Employment Therapy

In the afternoon, I attend a meeting of a local community group, which aims to help the disadvantaged through 'dance, theatre and music.' When I arrive at the venue, a friendly receptionist shows me to a room where about 16 people are sitting in a circle, in front of a blackboard on which is written 'Therapy Group.' Seeing this, I think for one awful moment that we will all have to sit and talk about our emotions, but luckily I am only required to talk about the benefits of going into employment. I am introduced by a woman with a very posh voice, who proceeds to talk down to all of us (I don't know if the group members feel patronised, but I certainly do) and who actually says: 'Isn't it nice for us to have Annette here?'

Trying not to laugh, I give my usual talk about what the job centre can do to help as many as possible to obtain employment, and then invite questions. I am, as always, beseiged by questions about individual benefit problems. One man insists that the job centre owes him some money from six years ago, and actually pulls from his pocket records of every single payment he has ever had. Gasping, I point out that the only way I can answer these queries is for the person to come into the job centre, so I can look up their records on the computer. I advise him when to come into the office (on a day that I won't be there, I'm determined not to get stuck with that one) and pretend not to hear when he starts complaining about how the CAB haven't helped him at all, and neither have the law centre, and he's tried several times to see his MP, but she never seems to be available, (very sensible of her).

The next few questions are of the 'why does my friend/brother/neighbour get more benefit money than I do?' variety, so I refer them to the previous answer. Then someone wants to know if you can still get housing benefit when you are in full time employment, and on being informed that you can if you are earning a low wage, asks me if I can get him a job as a sound engineer. I inform him that a great many young people wish to work in that field, and invite him to tell the group how he thinks he would go about it, and what qualifications he would need. He looks at me with the gormless open-mouthed stare, he hasn't thought about it at all, he just likes the sound of the job. Did he get no careers advice at school, I ask him? This seems to annoy him, and he gets up and walks out, slamming the door loudly. The posh-voiced woman apologises to me, saying that Duwayne (at least I think that's the name although I might have got it wrong) has always been difficult.

What is wrong with Duwayne and a great many more is that they expect to be spoon fed. This is partly the fault of the benefit system, and the industry that has grown up around it, because we do spoon feed people, and have done for a long time. Why would anyone bother to do anything for themselves when they can sit back and have it done for them? What is needed is a complete overhaul of the benefit system, so that there would not be a choice between work and claiming, and no one would be in the ridiculous situation where they would be better off if they did not work. Frank Field MP was given this job, and was told to 'think the unthinkable,' and when he did, he was sacked.

The Processing Centre

I visit one of our processing centres this morning, as I need to brush up on certain aspects of claim processing. (I haven't worked on processing for a long time.)

When someone makes a claim for benefit, they need to dial the contact centre on a freephone number. That is, it is free from a landline, but if you dial from a mobile, there may be a charge. This is an 'inbound call.' The operator determines which benefit you want to claim, tells you what documents you need to make the claim, and then sets a time to call you back, an 'outbound call.' When they call you back, (if they ever do), the claim is made, with the operator asking the questions on the claim form and entering your answers directly into the computer.

The full claim form or BID (benefit input document) is then sent through to the processing centre. This is supposed to occur on our computers as the result of an electronic 'push.' About half our 'pushes' fail, so the BID is sent to processing by courier. (I think the computer programming was done by EDS).

After the claim is made, an appointment is made for the customer by the contact centre at their nearest job centre, to which they are told to take their documentation to be checked by us. How long does it take to process a claim? At the moment there is an official backlog of up to six weeks, although I do know someone who's been waiting since February, (it's now December).

When I walk into the processing centre, I see piles of BIDs everywhere, piled up on the desks, on spare chairs, even on the floor. I have to remove a heap of them before I can sit down and drink my first cup of tea of the day. Then there is a little light gossip, mostly revolving around last night's TV, and finally the processors get down to the serious business of handing out Christmas cards.

How many people work in a processing centre? In this one, about half. The rest make cups of tea, chat, read newspapers and surf the Internet. The well-known gambit of walking to and fro with a clipboard is much in use here. A frazzled young man staggers in from the post room with another pile of claims, and is told to 'stick them in that cupboard there.' He protests that the cupboard is already full, and is instructed to 'just shove them in somehow, don't worry about it.'

