Paralympians speak out about disability benefit cuts

Several British medallists could lose much-needed financial support when Iain Duncan Smith's Personal Independence Payment replaces Disability Living Allowance on 8 April.

Only six months ago, in a period of gold-tinted optimism for disability, British Paralympians were heralded as heroes. From 8 April (pdf), Disability Living Allowance, or DLA – the benefit which helps many pay for care and mobility costs – is being scrapped and, along with more than two million other disabled people, many Paralympians now facing losing the support they rely on.

DLA’s replacement – Personal Independence Payment (PIP) – is designed to cut £2.24bn annually from the welfare budget by 2015-16. The number eligible for the new award will be smaller and the assessment criteria are narrower. According to the Government’s own estimate, the changes will see 500,000 people lose their benefit.

So what do our Paralympian heroes (copyright all papers) make of the changes? Sophie Christiansen who won three gold medals at the 2012 Paralympics in dressage, tells me that receiving Disability Living Allowance enabled her to compete in the Games.  

She has cerebral palsy and relies on the benefit to pay for the extra care support she needs when she goes away to competitions, as well as the wheelchair and scooter she uses to get around venues.

She can’t walk long distances or use public transport very easily on her own and DLA paid for the car she needs to drive herself to training.  

 

Sophie Christiansen. Photo: Getty

The Paralympians might have been sold as "superhumans" during the Games, but the reality is that many of them have extra financial needs because of their disabilities. Christiansen tells me it can be a struggle to meet them financially.

“The Paralympics were just the glamorous end product . . .” Christiansen says. “I get the same amount of funding as Olympians and they don't have to cover disability-related costs with that money.”

Natasha Baker, a para-equestrian who won two gold medals at the London Games, says she also owes her success to receiving Disability Living Allowance. As a child, it funded her riding lessons as a therapeutic sport. She now relies on it for transport, using the Mobility scheme within DLA to lease a car. 

She tells me she’s concerned that once PIP is introduced, she will no longer be eligible for support. Her disability – a neurological disorder that causes severe muscle weakness – leaves her needing help with care and mobility but it can vary from day to day.

“If I have the assessment on a day I’m feeling good . . .” she says. “I’m just really worried.”

To be awarded PIP, claimants will have to score a certain number of points in relation to 12 activities, such as washing and bathing or moving around. Recent concessions to guidance mean that assessors will be required by law to consider whether claimants can perform tasks repeatedly, safely and reliably but there remains concern that the criteria are too tight and the assessment style is too restrictive. For example, Natasha Baker stresses that her mobility can depend on anything from time of day to the surface or angle of what she’s walking on. 

Baker, who was awarded an MBE this year, now finds herself worrying whether the Government will stop the money she relies on. 

She tells me she’d like those in charge of the benefit changes to spend a week in a wheelchair to see how difficult it is to get around. “There are other ways of cutting and saving money in this country,” she adds. “I don’t see why they have to target people who are vulnerable.”

 

Natasha Baker. Photo: Getty

Tara Flood, a retired Paralympic gold medallist swimmer and world record holder, says the removal of DLA is “a government attack on disabled people’s lives”. She is angry that people like her are seen as “easy targets” and tells me she’s “extremely worried” about being assessed.

It’s a concern that has only been exacerbated by the knowledge that Atos, the private healthcare company behind the much-criticised Work Capability Assessment, will be carrying out the majority of PIP assessments, having been given more than £400m worth of contracts. Last summer, Flood took part in a protest against Atos’ sponsorship of the Paralympics and tells me she thinks their role in determining who will receive the new benefit is “disgusting.”

“The PIP process is fundamentally flawed. I can’t imagine anyone delivering it in a way that isn’t dehumanising,” she says. “The impact will be so shocking. Twenty per cent of disabled people who receive this support are going to lose it . . . I’m terrified.”

Like Sophie Christiansen and Natasha Baker, Tara relies on her mobility allowance to help pay for an adapted car. She now faces the fear of losing it as DLA is removed and assessments for PIP begin.

Under the new rules, claimants must be unable to walk more than 20 metres to receive the enhanced mobility component of PIP - and without this, they will not qualify for the Motability scheme. The narrower eligibility criteria mean it is feared that many people with significant mobility impairments will be denied the vehicle they currently rely on for independence. The Department of Work and Pension’s own estimate is that over the next five years some 428,000 people will lose their eligibility. Disability campaigners are currently working to mount a judicial review on what was a last minute and controversial change to the assessment criteria.

Tara Flood tells me that losing her car would damage every aspect of her life. “I would effectively be isolated in my own home,” she says. “I’d lose my job, my connection to my community, my family.”

She’s clearly angry at the benefit changes but also what she sees as the accompanying, ever prevalent, idea that disabled people are asking too much. “I want to live an ordinary life in a society that treats me as a human being,” she stresses. “That isn’t unreasonable.”

Flood tells me she thinks back on her hope that Great Britain’s Paralympics triumphs would have a positive effect on the lives of disabled people in this country. As she and others face the imminent removal of support they rely on, it seems a cruel irony.

“When I hear ministers talk about the legacy of the Paralympics, saying how good things are . . . What planet are they living on?” she says. “In fact, things have got worse.”

