On social media, there is a trend known as “performative kindness”. Influencers will share a seemingly selfless act of compassion – say, donating a meal to a homeless person – which, in reality, has been filmed for “likes”. The point is not so much the act of kindness itself, but that they are seen to be doing it.
The Conservative party is much the same, albeit in reverse. With a general election around the corner and the government trailing in the polls, increasingly, the purpose of any policy announcement is not that it will have any real benefit for the country but that it is cruel to the right people.
I found myself reminded of this during the autumn statement, in which Jeremy Hunt, the chancellor, launched one of the biggest crackdowns on benefit claimants in a decade. Hundreds of thousands of disabled people were told to look for work that they can do from home or face having their benefits cut by £4,680 a year. The plan – which will apply to new claimants from 2025 – is focused largely on people with mobility and mental health conditions who struggle to leave the house. It is reminiscent of the 2010 era in which eligibility for out-of-work sickness benefits was punitively tightened, though these go further: over time, the latest changes to “fit for work” tests will more than halve the number of new claimants deemed unable to work.
At the same time, ministers plan to expand the current sanction scheme for jobseekers: if people “refuse” to engage with their jobcentre or take work offered to them, they will have their claims closed entirely or be inducted in mandatory “work experience”. This would mean people not only losing all their benefits but other state services where eligibility is linked to them – including free prescriptions, bus passes and help with energy bills.
In the middle of a cost of living crisis, there are always ways to make the lives of the poorest and disabled harder.
With soaring numbers of “economically inactive” citizens – a record 2.6 million because of long-term ill health – the government has justified this as not only a necessity for the labour market but an act of “fairness”.
Just look at the language ministers are using. Laura Trott, chief secretary to the Treasury, says there is a “duty” on disabled people to work if they can. Mel Stride, the work and pensions secretary, meanwhile, is out to tackle the unemployed who are “taking taxpayers for a ride”. In contrast, there has been radio silence over the NHS waiting times that are a key reason many are unable to work. Instead of providing much-needed funding for public services, Hunt has opted for tax giveaways to the wealthy.
The drive to tackle “welfare spending” is less about solving an unemployment problem or even making vast savings and more a wink to voters: the Conservatives are on the side of the “hard-working” middle classes, not the scrounging benefits claimants stealing their taxes. Meanwhile, ministers can frame Labour as being a “soft touch” – or as Hunt cynically put it, a choice between making the sick work or more immigration.
This rhetoric is not an accident, of course. It is designed to cause resentment, to give the incendiary impression that hordes of benefits claimants are buying widescreen TVs and nightly takeaways while already squeezed taxpayers toil away to pay for it. In reality, the basic social security rate (now universal credit) is the lowest in real terms for 40 years, while our unemployment pay is the the stingiest in western Europe. This meagre support is worth even less now that food prices are up by 30% over the last two years and energy prices are two-thirds higher. Forget a bloated safety net that needs to be reined in. Many relying on social security can’t afford soap.
Neither measure will do much to actually get people back into the workplace. The government’s own research shows benefit sanctions don’t help people into work – in fact, it often takes them longer to find a job while pushing them to food banks, mental health crises and even survival crime.
At the same time, there is no evidence to support the claim that disabled people can easily work from home. Research by the charity Mind shows four in five recruiters say there has actually been a drop in home-based jobs since the pandemic. Besides, about one in three disabled people don’t have basic computer literacy, while many are underrepresented in well-paid or professional roles that can be done remotely. As a result, the Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR) estimates the changes could see as few as 10,000 disabled people – 2.7% of those affected – find a job.
Without a genuine opportunity for marginalised people to get into work, these proposals are nothing more than a raid on the income of those who already have the least, while being demonised by people who have the most.
It is nearly a decade since former prime minister David Cameron launched tens of billions of pounds of cuts to the benefits system, which triggered an increase in hate crime towards disabled people, rising destitution and even deaths of claimants. That he is now back in government, unaccountable and unremorseful, as this new wave of austerity crashes down is a symbol not only of the cyclical nature of British politics but the ease with which the suffering of people on benefits is accepted.
Social security cuts are not abstract, a diverting Westminster drama or cheap means to win votes. They are choices that affect real people – people who are often already in crisis. Less than a week ago, a coroner warned ministers about the mental health impact of the benefits system after a man applying for universal credit took his own life. The chancellor could have listened and announced plans that would actually help people into work while protecting those who can’t: from access to NHS treatment; affordable childcare; funding for Access to Work; secure housing; to social care provision. Instead, he has chosen to withhold benefit claimants’ medicine.
Turn to the camera. Point at the target. If this is performative cruelty, the nation is watching.
Frances Ryan is a Guardian columnist and author of Crippled: Austerity and the Demonisation of Disabled People
