Assessment

On July 30th, two separate yet very revealing documentaries were shown on television regarding ESA, the Work Capability Assessment, and the company which carries them out: Atos. If you don't know much about the current incapacity system or the real impact it has on our lives, I can highly recommend that you watch them both.

Dispatches: Britain on the Sick

Panorama: Disabled or Faking It?

Unfortunately, these issues became all too relevant to Leo and I just a few days later. Leo had attended a WCA at the end of June, and received the results over the telephone. He had not been scored high enough on his WCA, and his ESA benefits were being withdrawn. The person he spoke to said that Leo had the right to appeal, and that if he managed to appeal within the next few days his benefits might be reinstated without a noticeable break in payments. As of writing, Leo is still waiting for the appeal paperwork to be delivered to our door.

Now, Leo and I deal with similar conditions. He doesn't have the agoraphobia that stops me from leaving the house on my own; my physical ailments are nowhere near as chronic as his. Yet the way our cases have been treated have been like chalk and cheese. I was never asked to attend a WCA. On my paperwork alone, the DWP assigned me to the support group. Leo, however, has had to provide countless sicknotes whilst his original paperwork was assessed, has had a very unpleasant person from the DWP come into our flat to make sure that we weren't living as a couple (we aren't), and has had to attend the WCA on top.

I was handed ESA straightaway, no further questions asked. Leo has been through the wringer trying to obtain his, only to be denied. Tell me the system isn't flawed, I dare you.

Leo is now more angry and depressed than ever. He and I both told the DWP that there was no way I could provide him with financial support should he be denied ESA, but how can I not? I have no legal obligation to support him, but I certainly have a moral obligation to him. He is my closest friend, and he has saved me from the brink more than once. What sort of monster would I be if I sat and watched him starve? I am putting myself at risk to help him, so instantly this decision affects not just Leo, but myself too. One person's ESA should not be stretched to two people, yet this is the outcome that Atos has forced us into, with their terrifyingly flawed system of scoring patients, meeting targets (or "statistical norms", as Benefit Scrounging Scum pointed out), and supposedly trying to save the government millions by weeding out fraudulent claims. There is just no way that Leo and I could manage long-term in this state. If he were to go back to the Jobcentre, what right-minded employer would hire him in the state he's in? Yet if he is unsuccessful in his appeal against Atos' decision, what choice does he have?

Atos care only for financial costs, not for human costs. The extent to which they ruin lives seems to suggest that they do their poisonous job with gleeful abandon. I can only conclude that the WCA guidelines were written by a group of people who have never been physically or mentally ill in their lives. There were clearly no healthcare professionals involved, just statisticians and bankers.

Shame on them all.

Certificate

If the British benefits system is broken, then my local Jobcentre is surely the San Andreas Fault. If you are unlucky enough to be within its catchment area, anything that can go wrong with your benefits claim most certainly will. Its staff seem to straddle the fence between having their hands tied by red tape and simply not caring anymore; several advisors there are quite openly hostile to their customers. So when my doctor first told me that I would need to be signed off, naturally I was quite concerned. Making the change from a Jobseekers' Allowance claim to an Employment and Support Allowance claim didn't sound remotely simple. I had heard horror stories about Work Capability Assessments and how stringent the system had become in order to kick spongers back into work.

Imagine my surprise, then, when my opening gambit was immediately accepted. I handed my doctor's medical certificate to the advisor I was due to sign on with that day, and he closed down my JSA claim there and then. I spent a merry 45 minutes on the phone opening an ESA claim, and the follow-up paperwork came through my letterbox the very next day. This unexpected efficiency is the exception that proves the rule: the Department for Work and Pensions knows not what it does.

When I was at a particularly low point last month, my doctor extended my sicknote and Leo collected the certificate from the surgery for me. He delivered it to the Jobcentre on my behalf, who promised to fax it to the regional head office dealing with my ESA claim. Meanwhile I filled in one of those long forms detailing my condition and how useless it renders me: the cyclical nature of my mental state, my fear of people and going anywhere alone, and what I call my "black letterbox" days. Leo posted that for me too, and that should have been that.

Except that the Jobcentre hasn't faxed my second certificate at all. Having wondered why no payments had been forthcoming six weeks after I opened my claim, I called head office today to make enquiries. Everything was in order, but for a current medical certificate that should already have been received. Until they get one, I am apparently expected to live on fresh air. I cannot speak to my doctor about the situation until next week; the Easter holidays are upon us. Whilst I do not celebrate Easter, I cannot complain about the disruption. If the working calendar were based upon my own faith, the world would be relegated to a three-day working week.

Yet I count myself blessed that my claim is at least underway. Leo, too, is trying to make the transition from JSA to ESA, but lightning never strikes twice. After the initial phonecall to open his claim last week, he is still waiting on the follow-up paperwork. Again, this could be down to Easter-related issues with Royal Mail, but my beloved Leo does not have the patience that I do. He is quicker to see injustice and personal vendettas, however unlikely. Perhaps I would feel the same had I been caught up in the system as long as he has.

Unfortunately, several points about our situation do count against us. Unemployment is well above the national average in this city, and our local Jobcentre is busier than most. There are also many whose sense of entitlement outweighs their actual need; the riots that took place here last summer are proof-positive of this, and recovery is still ongoing. Things are made that much more difficult for those with genuine issues to receive the support they need, whilst those who are playing the system to receive welfare for nothing laugh behind our backs. It is a culture that young adults in this area have been immersed in since birth. One wonders, if the system had been fairer in the first place, whether these pressures now placed upon it could have been avoided.

Looking at the city through a window and a computer screen, I hold out very little hope of seeing positive reform in the area. Like so many other individuals in my situation, all over the country, I am limited to hoping that, just for once, the system will do right by me - and knowing that it will only be a matter of time before it fails me again.