Sophie Christiansen after being awarded her Paralympic gold medal last year. Photograph: Getty Images

Frances Ryan is a journalist and political researcher. She writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman, and others on disability, feminism, and most areas of equality you throw at her. She has a doctorate in inequality in education. Her website is here.

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Not since the Thatcher years have so many Tory MPs been so motivated by self-interest

Assured of an election win, backbenchers are thinking either advancing up the greasy pole, or mounting it for the first time. 

One hears despair from Labour not just about probable defeat, but from MPs who felt they had three years to improve the party’s fortunes, or to prepare for personal oblivion. In the Conservative Party, matters seem quite the opposite. Veterans of the 1983 election recall something similar: a campaign fought in the absolute certainty of winning. Theresa May talked of putting the interests of the country first when she engineered the poll, and one must believe she was sincere. However, for those expecting to be Tory MPs after 8 June there are other priorities. Theirs is not a fight for the national interest, because that for them is a foregone conclusion. It is about their self-interest: either advancing up the greasy pole, or mounting it for the first time. They contemplate years ahead in which to consolidate their position and, eventually, to shape the tone and direction of the party.

The luxury of such thoughts during a campaign comes only when victory is assured. In 1983 I worked for a cabinet minister and toured marginal seats with him. Several candidates we met – most of whom won – made it clear privately that however important it was to serve their constituents, and however urgent to save the country from the threats within what the late Gerald Kaufman later called “the longest suicide note in history”, there was another issue: securing their place in the Thatcher revolution. Certain they and their party would be elected in the aftermath of the Falklands War, they wanted their snout in the trough.

These are early days, but some conver­sations with those heading for the next House of Commons echo the sentiments of 1983. The contemporary suicide note has not appeared, but is keenly awaited. Tories profess to take less notice of opinion polls than they once did – and with good reason, given the events of 2015 and 2016 – but ­imagine their party governing with a huge majority, giving them a golden opportunity to advance themselves.

Labour promises to change the country; the Liberal Democrats promise to force a reconsideration of Brexit; Ukip ­promises to ban the burqa; but the Tories believe power is theirs without the need for elaborate promises, or putting any case other than that they are none of the above. Thus each man and woman can think more about what the probability of four or five further years in the Commons means to them. This may seem in poor taste, but that is human nature for you, and it was last seen in the Labour Party in about 2001.

Even though this cabinet has been in place only since last July, some Tory MPs feel it was never more than an interim arrangement, and that some of its incumbents have underperformed. They expect vacancies and chances for ministers of state to move up. Theresa May strove to make her team more diverse, so it is unfortunate that the two ministers most frequently named by fellow Tories as underachievers represent that diversity – Liz Truss, the Lord Chancellor, who colleagues increasingly claim has lost the confidence of the judiciary and of the legal profession along with their own; and Sajid Javid, the Communities Secretary, whom a formerly sympathetic backbencher recently described to me as having been “a non-event” in his present job.

Chris Grayling, the Transport Secretary, was lucky to survive his own stint as lord chancellor – a post that must surely revert to a qualified lawyer, with Dominic Grieve spoken of in that context, even though, like all ardent Remainers in the government, he would be expected to follow the Brexit line – and the knives are out for him again, mainly over Southern Rail but also HS2. David Gauke, the Chief Secretary to the Treasury, and the little-known Ben Gummer, a Cabinet Office minister, are tipped for promotion with Grieve if vacancies arise: that all three are white men may, or may not, be a consideration.

Two other white men are also not held in high regard by colleagues but may be harder to move: Boris Johnson, whose conduct of the Foreign Office is living down to expectations, and Michael Fallon, whose imitation of the Vicar of Bray over Brexit – first he was for it, then he was against it, and now he is for it again – has not impressed his peers, though Mrs May considers him useful as a media performer. There is also the minor point that Fallon, the Defence Secretary, is viewed as a poor advocate for the armed forces and their needs at a time when the world can hardly be called a safe place.

The critical indicator of how far personal ambition now shapes the parliamentary Tory party is how many have “done a Fallon” – ministers, or aspirant ministers, who fervently followed David Cameron in advising of the apocalyptic results of Brexit, but who now support Theresa May (who is also, of course, a reformed Remainer). Yet, paradoxically, the trouble Daniel Hannan, an arch-Brexiteer and MEP, has had in trying to win selection to stand in Aldershot – thanks to a Central Office intervention – is said to be because the party wants no one with a “profile” on Europe to be added to the mix, in an apparent attempt to prevent adding fuel to the fire of intra-party dissent. This may appease a small hard core of pro-Remain MPs – such as Anna Soubry, who has sufficient talent to sit in the cabinet – who stick to their principles; but others are all Brexiteers now.

So if you seek an early flavour of the next Conservative administration, it is right before you: one powering on to Brexit, not only because that is what the country voted for, but because that is the orthodoxy those who wish to be ministers must devotedly follow. And though dissent will grow, few of talent wish to emulate Soubry, sitting out the years ahead as backbenchers while their intellectual and moral inferiors prosper.

Simon Heffer is a columnist for the Daily and Sunday Telegraphs

Simon Heffer is a journalist, author and political commentator, who has worked for long stretches at the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail. He has written biographies of Thomas Carlyle, Ralph Vaughan Williams and Enoch Powell, and reviews and writes on politics for the New Statesman

This article first appeared in the 27 April 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Cool Britannia 20 Years On

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