Iain Duncan Smith has had to defend the progress of Universal Credit. Photo: Getty
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That families can only just claim Universal Credit shows how disastrous it has been

The government’s reformed benefit programme is being rolled out to parents in the northwest today, revealing its slow progress.

Iain Duncan Smith, the Work and Pensions Secretary, has extended his “revolutionary” reformed welfare programme to some families in Britain for the first time today. The fact that parents, and initially just in parts of the northwest, are only just able to claim Universal Credit shows how much of a disaster the scheme’s implementation has been.

The term "Universal Credit" has quickly become a byword for government incompetence, IT failure, missed deadlines, and over-promising ministers, as it has encountered obstacle after obstacle, and been severely delayed as a result.

Although the problems with the scheme are well-known now, it is worth pointing out that this intended “revolution” in welfare distribution has been watered down to a very slow evolution. As the BBC reports, tens of millions of pounds had to be written off due to technical problems with the IT programme and also, according to reports, only 20,000 people are claiming it, rather than the 1m envisaged for this time by the DWP. Though Duncan Smith on the BBC’s Today programme this morning insisted that the number of people claiming is actually 40,000, this is still significantly lower than what was once the target.

The people already enrolled on the Universal Credit scheme so far have been single people and couples with no housing costs or family, ie. the simplest demographic to which to provide welfare, due to it being the least complicated in terms of the benefits it claims. Universal Credit prides itself on “simplifying” welfare provision by combining six existing benefits into one, so the focus so far on the least complicated claimants shows it is only very tentatively being rolled out.

On Today, Duncan Smith refused to accept that his scheme had so far only been targeting the “low-hanging fruit” of benefits claimants, saying, “we have deliberately set out to roll it out so each individual bit is tested… we’re now doing families. This is being deliberately done like this.

“It’s about making sure people can cope as they go into work, they can stay in work… If we do it carefully, and land it safely, they’re far better off.”

When asked about the ultimate deadline, due to the targets consistently having been revised down over the years, he said “it starts rolling out nationally from next year” and that rather than the original deadline of the bulk of people being on it by “approximately the end of 2017”, “we should have everybody on it by 2019”. He admitted that the initial deadline had been “artificial in the first place”.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.

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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war