I went to a DWP benefit cut consultation: Here’s what I found

“We should make the effort,” my wife said when the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) announced public consultation events on its plans for arguably the biggest shake up to disability “benefits” – I struggle with the word, because I fail to see the “benefit” of being disabled – Britain has yet seen.

The firm tone told me that I had best agree. But she was also right. Democracy withers on the vine if people aren’t willing to participate in it while the government’s current policy, and especially its rhetoric, could have a severe impact on our family and many like us. Given the chance, we should push back against that.

So we signed up, even though the DWP seemed somewhat concerned about letting the public into its events. No location was provided and when it was finally revealed, it was accompanied by a stern instruction: “Do not share these details with non-attendees, as they will not be allowed to enter the premises for this event.”

Perhaps this was with an eye on the demonstration in Manchester that resulted in a stand off between protestors and the DWP staff doing the consulting. Police were ultimately called.

The London event we attended – an extra date added to the DWP’s disability world tour after the first was sold out – featured no such drama.

We arrived a little late, thanks in part to the difficulty we faced in finding a blue badge space near the local tube stop. Note to work and pensions secretary Liz Kendall: if you’re concerned about getting disabled people into work, the ability to access the workplace is the first hurdle you have to overcome. Parking is a part of that.

But at least my visions of besuited Sir Humphreys serving up fake smiles while wishing they were at their London clubs downing bottles of claret to help them get over dealing with the unwashed were proved false.

Several tables were set out, each moderated by a casually dressed civil servant. The atmosphere was relaxed and informal, even if none of us attending felt at all relaxed about policies which could have a devastating impact on those at the sharp end.

“People will starve because of this," one disability benefits campaigner told the Manchester Evening News. This was a point we tried to make, albeit in a more nuanced way.

The government has actually eschewed any consultations on changes to the Personal Independence Payment (PIP), which will make it much harder for those in need of support with daily living to claim.

However, whoever organised these sessions was smart enough to realise that this was going to come up and that trying to shut down conversation on it would go down like a wheelchair with slashed tyres.

We were allowed to make the point that if you cut support from people who can barely look after themselves at home, you’re going to struggle to get them into work. The stated aim, even if the real motivation is to cut costs.

Another reform will see employment linked disability benefits – PIP does not depend on one’s job status and is not means tested – reduced and made harder to claim.

We were asked how long the new contribution linked jobless benefit should last and we made the point that it takes disabled people a lot longer than non disabled people to find work.

What about mandatory interviews with job coaches and suchlike? I told our moderator that Scope, the charity, says there are a million disabled people who desperately want to work but can’t find it. Rather than forcing people who are probably too sick and/or disabled down to job centres - people whom employers don’t want - shouldn’t the DWP be focussing its resources on helping these people? Those who are desperate for opportunities, keen as mustard but who may send out hundreds of applications without so much as a single interview?

I was throughly impressed with the people we were sat with. A range of disabilities were represented, but common to all was that they were knowledgeable and engaged. I couldn’t help thinking that the government might get better results if these people were hired to work in policy.

But, of course, the DWP has trouble with employing disabled people. According to an analysis by the Big Issue earlier this year, it lost more employment tribunals for disability discrimination over the last five years than any other employer.

As well as criticising, we tried to offer up ideas. Our civil servant dutifully nodded along. They seemed keen to make us feel listened to, even if, by the end, they probably felt punch drunk. Time and again we were told how important our views were.

Yet I was still left wondering whether what we said will end up getting dropped into an AI to be distilled before being left at the bottom of a junior minister’s red box. And were we just patsies, there so the government could claim it has listened when decisions have already been made? That is my fear.

One point upon which all of us agreed: the government’s rhetoric has been horrible. Disabled people have been demeaned and attacked, presumably so we can be served up as the sacrificial lambs for chancellor Rachel Reeves in her flailing quest to balance the nation’s books.

It speaks volumes that we were given the number of the Samaritans on a handout. “We understand that this can be distressing,” it said of the proposals. Well, yes. Perhaps think about why that might be?