I admire the new information technology, and wander round the centre, chatting to people I know. In one corner, a fierce argument is going on between several people as to whether full time students are able to claim Income Support. Each of the participants has a different opinion, and each is convinced that theirs is the correct one. There are more than fifty different benefits, and the benefits system is so complex that situations like this often develop. I think they should just ask the claimants, as they know all the answers. (A full time student can claim Income Support, if they are a 'prescribed category of person' such as a lone parent). I sit down to listen to the arguing, but contribute nothing, as it's best never to admit you know something. You may end up having to do it.

Drug addicts.

When I first joined the DWP, I was amazed to discover that drug addicts and alcoholics were treated as though they were ill, and paid Income Support accordingly. I had the vague idea that these conditions were self-inflicted, but obviously I was wrong. I'll admit straight away that I don't drink, never have and never will, because I just don't like alcohol. (Yes, I am actually English, hard to believe though that may be). To me, alcohol tastes just like disinfectant smells. When I was young, I'd sit in the pub pretending to enjoy gin and orange, or vodka and lime, but now I don't pretend any more, and I'd much prefer a nice cup of tea. As for drugs, I was a teenager in the seventies, but we tended not to get many illegal substances at the church youth club. So, it's hard for me to understand why people become alcoholics or drug addicts, and even harder to understand why the tax payer has to fork out to support them. Perhaps I'm unreasonably harsh, I don't know.

Not far from the job centre is a chemist with a 'clean needle exchange.' Addicts can go there, receive fresh needles and inject their drug in a little room at the back. Here also, addicts who are trying to come off heroin with a 'methadone script', (a prescription of methadone, which is a substitute for heroin, from a doctor), get their legal methadone dose in a small glass, and have to swallow it in front of the pharmacist, in case they sell it to buy heroin. (Sometimes they sell it after they've swallowed it, and then it's called 'spit meths.' Think about it, or maybe you prefer not to. Very wise.) I do realise that HIV and other unpleasant conditions are spread by addicts sharing needles, so I suppose places like that are a good thing. Would it be a good thing to legalise drugs altogether? I'm not sure about that. Since at least half the crime in Britain is drug-related, and ensuring a clean, legal supply of drugs would put a stop to a great deal of this, it might be a good idea. However, the poor old tax payer would have to pay up yet again.

Drug addicts who come into the job centre are, frankly, frightening. It is mostly they who 'kick off,' that is shout, scream, and sometimes even try to attack us, or do actually attack us, when they have not received their money, usually because they have not complied with a condition of their benefit. Nearly everyone else can be reasoned with, but not junkies. It's as if the desire for the drug takes them over to such an extent that there's no human being left.

But then, if they were not on benefits, what would happen to them? They often come to us as a last resort, after having lost their job, (if they ever had one) their home, (not so much through not paying rent, because there is housing benefit, but residents are sometimes evicted from public housing if their home becomes known as a drug den) and often, if female, their children, who have been taken into care by Social Services. I remember talking to a 28 year old man who had never had a job since he left school at 16, because he'd been on drugs all that time. He'd made several attempts to come off them, and failed each time. Moving from Glasgow to London to try yet again, he'd fallen into conversation with someone at King's Cross station, and Bob's your uncle. I asked him 'Why do you keep doing this to yourself?' and the answer I got was: 'Why not?'

Should they be put forcibly into detox as a condition of receiving benefit? While I consider that idea to have some merit, there are those who say that detox will not work unless the person really wants to come off their drug. (I can't see why they wouldn't to come off, actually). But supposing that to be true, all we are doing is just paying them to be junkies. As for those prisoners who recently won compensation for being being taken forcibly off their drug when sent to prison, (going to prison is an entirely voluntary act, by the way), all I can say is 'What are we like?)

