- The Observer
50 11.08.19 Comment & Analysis
One woman’s shocking
story sums up the
inhumanity of the
modern benefi ts regime
Last week, a woman’s
sanction letter from the Department
for Work and Pensions went viral on
Twitter. Danielle John, from Cardiff,
simply wrote : “Was told to put this
up on Twitter... this was because
I had a miscarriage and missed
appointment.”
These stories are fairly common
now. We are used to seeing reports
about people being sanctioned
because of attending a funeral/
cancer treatment/their child being
in hospital. But this one struck me
in particular because the language
was so coldly effi cient. Brief to the
point of cruelty. I didn’t know it was
possible, even in a business letter, to
say: “We’re about to ruin your whole
life” without a shred of empathy.
The letter, written in February
2017, starts in large font: “You’ll
lose some of your payment... This
reduction will last 229 days.” Two
hundred and 29 days for a single
missed appointment. That’s almost
The system lifted me from poverty.
Today, Danielle John is not so lucky
posted, she was suffering “recurrent
miscarriages from August 2015 until
October 2016” and that “she probably
would not have been able to work at
that time”.
Danielle says she had attempted
suicide by slashing her wrists a few
months before her sanction meeting
and they still sanctioned her. After
she was left with no money from
February to August in 2017, she
says the stress and debt sent her
back to drug use after being clean
for 15 years and she is still repaying
the debt she incurred during those
months.
Danielle John represents only
one of these ... I was going to say
cases but of course she is a person.
A human being who went through
an undeniably human experience
where she had no choice but to
depend on a system hardwired to
disregard humanity.
I was born into a single-parent
family in receipt of benefi ts for
my entire childhood. For much of
that time, we lived in temporary
homeless accommodation and
hostels. I left school at 15 with
Tourist
traps
Th e council in Rome has
threatened to impose a
€250 fi ne on tourists who
sit on the city’s famous
Spanish Steps. Venice,
meanwhile, has banned
large cruise ships from its
historic centre. What other
tourist attractions have
been declared off limits?
Bruges
In a bid to reduce visitor
numbers, the Belgian city
no longer promotes day
trips and has cut back the
number of cruise ships
able to dock at Zeebrugge.
Lascaux caves
Famed for their Palaeolithic
paintings, the caves in
southwestern France were
closed to the public in 1963
after heat caused the
paintings to deteriorate.
Stonehenge
Once visited by tourists
with chisels, the
5,000-year-old World
Heritage site has been
roped off since 1977.
Maya Bay
Made famous by the
2000 fi lm Th e Beach, the
beauty spot on Th ailand’s
Ko Phi Phi Leh island has
been closed indefi nitely
following mass tourism.
Kerry
Hudson
The language
of the sanction
letter was coldly
effi cient. Brief
to the point
of cruelty
Kerry Hudson outside the council
fl ats in Airdrie, Scotland, where
she lived as a child.
Photograph by Mark Vessey
32 weeks of punishment. Or, if you
prefer, February until August, with
no money at all. When you consider
that the harsher punishments for
domestic violence introduced in
2018 suggest a sentence towards
the upper limit of “a fi ne to up to
26 weeks’ custody” for common
assault, you have to wonder what
sadistic metric the DWP has used to
calculate sanctions.
The letter goes on to say that for
her missed appointment – I just
want to pause to remind you here
that Danielle John was having a
miscarriage at the time of missing
this appointment – she would be
sanctioned £10.40 for each of those
days. So, a total of £2,381.60.
For two years, I have been writing
solely about exclusion based on
my experiences of homelessness
and poverty and the consequences
of austerity in the deprived towns
I grew up in. I’ll admit to feeling
a little jaded. Like many, I’m tired
and, with the rest of the nation, I’m
sitting with my popcorn watching
the Brexit Shit Show in fascinated,
terrifi ed, distracted horror. As a
consequence, part self-protection,
part general fatigue, I’ve stopped
feeling as much as I should
about the many stories of human
hardship, pain and deprivation that
austerity has infl icted on so many of
the most vulnerable.
But when Danielle posted her
letter on Twitter, I took the time to
read a little further. Yes, as usual,
the letter was shocking, callous and
entirely devoid of compassion. But
then I discovered that Danielle had
not been able to address the missed
appointment – thus incurring 229
days of punishment – because,
according to a doctor’s letter she also
no qualifi cations and with severe
depression and anxiety as a result
of growing up in poverty. I’m
writing in this newspaper now
because, no matter where we lived
or how poor my education , I had
access to libraries. I was able to
get dependable benefi ts at 16 that
allowed me to access housing
benefi t and offered me the stability
to go to college, which was also free.
Back then, I was just about able to
afford university and once I was
there I could access mental health
treatment on the NHS and live in
council housing.
Decades into the
future, when we look back and
wonder how things have ended
up as they are, I hope we don’t
have to say it’s because we were
distracted or jaded. That we were
listening to certain narratives about
poor communities and forgetting
to really think about the human
repercussions of the frequent
austerity horror stories.
In 2019, food bank usage,
which ha s been directly linked by
academics to sanctions , continues to
rise and we still have the UN poverty
envoy publicly labelling universal
credit “universal discredit”.
Indeed, even Amber Rudd,
secretary of state for the DWP,
has backed down from three-year
sanctions , which were deployed
if claimants made three or more
serious breaches, realising that
forcing people to live below the
poverty line for three years is
unlikely to help raise them up or act
as any form of incentive. Though,
of course, if in the fi rst place she’d
asked anyone with any expertise in,
or experience of, poverty, any of us
could have told her that and saved a
lot of time, expense and hardship.
That we currently have a benefi ts
system that so arbitrarily brutalises
and fails our most vulnerable
should be a national scandal. But it
is the dismantling of all the other
essential , social mobility-enabling
services that makes this such a scary
story. Not just for today or next year
but for consequences that will be
seen in decades to come.
Kerry Hudson is the author of
Lowborn: Growing Up, Getting
Away and Returning to Britain’s
Poorest Towns
ПОДГОТОВИЛА
ГРУППА
"What's News"
VK.COM/WSNWS