The
welfare state was never meant to be like this.
When
Britain was rebuilding after the Second World War, the government made a
promise: no one would be left behind. The Beveridge Report of 1942 identified
five great evils — Want, Disease, Ignorance, Squalor, and Idleness and designed
a safety net “from cradle to grave.” This was not charity. It was a right of
citizenship. Workers would pay in when they could, and society would stand by
them when illness, disability, or unemployment struck.
It
was about solidarity, not suspicion. Cleaners, carers, teachers, factory
workers, bus drivers, the people who kept Britain running were not on high
wages, but they worked their whole lives. Welfare was their guarantee of
dignity when times turned hard.
Fast
forward to today, and that promise has been twisted into something rotten. The
Department for Work and Pensions (DWP), the very institution meant to uphold
the welfare state, has become a machine of suspicion and punishment. Instead of
support, it delivers stress. Instead of protection, it delivers humiliation.
And
I know this because I live it too.
My
Experience: Missed Calls, Hostile Letters, and No Accountability
On
25 September, I was due to have a phone appointment with the DWP. The call
never came. There was no missed call, no voicemail, nothing in my records. But
a few days later, a letter arrived. Its opening line: “You need to tell us
why you did not attend.” The closing threat: “If you do not attend your
appointments… your payment could be stopped.”
That
letter was not written to help me. It was written to blame me.
I
rebooked for another appointment at 10:30. Again, no call came. Again, no
missed call. Again, I was left chasing. Meanwhile, the letters keep coming
cold, passive-aggressive, treating me not as a human needing support but as a
suspect who needs to prove themselves.
When
I once complained about a member of staff who was openly rude, a manager
brushed it off: “he wasn’t.” No accountability. No change. Where do you go from
there?
And
when I tried to do something positive, to move forward and build a business, I
discovered another barrier: DWP’s own “Access to Work” scheme. On paper, it
helps disabled people start or stay in employment. In reality, for business, it
can take up to 30 weeks for support to arrive. But the first 30 weeks of
a new business are the most critical. A delay that long isn’t support; it’s
sabotage.
That
is my reality. And I am not alone.
The
cruelty of the system is not just inefficiency. It is baked into its culture.
And sometimes, it kills.
- J. Whiting,
a 42-year-old disabled mother, had her benefits wrongly stopped in 2017.
Just days later, she died by suicide. In 2025, a second inquest confirmed
that the DWP’s decision had triggered her death (The Guardian, 2 June 2025).
- M. O’Sullivan,
aged 60, was declared “fit for work” despite serious mental health issues.
He took his own life. The coroner directly blamed the Work Capability
Assessment for causing “intense anxiety” that led to his death (The Guardian, 7 Feb 2020).
- K. Featherstone,
a young disabled man, had his PIP cut. His health deteriorated into
malnutrition, depression, and isolation. He took his own life. His mother
later described the assessment process as “torture,” saying the DWP had
ignored repeated warnings (Disability Rights UK, July 2021).
- A disabled woman learned that her PIP
appeal had failed. Just 48 hours later, she was dead by suicide. Her life
ended with a letter (Disability News Service, 2019).
- 1,860 people
who applied for PIP between 2018 and 2022 died within six months of being
denied support nearly 100 people a month. Many were terminally ill, but
the system still decided they didn’t qualify (Marie Curie, 2022).
Behind
every statistic is a human being. And behind every death is the same culture: a
department more focused on policing than protecting.
A
Culture of Suspicion and Punishment
What
ties my story to J. Whiting’s, to M. O’Sullivan’s, to Ker
Featherstone’s?
It
is culture.
The
DWP does not see claimants as citizens with rights. It sees us as cheats
waiting to be exposed. That suspicion is written into every letter, every
assessment, every interaction.
- Phone appointments missed by DWP
become accusations against the claimant.
- Appeals drag on for years, leaving
people in poverty and despair.
- Customer service is often rude,
dismissive, or outright cruel.
- Assessors ask questions like, “Why
haven’t you killed yourself yet?” and yes, that happened to claimants (The
Independent, 2017).
Even
in the rare cases when coroners or watchdogs find fault, the system protects
itself. The National Audit Office confirmed at least 69 suicides had
been linked to DWP benefit handling through its own internal reviews, but it
warned the real figure was likely far higher, because many cases were
under-recorded or destroyed (The
Guardian, 7 Feb 2020).
This
is not welfare. This is not safe. This is institutional abuse.
The
Betrayal of the Post-War Promise
What
makes it worse is remembering where all this began.
The
welfare state was created to protect ordinary workers, the cleaners, the
factory workers, the teachers, the nurses, the builders, people who gave their
whole lives to their jobs but never earned enough to be secure when illness or
redundancy came. It was designed as a collective promise: “We will look
after you, because you looked after society.”
Now?
That promise has been broken.
Instead
of being a right of citizenship, welfare is treated as a favour. Instead of
solidarity, it is suspicion. Instead of support, it is punishment. The DWP, the
institution meant to protect, has become the institution that harms.
This
is not just inefficiency. It is cruelty, normalised. And it must end.
