benefits. Across the UK, unemployment is rising. Already, around 50 per cent of disabled people are unemployed, compared with less than 10 per cent in the rest of the population. As Unite leader Len McCluskey said: "In the worst economic crisis since the 1930s, these workers' prospects of finding work are almost zero."

The workers made redundant by the Remploy closure will be guaranteed support for 18 months, in a package worth £8m. But money is not the only issue. For many disabled people, the right to work and be a part of society is just as important. Cuts to disability living allowance already threaten the ability of many disabled people to pay for transport to get to work. It seems unlikely that Remploy will be replaced with adequate measures to provide opportunities for this group. Even in the boom times, those with mental or physical disabilities struggle to find employment. With five people for every vacancy in the UK, it is difficult to see many firms making the effort to employ these workers. Remploy certainly was not perfect, but its closure -- with no clear replacement -- is yet another step in the wrong direction.

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

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The Randian Republican who could rein in Trump isn’t a coward – he’s much worse

Paul Ryan's refusal to condemn Trump is not caused by terror or fear; rather, it is a cynical, self-serving tactic.

Poor ol’ Paul Ryan. For a few brief hours on 27 January, a week after the inauguration of Donald Trump, the Wikipedia entry for “invertebrates” – which defines them as “animals that neither possess nor develop a vertebral column (commonly known as a backbone or spine)” – was amended to include a smiling picture of the Republican Speaker of the House of Representatives.

The online prank reflected a growing consensus among critics of Ryan: confronted by a boorish and authoritarian president plagued by multiple conflicts of interest, the House Speaker has behaved in a craven and spineless manner. Ryan, goes the conventional wisdom, is a coward.

Yet as is so often the case, the conventional wisdom is wrong. Ryan’s deafening silence over Trump’s egregious excesses has little to do with pusillanimity. It’s much worse than that. The House Speaker is not a coward; he is a shameless opportunist. His refusal to condemn Trump is not caused by terror or fear; rather, it is a cynical, self-serving tactic.

Long before Trump arrived on the scene with his wacky “birther” conspiracies, Ryan was the undisputed star of the GOP; the earnest, number-crunching wunderkind of the right. He was elected to Congress in 1998, aged 28; by 2011, he was head of the House budget committee; by 2012, he was Mitt Romney’s running mate; by 2015, he was Speaker of the House – and third in line for the presidency – at the grand old age of 45.

The Wisconsin congressman has been hailed in the conservative media as the “man with a plan”, the “intellectual leader of the Republican Party”, the “conscience” of the GOP. Yet, again and again, in recent years, he has been singularly unsuccessful in enacting his legislative agenda.

And what kind of agenda might that be? Why, an Ayn Rand-inspired agenda, of course. You know Rand, right? The hero of modern-day libertarians, self-described “radical for capitalism” and author of the dystopian novel Atlas Shrugged. As one of her acolytes wrote to her: “You have the courage to tell the masses what no politician told them: you are inferior and all the improvements in your condition which you simply take for granted you owe to the effort of men who are better than you.”

Ryan is an ideologue who insists on giving copies of Atlas Shrugged to interns in his congressional office. In 2005 he told a gathering of Rand fans, called the Atlas Society, that “the reason I got involved in public service, by and large, if I had to credit one thinker, one person, it would be Ayn Rand”.

Rolling back the evil state while balancing the budget on the backs of the feckless poor, in true Randian fashion, has always been Ryan’s primary goal. Even Newt Gingrich, who served as Republican House Speaker for five years in the 1990s, once decried Ryan’s proposals to privatise Medicare ­– the popular federal health insurance programme that covers people over the age of 65 – as “right-wing social engineering”.

These days, Ryan has a useful idiot in the White House to help him pull off the right-wing social engineering that he couldn’t pull off on his own. Trump, who doesn’t do detail or policy, is content, perhaps even keen, to outsource his domestic agenda to the policy wonk from Wisconsin.

The Speaker has made his deal with the devil: a reckless and racist demagogue, possibly in cahoots with Russia, can trample over the law, erode US democratic norms and embarrass the country, and the party, at home and abroad. And in return? Ryan gets top-rate tax cuts. To hell with the constitution.

Trump, lest we forget, ran as an insurgent against the Republican establishment during the primaries, loudly breaking with hard-right GOP orthodoxy on issues such as infrastructure spending (Trump promised more), health-care reform (Trump promised coverage for all) and Medicaid (Trump promised no cuts). It was all a charade, a con. And Ryan knew it. The Speaker may have been slow to endorse Trump but when he did so, last June, he made it clear that “on the issues that make up our agenda, we have more common ground than disagreement”.

A year later, Ryan has been vindicated: free trade deals aside, Trump is governing as a pretty conventional, hard-right conservative. Consider the first important budget proposal from the Trump administration, published on 23 May. For Ryan, it’s a Randian dream come true: $800bn slashed from Medicaid, which provides health care to low-income Americans, plus swingeing cuts to Snap (the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Programme, aka food stamps), Chip (the Children’s Health Insurance Programme) and SSDI (disability insurance).

In Trump, Ryan and his fellow anti-government hardliners in Congress have found the perfect frontman to enact their reverse-Robin Hood economic agenda: a self-declared, rhetorical champion of white, working-class voters whose actual Ryan-esque policies – on tax cuts, health care, Wall Street regulation and the rest – bolster only the billionaire class at their expense.

Don’t be distracted by all the scandals: the president has been busy using his tiny hands to sign a wide array of bills, executive orders and judicial appointments that have warmed the cold hearts of the Republican hard right.

Impeachment, therefore, remains a liberal fantasy – despite everything we’re discovering about Russia, Michael Flynn, James Comey and the rest. Does anyone seriously expect this Republican-dominated House of Representatives to bring articles of impeachment against Trump? With Paul Ryan in charge of it? Don’t. Be. Silly.

Mehdi Hasan is a broadcaster and New Statesman contributing editor. He is based in Washington, DC

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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