Minnie’s Musings

I am all for due diligence when it comes to checking up on those who are claiming benefits. And I am all for timely reviews of benefits so they remain fit for purpose. This is how the system is kept in check, theoretically.

His Nibs is migrating from ESA to Universal Credit. His Nibs is not able to work and will never be able to work. At the age of 28 he has a learning age of a pre-school child and has to have two to one support in public. His is not a borderline case. He has a mental disability. He can make modest progress, but he cannot be cured.

What completely flummoxes me – and has driven me to tears in recent weeks – is the ridiculousness of the system.

I am my son’s appointee. I have been his appointee since he turned 16 and the very nice man in the horn rimmed specs came to check that His Nibs could not manage his finances himself. It was at a difficult time (shortly before we had to send him away to a residential college due to his behaviour) so I was a tad testy when this chap rang up and said he needed to come and see us.

Why did the DWP need to do a face to face to gather evidence when His Nibs file was full and comprehensive, detailing everything he was unable to do in painful detail (and I mean painful, you have to lay your life bare with these things)? Didn’t they have it all? What was the point?

Anyway, DWP gentleman turned up, we filled out the form and then he asked to meet His Nibs and see his bedroom (this is standard with Social Services et al as a welfare check). I called upstairs to warn His Nibs that we were coming up. His Nibs appeared, grunted at the gentleman and slid down the banister. “Point taken,” said the gentleman. “I shall leave you in peace.”

Now, 12 years later and the DWP has got round to migrating those on ESA to Universal Credit (UC) using their natty new online service. Mindful of the rather imminent deadline, I created an account and did my best. I was informed that my identity needed to be verified. Fair enough. Something had clearly gone wrong with the passport upload or whatever. These things happen.

Mindful that we were about to depart on holiday (previously detailed in these pages) I chased the verification several days later as I did not want a palaver if we missed the all important deadline. So I rang the UC helpline and went through a series of advisors who were unable to help.

No they could not discuss His Nibs case with me because I had not been verified as his appointee. “But you are writing to me as his appointee” I proffered. “You write to me the whole time about his benefits. You have done for 25 years.” Nope, they could not discuss it.

All I wanted to know was whether I was going to hear from someone soon because we were about to go away. Nope, they could not, would not tell me. The clincher was when I asked, “Is this because you don’t know because you don’t have access to the information or that you cannot tell me what it says on the screen in front of you?”. The pause followed by a repeat of denial said it all.

Anyway, I did not lose my temper. I left that to after I put the phone down whereupon I slammed my pen down, then my mouse, then my notebook. And then I cried. Admirable self restraint for which I patted myself on the back when I stopped sniveling.

So, picture us having stopped at Maidstone services on the way to Dover, ready to jump back into the car to meet the boat. It is a good thing that I had factored in traffic delays as the DWP chose that moment to ring up and verify my identity. I was loath to miss this opportunity to sort it out so went through the questions posed by “John” which took a good 20 minutes by which time His Nibs was demanding “Come on! Time to go now!” at the top of his voice, getting increasingly cross.

Now, this call was unexpected. Particularly as I picked up the invitation after the call had ended. As I was checking my emails regularly in anticipation of being off grid for a week, I know this for a fact.

Fast forward to Tuesday morning this week. We were on our way down to the West Country for a family funeral. An email popped up to tell me that I had an in person appointment for the following morning. Said email arrived less then 24 hours in advance of said appointment. I spent the next hour trying to access my online UC account from my phone to rearrange.

Some of this is petty frustration. Government IT systems are clunky in comparison to online retailers, because there is a limited to the whiz-bangs that can be accommodated within the budget. My brain tells me that procedures and protocols need to be followed. I am happy to adhere to safeguards and checks as necessary. You cannot expect to get money from the Government without providing evidence that you need it.

But I do wonder how many appointments (phone or in person) are missed because you are not told about them in a timely manner. Does this not waste time and effort and delay processing of claimants further? For me it comes in the same bracket as the appointment to make an appointment with the NHS MSK referral service. And leads me to scream. Arghhhhhh!

So, I am off to the Job Centre tomorrow morning, having dug out all the relevant paperwork. And this time, I will remember where I have filed said paperwork and not worry that I bunged it in the loft behind the Christmas decorations.