What today's introduction of Employment Tribunal Fees really means

As of this morning, Employment Tribunals - set up to provide a proper, impartial forum for the resolution of disputes between employees and employers - are no longer free to access.

The Government's legal aid cuts may have attracted their fair share of criticism, but another reform with potentially huge implications for access to justice quietly kicks in today.

As of this morning, Employment Tribunals - set up to provide a proper, impartial forum for the resolution of disputes between employees and employers - are no longer free to access. If you're unfairly sacked, discriminated against or don't receive wages owed from now on, you'll need to pay an upfront cost or bite your lip.

The Ministry of Justice claims that the £84m (or £74m, depending on which particular Government document you happen to be looking at) cost of running the Employment Tribunals Service is too high. They say it's unfair for taxpayers to foot the bill for workers who choose to "escalate workplace disputes to a tribunal" and argue that "drawn out disputes" can "emotionally damage workers and financially damage businesses".

What this translates to is a fees system compelling claimants (almost always employees or ex-employees) to pay £160 just to begin the process of challenging employers over relatively simple matters like non-payment of wages or statutory redundancy pay.

Should they then want to take the case to a full hearing, they'll need a further £230. If that seems onerous, spare a thought for those challenging unfair dismissal, sexual or racial discrimination in the workplace, or sackings arising from whistle-blowing, who will now have to cough up £250 upfront, with a further £950 due for a day at tribunal.

There's no guarantee either that a claimant will get their fees back, even if they win their case. While the new rules allow tribunals to impose a costs order against a losing party, this is entirely at a judge's discretion, so even if an employee proves that they were, for example, the victim of sexual harassment at work, a good chunk of their compensation awarded could well be swallowed up by fees.

Although the Government's own impact assesment freely concedes that it "cannot rule out... fees may have the effect of deterring some claimants from bringing a claim", it insists that the policy is not designed to reduce claims, only to transfer some of the cost from taxpayers. Responding to criticism that fees might put poor people off seeking redress, the MoJ points to the Civil Fee Remission scheme, whereby low-earners and those in receipt of state benefits such as Jobseekers Allowance can obtain a full or partial waiver of fees for tribunal proceedings.

Yet the MoJ is already planning major reforms to Civil Fee Remission and, while it has yet to respond to the four-week consultation it issued in the spring, proposals already floated include a tougher means test, a reduction in the number of benefits accepted as proof of entitlement to fee remission in line with the Universal Credit reforms and a 66 per cent reduction in the time limit for retrospective remission claims, from six to two months.

While it won't be clear for some months what the what the final reformed remissions system will look like, someone who qualifies for free access to an Employment Tribunal today might not necessarily make the grade come the autumn.

It's easy to raise the spectre of feckless employees cashing in on an overly-generous system. Indeed, the controversial Beecroft report commissioned by the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills and its rabidly "socialist"  Secretary of State Vince Cable, warned of sacked workers with "time on their hands", who view a free employment tribunal "as a no cost option".

Beecroft's report didn't trouble itself with figures - he famously put the cost of red tape to business at a distinctly unscientific "Who knows?" - but here are a few to consider. Since hitting a peak of 236,100 in the wake of financial crash - when presumably there was a sudden spike in chancers with "time on their hands" - the number of claims accepted for consideration by employment tribunals has fallen by a fifth.

Only eight per cent of unfair dismissal claims are successful at hearing, while there was a whopping, er, zero per cent success rate for equal pay claims in 2011-12. Nobody wants British companies to be bogged down with unnecessary costs at a time of economic stagnation, but if this is a system stacked against employers, it's doing a pretty good job of pretending otherwise.

Even the Federation of Small Business, which backs the principle of claimants bearing some of the cost for employment claims, has said it believes that the fee levels introduced today may be too high, while prominent employment lawyers argue that the reforms could actually lead to more litigation because of disputes over fee payment deadlines. 

Meanwhile, the Institute of Employment Rights think tank warns that, when combined with other changes like the legal aid reforms, the doubling of the qualifying period for unfair dismissal to two years, the halving of consultation periods for collective redundancies, fees will add to a climate "in which it is extremely difficult for workers to receive compensation and support if they are treated unfairly by their employer." If you're lucky enough to be in work at the moment, that should worry you.

Judges make their way to the Palace of Westminster. Photo: Getty

Matt Foster is deputy editor of Civil Service World and a former assistant news editor at PoliticsHome.

Gage Skidmore via Creative Commons
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Donald Trump brings home his dark vision of America at the Republican convention

The Presidential nominee pledged: "Safety must be restored."