I used to have a friend who worked in a detox unit, and got myself invited to a meeting there, on the grounds that it would help me in my dealings with addicts at work. (I actually just wanted to see what went on there). At the meeting, a young woman told us that she had been a prostitute to fund her habit. She said that it was either that, or stealing to pay for her drug, and went on to state how hard it was giving up, and that the best solution to drug addiction would be somewhere people could go to obtain a free, safe supply, and help to come off 'when they were quite ready to do so.' Unable to keep quiet, I said that an even better solution would be not to start taking drugs in the first place, and that's why my friend is no longer my friend. She said that people take drugs to blot out the pain of their unbearable lives, to forget problems such as homelessness. I said that when I was homeless I didn't start taking drugs, on the grounds that I had enough problems already without that, and she's never spoken to me again.

Better Off Calculations

We have a meeting this morning, so we all sit in a circle. I am next to my vast colleague who is wearing a pink jumper and matching sparkly scarf. 'How nice you look,' the manager of our section tells her encouragingly. 'That colour really suits you, you look like a model.' That statement would have been true if three more words had been added: 'Of a hippotomus.'

Pleasantries over, we get down to business. We have been ordered to promote Better Off Calculations to our customers, and that is what we are going to do from now on. What are Better Off Calculations? BOC, as we call it, is a computer programme which aims to show our customers that they are better off in work than when living on benefits. You put in details of their expenditure, such as rent and council tax, then put in the amount of benefit they receive, (including things like housing benefit which pays their rent for them) then the amount of money they can earn, and the programme works out if they are better off going to work, or remaining on benefits. It also takes into account the cost of child care, and knows how much council tax is paid in various London boroughs. (Clever stuff).

But should there actually be a choice? Surely, if someone is well enough to go to work, and sees a job they can do they should be made to take it, or have their benefits stopped? Or am I the only person who thinks this?

However, we are to offer this service to every customer we see, and not only to those who have a particular job in mind. The form we are given to be filled in by all asks them how much they think they could earn, and how many hours they would like to work. (Not a particularly good idea).

My first customer today is a single parent with two children. I give her the form and try to explain what BOCs actually are. I'm not sure if she understands, because throughout my explanation she only stares at me open-mouthed. (When I first encountered this stare I thought I had sprouted another head, but now I'm used to it). But she does make an effort at filling in the form, and when she hands it back to me I see that she wants to work for twenty hours per week, and earn between £25,000.00 and £30,000.00 per annum. So would I, and so would half the country. This from a twenty-three year old woman who has no qualifications and has never had a job in her life (she was pregnant when she left school). I ask her what job she thinks she could do that would give her that money and those hours, but receive only the open-mouthed stare in return. So I do the BOC, print it off and hand it to her. At least she can write her shopping list on the back.

Then comes another customer who has never worked, a forty-three year old man with a mental illness. I'll say only that he was abused by members of his family, because, believe me, you don't want to know any more. He would like to go to work, but sadly accepts that he probably never will. I don't do a BOC for him, it would be cruel. He tells me that he has been to visit his father in prison at the weekend, and his father refused to see him, which upset him. Neither the father or anyone else in the family ever really wanted him, except to use him, sometimes literally, as a punch bag, but he can't accept it, saying only that they must have been 'sick' to do what they did to him. I make no comment on this, as I think otherwise. The description evil b......s comes to mind.

The next BOC goes to an obese woman in her thirties who is suffering from various medical conditions. With high dudgeon, she tells me that she recently consulted a doctor privately (paid for by her sister) who told her that her painful backache could be cured if she lost some weight. Trying not to laugh, I give her the BOC form. This woman has only ever worked as a cleaner, and with her disability benefits she'd hardly be any better off if she worked, which is fine for her as she clearly doesn't intend to. While filling in the form, she tells me how much she misses her own country, Brazil, but I doubt if she'll ever go back there - she knows when she's on to a good thing.

I keep on handing out BOCs for the rest of the day, as do my colleagues, and I get quite adept at doing them, but they don't cause anybody to rush out and get a job. However, we have achieved our target, of them, and earned some Brownie points. BOCs could actually be quite useful, but only if someone had a specific job in mind with a known wage. Then, they would know with certainty how much better off they would be, (or not) and could make plans accordingly. Meanwhile, targets are, as always, the most important thing.