A New Social Narrative

Amid a mass of measures by which a government’s performance can be evaluated – unemployment statistics, credit ratings, borrowing figures – one test in particular stands out. English philosopher T.H. Green proposed that for each government action, one should ask: “Does it liberate individuals by increasing their self-reliance or their ability to add to human progress?”

The coalition government is fixated on self-reliance, and individual personal responsibility is supposed to be the lifeblood of conservatism. References to people “who do the right thing” (what a vague description!) pepper the prime minister’s speeches. The best example of putting this principle into practice is undoubtedly the benefits system, specifically disability benefits. Within months of coming to power, the coalition outlined £18bn worth of welfare cuts. At the time of writing this, calls to cut another £10bn are getting louder. Witnessing the government undertake its welfare reform agenda has felt akin to seeing youths rob and strip an elderly man, who was once respected by his contemporaries but is now chastised and marginalised by his community. We watch from a distance and feel powerless to stop it.

Few would doubt that the coalition’s rapid unravelling of the welfare safety net will force us to be more self-reliant. But it is the second part of Green’s test, whether government action increases a person’s ability to add to human progress, that is most important. And it is in this respect that, for disabled people across the country, the government is set to fail spectacularly.

It’s only when we begin to look more closely at the government’s welfare reform agenda that its callousness is fully revealed. The coalition is set to cut benefits for disabled children, meaning that more than 100,000 of them will lose up to £27 a week. It distracted attention from other reforms by proposing to cut a benefit that helps care home residents get out in their community. Certainly a tactical device, this plan was later dropped but its very suggestion is indicative. Next year, support provided to disabled people with complex needs and no adult to care for them will no longer exist. Emergency payments for families in dire crisis, including disabled people and women fleeing domestic violence, could be replaced with supermarket store cards – vouchers for the destitute. Plans to increase self-reliance develop a different flavour when the affected person is a mother with children in tow, escaping a violent partner.

A recent report by Scope, a disability charity, and the thinktank Demos reveals the profound impact that the cuts have on disabled people. For the last two years they have examined the plight of six disabled families as the cuts have come into effect, and they have documented the families’ declining mental health, increased fear and anxiety, financial instability and a desperate struggle to make ends meet. One elderly couple was left without money to fix their broken windows for almost a year, using towels to keep out the cold and rain. It is stories like these that show with startling clarity the true human cost of austerity.

The argument put forth by the advocates of benefits cuts is solid: that it is better to work than to languish on benefits. Nobody wants to squander his or her potential. But the mainstream narrative frequently fails to show the whole picture.

First, it is often assumed that benefit recipients make the choice not to work. “For choice to be real”, authors Richard Reeves and Phil Collins state in the book “The Liberal Republic”, “there has to be a range of options.” It would be naïve to deny that some people genuinely choose not to work, but there are many disabled people who desperately want a job but are unable to secure and maintain employment.

The second assumption is that those who are less able to work are in a disadvantaged situation because of the limitations imposed by their body and mind. To the public this may seem entirely reasonable, but it overlooks the crucial interaction between impairment and society. The ‘social model’ of disability sets out how practical and environmental barriers render people with impairments ‘disabled’. Many disabled people find ways to manage their condition, but still face real social barriers – inaccessible transport, unsuitable housing, social isolation, discrimination – that prevent them from working and leading lives they value.

Finally, these problems are compounded by the lack of jobs in the midst of a double-dip recession. There are over 2.5 million people unemployed. It is against this hostile, competitive backdrop that the government recently confirmed the closure of 27 Remploy factories that employ disabled workers. There are good arguments for ending sheltered working, but it is not conducive to the ‘mainstreaming’ of disability that our society badly needs. The choice of timing is poor, and charities have expressed real concerns about the level of support that former workers will receive. The government’s woeful lack of tact was illustrated by the contemptuous comments of the Secretary of State for Work and Pensions, Iain Duncan Smith, who remarked that Remploy staff, who provide equipment to the police and the armed forces, were “not doing any work…just making cups of coffee.”

Towering above all this, however, is an issue vastly more important than any benefit or work programme: Our social narrative is becoming increasingly venomous. Much of the tone is set by the media, sections of which were lambasted by a cross-party Select Committee for the “irresponsible” use of pejorative language like ‘work-shy’ and ‘scrounger’. Major disability charities warn that the government’s focus on alleged fraud to justify welfare cuts has caused an increase in abuse directed at disabled people, when the actual fraud rate for Disability Living Allowance is 0.5%. Many disabled people have said they are taunted in the street about ‘faking it’, and are concerned that this Salem-like climate of suspicion might result in violence. A recent academic study of disabled children found that 20% of them had been attacked physically or sexually, abused emotionally or neglected. Experts have warned that disability hate crime remains under-reported and is often ignored by police. This is not the atmosphere in which we can prevent another tragic story like Fiona Pilkington, who, after years of abuse from local youths, killed herself and her disabled daughter.

There is a desperate need for a new narrative in our society. We need a serious and in-depth discussion about the role of the state in supporting disabled people to become self-reliant and to exercise their capabilities to lead lives that they value and add to human progress. Politicians of all stripes have failed to stem the toxic tide that now floods our social landscape. Further retrenchment of the state will only raise the water level. Distinguished disability campaigner Jenny Morris was right when she said that we need a values system which embraces diversity, in which disabled people are treated as belonging and contributing to their communities. Whether any politicians and parties will be brave enough to stand up and say this remains to be seen. Even with further cuts still to come, we must remain hopeful. As the deafblind radical Helen Keller once said, “Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope or confidence.”

Eugene Grant works in the third sector as a public policy advisor on poverty and welfare, and comments regularly on disability and issues of social policy. He blogs at Dead Letter Drop and tweets from @eugene_grant