The benefit cap is plunging private renters into poverty

Homelessness in Manchester. Image: Getty.

When George Osborne first introduced the overall household benefit cap in 2013, it limited the total amount of benefits that a household working less than 16 hours per week could claim at £26,000 a year. Initial polling found that an overwhelming majority of the public supported this idea, even those who relied on the welfare safety net were in favour. In fact, it proved so popular that two years later the government lowered the cap again. It’s now at £20,000 a year outside of London, or £23,000 in the capital. 

At Shelter we have just carried out an analysis on the impact of the lower cap on private renting families. Our findings paint a pretty bleak picture: in more than half of England the cap means that, after paying rent, a family with two children living in a small two-bed home would have less than £8 per person per day to cover all their essentials like food and bills. This would leave them at least £100 a week under the UK poverty line.

For families with three children, the cap now applies in every single area of the country. In one in five areas these families would have just £2.72 per person per day to live on after paying their rent. Could you manage on just £2.72 a day if you had to put enough money in the gas meter to stop the pipes freezing, clothe your children, keep the lights on for them to do their homework and make sure you can give them a decent meal? Probably not.

I know many people reading this will be thinking £20,000 a year is a pretty decent sum, and is what many families manage to live on. But here’s the dilemma, between the Beveridge Report of 1942 and George Osborne’s party conference speech of 2010, every architect of the welfare state has acknowledged that it has to mitigate “the problem of rent”. Rents vary so hugely across the country they simply cannot be accommodated by a one-size-fits-all approach.


This means that for some, £20,000 is an adequate sum to cover their basic livings costs. But unfortunately for quite a lot of others, rapidly rising private rents mean they can’t afford to keep a roof over their head. The government knows this: that’s why even working households earning £20,000 and over are still entitled to housing benefit in many of areas of the country where local rents are higher than they can reasonably afford.

But the benefit cap means that for some families who have fallen on particularly hard times, the safety net, which the rest of us expect to catch us in a crisis, is strictly off-limits. Like a single mother with three small children living in Sunderland who recently turned to us for help. Her youngest child is only two and since her partner left, getting back into work is proving difficult for the moment. In spite of living in a modest two-bed home, she’s got to somehow find an extra £180 a month to cover the shortfall in rent created by the cap. She is absolutely terrified her family will become homeless.

While it’s right and necessary to have restrictions on housing benefit, these should be linked to local housing costs. An arbitrary, blanket national cap ignores the reality of high local rents and turns the support available into a postcode lottery. Homelessness is fast-becoming the tragic yet inevitable outcome for those families hit the hardest. I know Shelter’s workload will only increase as the cap bites deeper.

Most people desperately want to work, but not everybody genuinely can. People’s lives will always be more complicated. Unfortunately, not everyone can work the 16 hours a week needed to avoid the cap. Many of the people we are talking about will have very young children to look after or only be able to find insecure jobs that offer them a few hours per week. Imagine if you were a single parent with young children to care for whose partner had walked out on you – realistically it might take you a bit of time to get back into work.

Whatever you think of the benefit cap in principle, putting people at risk of homelessness or forcing them into emergency accommodation is not going to help anyone find a job. The rising number of people my colleagues and I meet who are facing destitution is proof of that. I refuse to believe that those who understandably want to see fairness at the core of our welfare system would consider this a fair consequence. It’s time the government committed to preventing homelessness and rethought this cap.

Jo Underwood is a children’s solicitor at Shelter. The analysis featured in Monday night's Channel 4 Dispatches.

This article previously appeared on our sister site, the Staggers

 
 
 
 

America's cities can't police their way out of this crisis

Police deployed tear gas during anti-racism demonstrations in Los Angeles over the weekend. (Mario Tama/Getty Images)

As protesters took to the streets across the United States over the weekend to express their anger at police killings of unarmed black Americans, it was hard to miss the hypocrisy coming from local authorities – including the otherwise progressive, left-leaning officials who are in power in most major American cities. 

Many US mayors and their police chiefs had issued public statements over the past week that seemed – only briefly, as it turned out – to signal a meaningful shift in the extent to which the Black Lives Matters movement is being taken seriously by those who are in a position to enact reforms. 

The sheer depravity of the most recent high-profile killing had left little room for equivocation. George Floyd, 46, died last Monday under the knee of white Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, while three additional officers helped to hold Floyd down, doing nothing to aid him as he begged for them to stop and eventually lost consciousness. The officers had been attempting to arrest Floyd on suspicion of having used a counterfeit $20 bill at a deli. All four have since been fired, and Chauvin was arrested Friday on charges of third-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter. 