What
Needs to Change
Anger
is not enough. We already know the system is broken — the question is: what
must be done to fix it? The answer is not cutting disability benefits, not
harsher sanctions, not more hoops to jump through. The answer is cultural and
structural change.
Here
are six urgent demands.
1.
A Statutory Duty of Care
Right
now, the DWP has no legal duty to protect the people it deals with. That
means when vulnerable claimants are harmed, even when they die, the department
is not held responsible.
This
has to change. A recent report from Parliament’s Work and Pensions Committee
recommended a statutory duty of care: a legal requirement that the DWP
safeguard claimants, especially those who are disabled, ill, or at risk of harm
(UK
Parliament Report, 2025).
Why
it matters: If doctors, teachers, and social workers can be held accountable
for safeguarding failures, why not the DWP? It handles the lives of millions,
often at their lowest point. Without a duty of care, claimants will continue to
fall through the cracks, sometimes fatally.
2.
End Hostile Communications
The
language of DWP letters is one of suspicion and blame. “Tell us why you
failed to attend.” “If you do not respond, your payments may be
stopped.”
But
many people never “failed” at all. Calls are missed by the DWP, letters arrive
late, and vulnerable people are punished for administrative errors.
Why
it matters: Tone is not cosmetic. Tone can save lives. A letter that blames can
tip someone already struggling into despair. A letter that supports can give
them enough hope to carry on.
The
DWP must rewrite its communications in plain, compassionate language. For
example:
- Instead of “You did not attend
your appointment,” write “We tried to contact you. Did something go
wrong? Please let us know.”
It
costs nothing to treat people with dignity.
3.
Independent Oversight and Transparency
When
claimants die, the DWP carries out internal process reviews (IPRs). But most of
these reports never see the light of day. In fact, Disability Rights UK
revealed that older reports have even been destroyed (DRUK, 2020).
This
secrecy is deliberate. It shields the DWP from accountability.
Why
it matters: Without transparency, lessons are never learned. Families are left
without answers. And the public cannot see how many lives have been lost.
All
IPRs, past and future, must be published in full. And oversight must be taken
out of DWP’s hands and given to an independent watchdog with the power to
investigate, sanction, and enforce change.
4.
Appeals That Don’t Take Years
Many
people who are denied benefits eventually win on appeal. But the appeal system
is so slow that claimants often endure months or years of stress, debt, and
poverty before justice arrives. Some do not live to see it.
Why
it matters: A system that regularly overturns its own decisions is a system
that knows it is making mistakes. Delayed justice is not justice; it is
cruelty.
Appeals
must be fast-tracked, with priority given to cases where health is
deteriorating or livelihoods are at stake. Independent panels should be
empowered to overturn unfair decisions swiftly.
5.
Training in Human Dignity
Customer
service is often rude, dismissive, or outright cruel. Claimants have been asked
appalling questions like “Why haven’t you killed yourself yet?” (The
Independent, 2017). Complaints are brushed aside.
Why
it matters: DWP staff are not dealing with numbers. They are dealing with
people at their most vulnerable people in crisis, with disabilities, and people
facing poverty.
Every
staff member must receive mandatory training in trauma-informed practice,
disability rights, and respect. Staff who abuse claimants must face
consequences. And claimants must have real avenues for complaints that are
taken seriously, not dismissed out of hand.
6.
Fix Access to Work
For
disabled people who want to start or stay in work, the DWP offers “Access to
Work”, a scheme meant to provide grants and adjustments. On paper, it sounds
like support. In reality, for disabled entrepreneurs, it often takes 30
weeks for help to arrive.
Why
it matters: The first 30 weeks of a business are the most critical. That is
when support is needed most. Waiting half a year is not support, it is
sabotage.
If
the government is serious about disabled people working, Access to Work must be
streamlined. Support should be delivered quickly, flexibly, and with
recognition that disabled entrepreneurs and workers cannot wait half a year for
basic assistance.
The
Bottom Line
The
welfare state was created after the Second World War as a promise: that no one
would be abandoned in times of hardship. That promise has been broken.
Instead
of care, the DWP delivers cruelty. Instead of dignity, it delivers suspicion.
Instead of support, it delivers stress. And in too many cases, it delivers
death.
Cutting
disability benefits will not fix this. The system itself is rotten. It does not
need tinkering it needs transformation.
We
cannot accept passive-aggressive letters that shame people into despair. We
cannot accept years-long appeals that leave people destitute. We cannot accept
Access to Work delays that crush disabled entrepreneurs before they begin. We
cannot accept a department that operates without a duty of care while people
die under its watch.
This
is not just about money. It is about humanity. And right now, Britain’s safety
net has become a trap.
To
MPs, to ministers, to the Ombudsman, to anyone in power: you cannot say you did
not know. The evidence is here. The lives lost are here. My story is here.
The
DWP does not need more excuses. It needs reform. It needs accountability. And
above all, it needs to remember why the welfare state was created in the first
place: to protect people when life is hardest.
Until
then, every missed call, every hostile letter, every delayed appeal, every
unnecessary death is on your hands.
For more stories visit my substack- https://chronicledtruths.substack.com
