How Osborne's benefits cuts will hit the disabled

Disability campaigners accuse Osborne of misleading the public over his welfare cuts.

In his Autumn Statement, George Osborne sought to give the impression that he had protected the disabled from his benefits cuts. He told the Commons:

We will support the vulnerable.

So carer benefits and disability benefits, including disability elements of tax credits, will be increased in line with inflation

The Chancellor went on to announce that working age benefits would be uprated by just one per cent for the next three years. But what he didn't say is that more than half a million disabled people rely on one of these benefits - the Employment and Support Allowance (introduced as a replacement for Incapacity Benefit) - for their income. Today's Times (£) has an important report on how disability campaigners have responded.

Steve Winyard, co-chairman of the Hardest Hit Coalition, made up of 90 charities and campaign groups, told the paper: "The Chancellor’s statement that he will protect disabled people from welfare cuts is utterly misleading.

"It does not reflect the reality for thousands of disabled people who are already facing barriers to getting into work and education. Cuts to the support they depend upon risk pushing them into poverty, debt and isolation." The disabled stand to lose £400 over the next three years from the real-terms cut in ESA.

Paralympian Tanni Grey-Thompson said: "The people who can least afford appear to be getting hit again."

As Labour contemplates whether to vote against Osborne’s Welfare Uprating Bill (the bill, which is not necessary to introduce the below-inflation rise, is intended as a political trap for Miliband's party), the news that Osborne's cuts will affect the disabled could provide a useful line of attack. In addition to pointing out that the Chancellor is hitting "the strivers" - 60 per cent of the cuts will fall on working families - Labour can now argue that he's hitting the most vulnerable too.

Chancellor George Osborne promised that he would "support the vulnerable" in his Autumn Statement. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.