“The lack of compassion, use of excessive force, or going beyond the scope of the law, doesn’t just tarnish our badge—it tears at the very fabric of race relations in this country,” Los Angeles Police Chief Michel Moore told the Washington Post in response to the Floyd case. Meanwhile Moore’s boss, Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti, on Friday claimed that he understood why his city, which is no stranger to police brutality, was protesting. “We absolutely need as a nation, certainly as a city, to voice our outrage, it’s our patriotic duty to not only stand up for George Floyd but for everybody who has been killed unnecessarily, who’s been murdered for the structural racism that we have in our country,” Garcetti said. 

Normally, US police chiefs and mayors tend to ask citizens to withhold judgment on these types of cases until full investigations can be completed. But a 10-minute video recording of Floyd’s killing had made what happened plain. Police chiefs across the country – and even the nation’s largest police union, which is notorious for defending officer abuses – similarly condemned the actions of the Minneapolis officers, in a rare show of moral clarity that, combined with the arrest of Chauvin, offered at least a glimmer of hope that this time things might be different. 

As the events of the weekend have since shown, that glimmer was all too fleeting. 

In city after city over the past three days, US mayors and their police chiefs made a series of the same decisions – starting with the deployment of large, heavily armed riot units – that ultimately escalated violent confrontations between officers and protesters. Images widely shared on social media Saturday and Sunday nights made it clear that members of law enforcement were often initiating the worst of the violence, and appeared to treat protesters as enemy combatants, rather than citizens they were sworn to protect. 


In New York City, two police SUVs were seen plowing into a crowd of protesters, while elsewhere an officer was recorded pulling down a young protester’s coronavirus mask in order to pepper spray his face

In Louisville, the city where Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old black woman was fatally shot by police on 13 March, state police in riot gear were captured confiscating and destroying protesters’ supplies

In Minneapolis, forces opened fire with nonlethal rounds on residential streets, much to the shock of homeowners standing on their own front porches. 

Images of police pushing or shoving peaceful protesters were almost too numerous to count, including, in Salt Lake City, an elderly man with a cane

In many places, police also targeted journalists who were covering the protests, firing at clearly identifiable media crews with rubber bullets, injuring and even arresting reporters

Some protesters did commit acts of vandalism and looting, and the leaders of cities where that happened generally responded in the same ways. 

First, they blamed “outside agitators” for the worst protester behaviour, a claim that harkens all the way back to the civil rights era and for which the evidence is murky at best

Next, they enacted sudden curfews with little to no warning, which gave law enforcement an excuse to make mass arrests, in some cases violently. 

In a pair of widely criticized moves, Garcetti of Los Angeles closed the city’s Covid-19 testing centers and suspended the entire mass transit system Saturday evening, stranding essential workers on their way home from daytime shifts. Late Sunday night in Chicago, the city’s public school system halted its free meal distribution service for low-income children, citing “the evolving nature of activity across the city”.  

Governors in at least 12 US states, in coordination with city leaders, have since called in National Guard troops to “help”. 

At this point it’s clear that the leaders of America’s cities are in desperate need of a radically different playbook to respond to these protests. A heavily armed, militarised response to long-simmering anger toward the heavily armed, militarised approach to American policing is more than ironic – it’s ineffective. Granting police officers wider latitude to make arrests via curfews also seems destined to increase the chances of precisely the tragic, racially biased outcomes to which the protesters are reacting. 

There are other options. In places such as Flint, Michigan, and Camden, New Jersey – both poor cities home to large black populations – local law enforcement officials chose to put down their weapons and march alongside protesters, rather than face off against them. In the case of Camden, that the city was able to avoid violent clashes is in no small part related to the fact that it took the drastic step of disbanding its former police department altogether several years ago, replacing it with an entirely new structure. 

America’s cities are in crisis, in more ways than one. It’s not a coincidence that the country has tipped into chaos following months of emotionally draining stay-at-home orders and job losses that now top 40 million. Low-income Americans of colour have borne a disproportionate share of the pandemic’s ravages, and public health officials are already worried about the potential for protests to become Covid-19 super-spreading events.

All of this has of course been spurred on by the US president, who in addition to calling Sunday for mayors and governors to “get tough” on protesters, has made emboldening white nationalists his signature. Notably, Trump didn’t call on officials to get tough on the heavily armed white protesters who stormed the Michigan Capitol building over coronavirus stay-at-home orders just a few weeks ago. 

US mayors and their police chiefs have publicly claimed that they do understand – agree with, even – the anger currently spilling out onto their streets. But as long as they continue to respond to that anger by deploying large numbers of armed and armored law enforcement personnel who do not actually live in the cities they serve, who appear to be more outraged by property damage and verbal insults than by the killings of black Americans at the hands of their peers, and who are enmeshed in a dangerously violent and racist policing culture that perceives itself to be the real victim, it is hard to see how this crisis will improve anytime soon. 

Sommer Mathis is the editor of CityMetric.