Yesterday we learned that the head of the UK's statistics watchdog has written
a rebuke to Iain Duncan Smith over his department's handling of
statistics in the immigration and benefits issues that Chris Grayling
tried to make headway with last week. To those of us who have been
following the Welfare Reform bill, and the DWP's attempts to shove it
through Parliament, this will come as no surprise. The Department has
a policy of deliberate, calculated and persistent misrepresentation
of what they are trying to do with the “reform” of benefits.
Francesca Martinez's phrase “morally disabled” was never more
apt.
Specifically
Sir Michael Scholar, the head of the UK Statistics Authority,
questioned the way figures on immigrants claiming benefits were
released last week, with a pre-release briefing given by ChrisGrayling and Damian Green, making it clear that the release was
intended to whip up concern about immigrants taking taxpayers' money,
without telling the full story, e.g. that immigrants are half as
likely to claim as indigenous Brits.
Acomment piece by Mark Easton adds some context to this:
“The
profound concerns of the UK Statistics Authority at this kind of
ministerial behaviour are reflected in a lecture Sir Michael gave at
Cambridge University last year. "There are strong forces at
work," he told his audience at St John's College, "whose
natural outcome is, I suggest, to demote rationality, analysis and
the pursuit of knowledge within government."
Referring
to "a new kind of departmental minister whose consuming interest
is in what the next day's press will say", Sir Michael referred
to Whitehall's "diminishing interest in analysis and enquiry,
and, in the field of government information, a growing interest in
the persuasive press release, with its careful selection of facts and
numbers, designed to communicate as effectively as possible some
predetermined message."
There
was a time when we had a civil service that would give independent
advice to ministers, including the kind they didn't like to hear. I'm
not sure that that makes a great deal of difference to the ministers
we have currently at DWP. I think Chris Grayling for one would dump
on anybody he could find, regardless of any advice he got. But
overall it does make a difference. Today's civil servants are less
inclined to stand out for what's right in the face of what is
politically expedient. They have been trained to do what the
government of the day wants, and thereby I think we have lost
something from government. It was not always like this. And I know
when it changed.
It
was in the first five years of Margaret Thatcher's premiership.
Labour did more to bring in “advisers”, but the fundamental move
was made by Margaret Thatcher, and it made a massive difference. The
department then known as DHSS (Department of health and Social
Security, aka Department of Stealth and Total Obscurity, nothing much
changes) used to (maybe it still does) run a summer school for non
graduate employees who had shown themselves to be potential high
fliers. It was held over a week at a Cambridge college. It was
organised by an academic with the help of senior civil servants. Lots
of academics and lots of senior civil servant attended, gave
seminars, took part in question and answer sessions, chatted over
meals, and generally gave the participants a magnificent experience
of academic analysis and political discourse. They had a habit of
inviting a few social workers. The employees were divided into groups
for seminar work and each group got a social worker. Very few social
workers in those days were interested in welfare rights. I was one of
them and I was working in Cambridge at the time when Cambridgeshire
were invited to nominate someone so I got to go to it. That was in
1979, after Margaret Thatcher had come to power but before she had
had time to have much effect.
That
summer school was one of the three best learning experiences of my
life. The atmosphere was electric. The academics were people who
understood the real world. The civil servants were absolutely top
class, bright as buttons, brilliant speakers, knew their stuff
backwards and – this is the key thing – were completely honest
about the political process and how the wheels of government actually
work. I remember in particular two people, an academic and a civil
servant, discussing the way new benefits were introduced, telling us
what everybody knew but nobody ever confessed to. They got guidelines
from the treasury as to how much money they could spend and then
crafted the benefit to spend that much money. (Back in those days
there was NCIP - Non Contributory Invalidity Pension, and a special
one for housewives HNCIP. HNCIP was brought in separately and it
tested a woman's ability to do housework as well as ability to work.
Yes shot through with sexism etc. They got the calculation wrong
however, and the benefit proved to be too successful so the then
minister Alf Morris laid amended regulations before Parliament to
tighten up who could get it. He laid the regulations before
Parliament during the summer recess so Parliament was unable to
debate the change. Neat trick. Reminds me of that unsuccessfulbusinessman Lord Freud.)
I
lived off that summer school for months. In fact for years. It
brought me all sorts of insights at the political level, the social
level, the academic level, even the personal level. It was a burst of
sunshine in what was then an otherwise quite mundane life. But that
was it for 1979. Fast forward five years. By 1984 I had moved to
Sussex to continue my career as a social worker. It was East Sussex's
turn to nominate a social worker to go to the summer school. East
Sussex had as few social workers interested in welfare rights as
Cambridgeshire had had. I was asked if I wanted to go. I said yes, of
course, but I've already been once, surely somebody else should
benefit. “Don't waste my time, you're going”, was the answer.
So
I went back to Cambridge with high anticipation. And got one of the
biggest disappointments of my life. The college was the same, the
participants were the same, the academics were the same. But the
civil servants had changed beyond recognition. They had all been got
at by Thatcher by that time. Their job was no longer to tell the
truth, their job was to defend and justify government policy. And
they did it so enthusiastically that nobody dared put a foot wrong.
The openness, the intellectual rigour, the brilliant honesty of the
1979 summer school were completely destroyed. There was an atmosphere
even of intimidation around. At the 1979 summer school, the
participants felt completely able to say provocative things and to
ask potentially embarrassing questions. I say “potentially” -
none actually was embarrassing because none of the senior civil
servants there were afraid to tell the truth. At the 1984 school I
heard participants say they weren’t going to say anything out of
turn in case it damaged their careers or even possibly them staying
in their job. I still got something from that summer school - the
academics were just as high calibre. But my chief memory of it is the
chill laid over the atmosphere by the attitude of the civil servants.
It
was a big lesson to me in two ways. The first is that my business
nowadays is, mostly, teaching people. This was the perfect, spine
chilling, illustration of how debate and the growth of ideas can be
choked at birth by a simple lack of openness, refusal to accept ideas
beyond your narrow range of acceptability, and worse active
opposition to ideas that don't chime with your own. The second is
political. While the civil service still claims, and tries to
maintain, some sort of independence from political authority, I have
no doubt that the quality of advice that ministers get now is not as
good, not as real, not as balanced, and, crucially, nowhere near as
innovative as it would be if ministers of successive stripes had not
made it clear what they did not want to hear. There is nothing as
intellectually stifling as orthodoxy. And in Whitehall nowadays we
have a massive orthodoxy in favour of surveillance government and
private provision, which serves nobody well apart from politicians
and captains of commerce.
As
a postscript to the business of creating benefits, I was interested
to see Lord Newton of Braintree, who introduced DLA in the 1990s
describing the process in exactly the same way. (Look a bit more than halfway down that link.) “What we did on
that occasion was to cobble together a slightly curious construction
based on the existing benefits of mobility allowance and attendance
allowance using the maximum amount of money I could extract from the
Treasury...” I'm sure that they still do it like that today.
There's nothing wrong with that process, as long as it is carried out
with fairness and with some intellectual rigour. What is wrong with
the current process is that it is being carried through with secrecy,
lies and deceit, and its purpose is to save money regardless of who
suffers, and to create profit for a private company, again regardless
of who suffers.