Compassion is at dispiritingly low levels here. (Photo: Getty)
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People looking for work need support, not sanctions

The DWP's sanctions regime puts the most vulnerable at risk. The next government - of whatever hue - must do better.

Imagine getting to work and being told by your boss that you’ve been sanctioned - he’s not going to pay you for the next four weeks because you went to hospital and missed your meeting. He also sanctioned you last year after you refused to take a job doing night shifts because you couldn’t find anyone to look after your daughter. If you know to ask, he’ll start giving you ‘hardship’ payments in two weeks, which are about half your pay. But until then you and your daughter will get nothing.

Shocking, isn’t it? Surely that could never happen today? While perhaps the exception, this does happen and these examples are real - the only difference here is that the ‘boss’ is actually a Jobcentre advisor, there to help people find work. For many unemployed people, desperate to find a job, the fear of their Jobseeker’s Allowance (JSA) being sanctioned is their daily life.

Today the Work and Pensions Committee released their report into benefit sanctions, calling for a 'full independent review’. The committee's chair, Anne Begg stated that the system should 'avoid causing severe financial hardship', but that it 'does not always achieve this'.

If you or I were on JSA and unfairly sanctioned, we'd simply have to wait and hope that the sanction eventually got removed on appeal, giving back our £72.40 per week. If we had to take out a payday loan to pay for essentials like children's clothes, we'd be saddled with the interest. Perhaps we wouldn't be able to afford to top up the electricity meter to heat our homes. We'd go cold, be in debt and have to rely on food banks to feed our families. This isn't 'what if' - it's real life for many. 

'It is not reasonable to expect people to live without and source of income for 2 weeks', Begg stated. Unfortunately, this is simply the reality for many of the three million people who claimed JSA in 2013-14. Over half a million people were sanctioned during that time – 18% of people claiming. 35,170 were sanctioned three times. In 2008-9, just 10% of claimants were sanctioned.

"The system must also be capable of identifying and protecting vulnerable people, including those with mental health problems and learning disabilities”, Begg said. For the system to truly protect vulnerable people, it must be redesigned, and sanctions must be a genuine last resort. Just as important is ensuring that staff understand how to support people.

Nothing shows this need better than the unbelievable - yet true - story of a man who was on JSA, wanted a job, and went to the Jobcentre for help. He couldn’t use a computer because of his learning disability, which he told his advisor. He applied for jobs by post and showed his advisor the list of jobs he'd applied for. His advisor sanctioned him because he hadn't applied for the jobs on a computer. 

The advisor didn't understand his needs or how to support him, instead falling back on all too familiar sanctions. A charity advisor helped him have this sanction removed and secured fairer goals, including applying for some jobs on paper and others on a computer.  He still gets questioned as to why he hasn’t applied for more jobs on a computer and has to explain, time and again, that he can only use a computer when the charity supports him. The Jobcentre won't provide this support.

Living on £72.40 per week JSA (or just £57.35 if you're under 25) is difficult enough. Forcing people to survive with no money for two weeks and then on £43.44 per week hardship payments, sometimes for up to three years, is a symptom of a broken system that needs to be redesigned. The first step is Begg's full independent review. I hope that the next government commits to it. 

With the rhetoric that constantly gets thrown around - skivers vs strivers springs to mind - it's easy to lose sight of the fact that most people just want support to get a job. Put simply, people looking for work need support, not sanctions. 

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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