Does the Department for Work and Pensions have a soul?

Former home secretary Suella Braverman desperately tried to deflect attention from a flailing prime minister using tofu-based insults. Then she left office. The new chancellor, Jeremy Hunt, has quietly assumed full power. He’s taking the decisions, ergo he governs our country.

Hunt has reversed almost all the promises Truss made to her party – apart from one. So far, he has refused to say anything in response to the call for benefits to be uprated in line with inflation, to protect the poorest families from extreme poverty and even destitution this winter.

There is, rightly, a moral uprising against the idea of leaving benefit claimants to languish on a less than subsistence income as food and energy costs rise. This, however, is not the only challenge that they face. The system claimants are forced to use is still broken.

Despite high-profile cases of neglect, ill health and suicide caused by delays and poor decision-making by case handlers, the Department for Work and Pensions continues to operate in a way that causes distress and harm to the vulnerable people who need its services.

Take this exchange, shared on Twitter by MSP Karen Adam, about a call she made to the service on behalf of a family member who cannot use a telephone independently and who claims a personal independence payment (PIP) to help meet the costs of their additional needs. Adam reported the alleged conversation that ensued:

“DWP: Can they clear themselves and their home, and do they have a pet?

Me: No they can’t, they get help to do that.

DWP: Well just so you know that won’t count towards being awarded benefits money.

Me: Okay that’s weird

DWP: No it’s not weird

Me: Well I think it is (weird that she asked then said it didn’t count, and also yes weird that it wouldn’t)

DWP: It isn’t weird because some people can’t clean up after themselves because they have been brought up like that in a house where there were benefits and they won’t do it. If you want to argue questions you will extend the time and take up somebody else’s assessment time.”

The final statement is shocking. It’s painful. But is it surprising? Of course not, because it reflects misplaced attitudes held right across the country, fostered by 12 years of Conservative government. It’s why there’s even a discussion around holding benefits down despite inflation being held.

People do not understand how the benefits system works, or accept that every claimant truly needs each penny they are awarded – often far more, because the system has become punitive and frightening rather than providing safety and reassurance. We no longer call it “social security”, we call it “benefit payments”; as if requiring support to meet the costs of a lifelong disability or to feed your children (because full-time work pays a less than subsistence wage) is some kind of tantalising bonus.

Training and professional development at work should be counteracting these negative stereotypes. No citizen should ever be abused by coming across such discriminatory attitudes in the simple course of claiming the support they are rightly entitled to. But how much time is there for training like this when the department is lurching from one political crisis to the next – and forced to set up whole divisions on a shoestring?

To keep up to speed with all the latest opinions and comment sign up to our free weekly Voices Dispatches newsletter by clicking here

As Public Technology magazine recently reported, the DWP’s rapid recruitment drive during the pandemic – when millions more people suddenly needed to access unemployment support – meant that 13,000 new “work coaches” were hired without ever being met in person. In a dystopian reverse of the film Up In The Air, candidates were asked a question via recorded message, given one minute’s thinking time, then had three minutes to record a video response. The videos were viewed by hiring managers and decisions were made, but at what cost?

It should be part of the purpose and soul of the DWP not just to offer financial support, and to do that in a straightforward way minimising bureaucracy, but to be encouraging and gentle in supporting people through troubling times. The coldness of this recruitment process is a symptom not only of cost-cutting and efficiency, but the chill that runs through the heart of the system.

For people who claim benefits, the daily experience of dealing with the DWP and its systems is just as harmful as the policy debate about how much they should receive. There are now more than 14 million people living in poverty in the UK. They deserve better at every level of government and its operations, from the secretary of state to the DWP call handler.