Donald Trump brought home the Republican convention Thursday night with a dark vision of contemporary America – a darkness he claimed only his leadership could lift. It was a lengthy, tightly-scripted speech framed around polarities – insiders and outsiders, criminals and victims, the United States and the rest of the world – and infused with righteous anger. And yet against the darkness, he offered not lightness but “greatness” – a bombastic, personalistic vision of how through sheer force of will he could right the American ship before it plunged irretrievably into the depths. “I alone can solve,” he famously tweeted earlier in the campaign. This was the 80-minute version.

Any presidential challenger, of course, has to lay out a set of problems they believe need fixing and a case for why their leadership might make a difference. It was the breathtaking scale and intensity of Trump’s diagnosis, and the lack of optimistic alternative to counterbalance it, that was notable compared to other acceptance speeches. He portrayed the United States as a country riddled with crime and corruption, a “rigged system” in which politicians like Hillary Clinton can evade justice, while police officers trying to protect its citizens become targets; a fearful country, its economy sluggish, its infrastructure crumbling, its security an illusion, and its international stature in freefall

For a candidate who has mocked the soaring rhetoric of President Obama (the “hopey-changey stuff,” as Sarah Palin once called it), it was perhaps not surprising that Trump’s speech would be short on uplift. It was at least more disciplined than his other campaign speeches, if in keeping with their tone and content – the much-maligned teleprompter rolling a script to which he largely stuck. (“He sounds presidential,” a lady behind me remarked, though his press conference Friday morning marked a reversion to free-wheeling form).

It was short on substance too, though acceptance speeches aren’t designed to be policy laundry lists like a State of the Union. Still, there were few specifics, beyond a pledge to revise tax laws which inhibit religious groups from political advocacy, and a newfound concern with student loans. It was daughter Ivanka’s speech that had the greater substantive heft, promising her father would push for new labour laws to help working mothers, and for affordable childcare in the US. Neither are traditional Republican positions, but the crowd seemed on board for anything Trump might offer.

He even had them cheering for LGBTQ rights, after recalling the tragedy in Florida last month, and the need to protect gay Americans from a “hateful foreign ideology” in radical Islam. “It is so nice as a Republican to hear you cheering for what I just said,” he commended the delegates in an unscripted moment. But whether they had really embraced this unexpected message – or if it was the anti-terror chaser that really got them on their feet – remains to be seen. In either case, it was a rare grace note in an otherwise bruising speech.

Presenting himself repeatedly as the candidate of “law and order,” Trump evoked Richard Nixon’s 1968 presidential campaign. At a time when American cities were erupting in race riots and protests over the Vietnam War, Nixon had pitched himself as the face of stability and security. Likewise Trump has reacted to the simmering racial tensions and terrorist attacks this summer with a hard-line stance on “lawlessness.” “Safety must be restored,” Trump said, in one of the eerier lines he delivered. Yet in his convention speech, Nixon had balanced his tough talk with a positive message – speaking of love, courage, and lighting a “lamp of hope” in partnership with the American people. 

Trump channeled another president in his speech, too, when he promised to give voice to “the forgotten men and women of our country” – drawing on the language of Franklin Roosevelt. Roosevelt had promised to aid “the forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid” during the 1932 campaign. But Roosevelt’s solution to the forgotten man’s distress was economic internationalism – tearing down tariff walls and trading freely with the world – which the Republican Party then opposed. Trump’s solution is the protectionist policies Roosevelt had railed against.

Trump’s economic and security philosophy is encapsulated in another, more notorious phrase associated with that era: “America First.” A rallying cry for isolationists seeking to avoid US entanglement in World War II, it acquired an anti-Semitic taint. But Trump has employed it nonetheless, capturing as it does his core argument that America must do more to protect its own citizens against threats from within and without – from illegal immigrants, from radicalized Islamic terrorists, from the downsides of free international trade. Little wonder that former George W.

Bush staffer Nicolle Wallace announced that the Republican party she knew “died in this room tonight.” In embracing elements of isolationism, protectionism, and nativism, however, it is perhaps truer to say that Trump’s Republican party reverted to an earlier form.

Often disconcerting, at times mesmerizing, the question remains how effective this speech will be. The delegates responded enthusiastically to Trump’s fierce rhetoric, but many prominent Republicans had stayed away from the convention altogether. Combined with Senator Ted Cruz’s non-endorsement, Trump goes into the general election campaign without a fully united party behind him. For both partisans and the public, Trump’s speech offered a cast of villains to rally against, but no positive, unifying vision to rally behind – beyond the much-touted yet elusive “greatness,” of course. In a typical election year, that would seem a critical flaw in a campaign – but Trump loves to confound the naysayers. As his convention speech showed, he thinks the formula that got him this far - showcasing his fame and fanning Americans’ fears – can land him in the White House.