The next stage of welfare reform: work more hours or lose your benefits

Ministers consider plans to force workers to increase their hours or change jobs in return for receiving Universal Credit payments.

Rarely a day now passes without ministers looking to impose new conditions on welfare claimants. The latest proposal under consideration, as today's Guardian reports, is for low-paid workers to be forced to work more hours or face losing their benefits.

Ahead of the national launch of Universal Credit in October, a DWP document notes that "the current Jobseekers Allowance caseload will be joined by current claimants of tax credits/housing benefit who are working less than could reasonably be expected." It adds: "The Welfare Reform Act enables us to place a wide range of mandatory requirements on this group (e.g. work search, work availability and work preparation requirements). Any requirement must be intended to help them find work, more work or better paid work." 

Universal Credit claimants will be divided into six groups (see below): working enough (individual and household), working could do more, not working, too sick to work right now, too committed to work right now and too sick to work. It is the second of these groups that the proposals are concerned with. The DWP suggests that claimants could be required to move job if and where "other avenues (additional job, more work with same employer) have proved unsuccessful". 

Responding to the department's "call for ideas", a new Policy Exchange report recommends that all new in-work claimants should be required to attend an initial interview at a JobCentre "where a conditionality regime should be set up to ensure the individual is doing all they can to increase their hours and earnings". It adds that claimants should then be forced to attend a quarterly meeting "to be reminded of their responsibility to try to increase their earnings", with sanctions applied for failing to attend. 

Ministers will no doubt argue that the plans are aimed at assisting the 1.4m people who are working part-time because they could not find a full-time job. The Policy Exchange report found that only 30 per cent of part-time workers who expressed a desire for full-time work were actively looking for it. Ministers will merely help push claimants in the right direction. But given the routine abuse of existing benefit sanctions by job centres, the danger is that this will become an underhand means of reducing the welfare bill.

And, rather like the suggestion that the minimum wage could be frozen or cut, the proposals sit uneasily with some of ministers' recent rhetoric. At last week's Resolution Foundation event on low pay, the skills minister Matthew Hancock (George Osborne's former chief of staff) argued that people were wrong to suggest that "working longer hours is the best way to boost earnings, and that getting people to work longer hours will help solve our economic problems." He observed: "Now I love my job, and work a humungous number of hours. And while many people in this room might do the same, let me let you into a secret: we’re unusual.

"Working more hours may be a necessary thing, but it’s not necessarily a good thing. It means less time to see the family; less time in the garden. Less free time. I’m in favour of more freedom. If the cardinal sin of modern economics is assuming that markets are always rational, then the second great failing is forgetting who we’re in it for."

If ministers are to avoid alienating the very "strivers" they purport to support, they should heed Hancock's words. 

The Department for Work and Pensions suggested that claimants could be required to seek "more work or better paid work" in return for receiving in-work benefits. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear