The next stage of the bedroom tax: families threatened with eviction

The possible damning effects of the bedroom tax are now becoming reality, and as Frances Ryan finds, people are struggling with arrears and trying desperately to hold off eviction.

Mobility bars run through Stuart Hughes’s three-bed home. There’s a wet room too and an added downstairs toilet, each put there by his local council and social services as his osteo arthritis has worsened. Stuart, 53, has been in this house for sixteen years. There’s enough room for his two teenage sons; the eldest, 17, who lives here full time and his youngest, 14, who stays when Stuart’s ex-wife, who also has severe arthritis, doesn’t feel up to it. Both children are disabled themselves; the eldest has metal pins in both hips and both boys have mild to high functioning autism.

These details, however, are deemed as irrelevances under the "bedroom tax" policy and Stuart (left) and the children – judged as "under-occupying" – are now losing £10 a week. Living on an income that’s both fixed and low due to his disability leaving him unable to work, it’s obvious this is money Stuart doesn’t have. He’s fallen into arrears and the family have been given warning of eviction.

Wrexham council have now sent three letters informing Stuart of their intention to seek possession of his home. The first was sent only three weeks after the tax began – when Stuart owed just £39.80. Two more followed – the wording remaining the same and the figure owed increasing.   

“I was devastated [when I received the letters],” Stuart tells me. “I already had a lot of stress in my life through everyday living with my health problems and four years of fighting to get my benefits… I just managed to get on top of my debts after all that and then to have the threat of losing my home…”

There was a lot of discussion pre-April about the possible damning effects of the "bedroom tax"; commenters lamenting the policy and the Department for Works and Pensions defending it. We’re now at the stage where those effects are becoming reality and, for people like Stuart and his children, this means debt and eviction threats.

Stuart shows me the letters; each including the words “warning of notice seeking possession” and “legal proceedings”. Both phrases are printed in bold black capitals, presumably in case the recipients – statistically the most vulnerable members of society – needed the warnings written in the most alarming, stressful ways possible.

These developments are particularly disturbing for people like Stuart – already dealing with ill health and having not only a natural attachment but fundamental reliance on his home. It’s also particularly galling for anyone trying to make sense of the point of the policy. The bedroom tax could be said to have two purposes: freeing up supposedly under-used social housing and, as a bonus, making savings for cash-strapped councils. As in thousands of cases, here Stuart is being penalised for not using rooms that he is in fact using. Meanwhile, public money has been spent on adapting a home that a disabled person is now being pushed to leave – presumably only to pay for another to be adapted.

“[There] are hardly any smaller properties available,” Stuart tells me. “I couldn’t afford to move anyway,” he adds. 

Illness, disability, poverty get in the way of life, and indeed, policies. When the policy is adopted regardless, the consequences – moral and practical – are predictably damaging.

Report after report is starting to come in of councils around the country announcing vast numbers unable to pay their rent, from Cambridge to Manchester, from Leeds to East Ayrshire. In the latter case, 75 per cent of tenants are now in arrears.

In order to hold off being evicted, Stuart was forced to borrow money from his ex-wife; herself struggling. As Stuart’s more than aware, it is very much a matter of holding off the threat of eviction rather than stopping it. After making the payment he was immediately back in arrears as the next instalment was due. He now has to find money to make up each week’s extra rent and pay back the money he borrowed to pay last month’s.

Nothing changes. The bedroom tax will come in every week and Stuart will still be disabled and unable to pay.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do in the winter,” Stuart says. “I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to put the heating on.”

He’s going to hospital for an operation this week; the first of his knee replacements. He doesn’t know if another eviction letter will be waiting for him when he gets home.

Certainly, Wrexham council have been enthusiastic in their implementation of the bedroom tax but they’re doing no more than what the Government has asked. This was always a policy that was going to hit the poor and disabled hardest. It would be disingenuous for anyone to start acting surprised now. The unknown territory is where this is heading. We’ve had stage one: Government implements the charges. We’re now entering stage two: the threats of eviction when people are unable to pay. The question is what happens during the third stage, when arrears get bigger and bigger but nothing can be done.

Smaller properties, ones with or without adaptations, are not going to magically appear. People, stretching benefits and low wages to pay for food let alone extra rent, are not going to suddenly be able to pay.

It remains to be seen if and when eviction letters will turn into evictions – and which council will decide it wants to be the first to put a family like Stuart’s on the street. 

The supply of suitable housing for those deemed to be "under-occupying" their current home is scarce. 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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Iain Duncan Smith says what most Brexiters think: economic harm is a price worth paying

The former cabinet minister demonstrated rare candour by dismissing the "risks" of leaving the EU.

Most economists differ only on whether the consequences of Brexit would be terrible or merely bad. For the Leave campaign this presents a problem. Every referendum and general election in recent times has been won by the side most trusted to protect economic growth (a status Remain currently enjoys).

Understandably, then, the Brexiters have either dismissed the forecasters as wrong or impugned their integrity. On Tuesday it was the turn of the Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS), one of the most revered bodies in Westminster. In response to its warning that Brexit would mean a further two years of austerity (with the hit to GDP wiping out George Osborne's forecast surplus), the Leave campaign derided it as a "paid-up propaganda arm of the European commission" (the IFS has received £5.6m from Brussels since 2009). 

The suggestion that the organisation is corrupt rightly provoked outrage. "The IFS - for whom I used to work - is not a paid up propaganda arm of the EU. I hope that clears that up," tweeted Brexit-supporting economist Andrew Lilico. "Over-simplified messaging, fear-mongering & controversialism are hard-minded campaigning. Accusing folk of corruption & ill intent isn't." The Remain campaign was swift to compile an array of past quotes from EU opponents hailing the IFS. 

But this contretemps distracted from the larger argument. Rather than contesting the claim that Brexit would harm the economy, the Leave campaign increasingly seeks to change the subject: to immigration (which it has vowed to reduce) or the NHS (which it has pledged to spend more on). But at an event last night, Iain Duncan Smith demonstrated rare candour. The former work and pensions secretary, who resigned from the cabinet in protest at welfare cuts, all but conceded that further austerity was a price worth paying for Brexit. 

"Of course there's going to be risks if you leave. There's risks if you get up in the morning ...There are risks in everything you do in life," he said when questioned on the subject. "I would rather have those risks that we are likely to face, headed off by a government elected by the British people [and] governing for the British people, than having a government that is one of 27 others where the decisions you want to take - that you believe are best for the United Kingdom - cannot be taken because the others don't agree with you."

For Duncan Smith, another recession is of nothing compared to the prize of freedom from the Brussels yoke. Voters still reeling from the longest fall in living standards in recent history (and who lack a safe parliamentary seat) may disagree. But Duncan Smith has offered an insight into the mindset of a true ideologue. Remain will hope that many more emulate his honesty. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.