UK Government, you can kiss my autistic arse
The continuing saga of unsupportive support
A few months ago I uploaded this post regarding the barriers put in place by the UK Department of Work and Pensions, highlighting how these are ableist in nature. Possibly by design, but for once I think it’s simply ignorance.
Today, I wanted to provide an update.
It’s probably no surprise that the situation I am facing hasn’t improved. The Kafkaesque approach continues, going from the ridiculous to the hysterically absurd.
Personal Independence Payment (PIP)
For background, I want to remind you that PIP is a financial benefit for people with disabilities and can be spent however we need to spend it. PIP is supposedly paid to people regardless of whether they are working or in education. PIP is “intended” to help towards some of the extra living costs arising from having a long-term health condition or disability.
PIP awards are based on a points criterion. For each component (mobility and daily living), there is a list of statements known as descriptors. Each descriptor is worth a certain number of points and if that descriptor applies to you, you score that number of points. You can score points in a few different sections. Your overall point score determines whether you are entitled to the mobility and/or daily living components.
For the record, I don’t experience mobility issues so that aspect isn’t included in this post.
The score also determines which rate you receive. If you score between eight and 11 points, you are eligible for the standard rate of that component. If you score 12 points or more, you are awarded the enhanced rate.
The criteria consider the difficulties you have and the help you need in the following areas:
1. Preparing food (including needing prompting or supervision to cook) taking nutrition (which means eating, including needing prompting or supervision) — Max 8 points
2. Managing therapy or monitoring a health condition (including needing reminding to take medication) — Max 8 points
3. Washing and bathing (including needing prompting or supervision to wash) — Max 10 points
4. Managing toilet needs or incontinence (including needing prompting or supervision) — Max 8 points
5. Dressing and undressing (including needing prompting) — Max 8 points
6. Communicating verbally (including needing communication support) — Max 12 points
7. Reading and understanding signs, symbols, and words (including needing prompting to read or understand written information) — Max 8 points
8. Engaging with other people face-to-face (which means being able to interact in an appropriate manner, understand body language and establish relationships) — Max 8 points
9. Making budgeting decisions (which includes the need for assistance when planning a budget or managing and paying bills) — Max 6 points
Having jumped through the hoops I previously mentioned, just to get the application form, I completed the paperwork. And waited.
Then waited some more.
I was eventually advised that my assessment would take place over the phone, and an appointment was set. Remember, I don’t like receiving (or making) phone calls. This is one of the daily issues I deal with. However, like a good performing monkey, I waited anxiously for the call. When it arrived, it was to cancel the appointment. FFS.
A further appointment was made and this time they honoured it. The call lasted an hour, we went through the evidence I had provided and talked through some examples I had given relating to my difficulties. All fine and dandy. If we ignore the hours spent working myself up for the call, and the hours decompressing afterwards.
On 1st August I got my results.
I scored a big fat zero.
According to the DWP. My autism apparently has absolutely no impact on my ability to meet the basic requirements in any of those criteria. Which will be a surprise to any other autist, my partner, my family, and anyone who has even glanced at the DSM-V diagnostic criteria. Seriously, a basic review of literature demonstrates that this assertion is inaccurate.
Of course, being autistic (Yes, DWP, I really am) I did two things:
1. I laughed because the report is ludicrous.
They simply ignored everything I said or provided as evidence. For example the denial letter includes the line that “There is no evidence of any diagnosed cognitive impairment which would limit you with this activity” as part of the reasoning against all of those criteria. You know, except the detailed assessment from the clinician confirming my diagnosis. Which I included in my application.
Apparently, I also didn’t appear “anxious”. In a phone call. Honestly, how do you assess that? It’s not like you could see my laying on my couch for part of the call, and for a couple of hours afterwards. The assessor had no idea that I was using stim toys and occasionally pacing up and down. So yeah, not anxious at all.
2. I did some research into the outcomes of applications.
According to their own data, they initially deny… deep breath people… 89% of all applications.
Now, anyone who has seen the film “The Rainmaker”, will instantly understand the process in play here. I seems that the DWP took the actions of the insurance company in that fictional depiction as something to follow. “They first denied it on principle” and they seem to be working on the assumption that eventually claimants will either go away or die.
However, according to the DWP’s own statistics, 59% of appeals are won by the claimant because the tribunal reached a different conclusion based on the same facts. A further 32% succeeded following the submission of “cogent oral evidence”.
Cogent oral evidence is where the appeals tribunal asked detailed questions and the claimant was able to answer them in a way that was detailed, consistent and credible.
In other words, in 91% of cases the claimant won without any new evidence being provided.
A 91% error rate in denial, without new information being required isn’t accidental, that’s a deliberate policy of “deny, deny, deny.”
Whilst I am providing statistics on awards, I should note that 49.7% of ADHD and 72.3% of autism applications eventually receive awards.
So, of course I am going to appeal. Fortunately, the appeal form is available online — I guess the volume was too much to send them out, although it would make sense to simply include it in the initial pack.
Naturally, there will be further blog updates on my progress.
In the meantime, let me just say a grand “Fuck you” to the policy wonk who devised this system. It’s been ten months so far, it’s obviously going to be dragged out for a few more.
“On seven prior occasions this company has denied your claim in writing. We now deny it for the eighth and final time. You must be stupid, stupid, stupid.” — The Rainmaker