About two weeks ago, my morning kicked off at 6:45 a.m. in a quiet neighborhood near Bury, Greater Manchester. I was there to follow Julia, a domiciliary care worker, during her early morning visits. Her first stop was the home of a 93-year-old woman. “She’ll be asleep in bed,” Julia mentioned to me. In just half an hour, she had a lot to do: wake her, get her dressed, handle any nighttime accidents, make her breakfast, and of course, have a good chat to get her communicating.
Julia had a challenging week ahead, working seven days and caring for between 10 and 15 clients each shift. Most were elderly, but she also cared for a 42-year-old mother recovering from a stroke. As we traveled from one home to another, Julia opened up about the constant pressure she felt. It wasn’t just the care she had to provide but also the tight budgets that dictated her every move.
Our discussions often circled back to a few key points. Bury council, like many others, was struggling financially. Just over a year ago, they admitted to being in “financial distress” with no improvement in sight. Care budgets were stretched thin while care workers were paid just around £12 an hour for overwhelming amounts of work. Local bureaucrats set up grueling schedules that hardly left any room for personal interaction.
Adding to the strain, the new financial year brought an increase in employers’ national insurance contributions, thanks to Rachel Reeves. Last week, Labour had turned down amendments proposed by the Liberal Democrats, which aimed to exempt hospices, GP surgeries, and care providers from these hikes. Such spikes in costs threatened to push services like Julia’s to their breaking point in Bury and similar areas.
Later that day, I visited the offices of Homecare Services, Julia’s employer, and met Leanne, one of the managers. The urgency in their small Ramsbottom office was palpable. “Our accountants are calculating how long we can hang on before we have to notify the local authority,” Leanne shared. “We can’t keep paying wages without funding.” She paused before adding, “The social care sector will collapse… in a few months, places might start shutting down.”
Despite being far from Whitehall, the impact of decisions taken there was evident in people’s day-to-day lives. While debates around the spring financial statement and Reeves’s fiscal forecast dominated headlines, a deeper human impact lay beneath the numbers. Increasing numbers were frightened and puzzled as to why ministers seemed indifferent to the human consequences of their choices.
Since the reduction of winter fuel payments last year, the government seemed to have embraced this dismissive approach. The language of hope or even comfort was notably absent among senior Labour figures. Instead, they appeared to champion fiscal discipline and issue bureaucratic orders couched in abstract terms: “tough decisions,” the need to “kickstart the economy,” and an overarching goal to “stabilize the public finances.”
Meanwhile, back from my social care visit, discussions heated up over the proposed cuts to disability and sickness benefits. I spoke with a representative from the National Autistic Society about recent changes to personal independence payment eligibility, focusing on the daily living component set to be slashed.
This approach treated human lives as a series of cold metrics, sometimes reaching absurd levels. Assessments scored individuals from zero to 12 on tasks described by descriptors like “can prepare and cook a simple meal” or “needs help to wash or bathe.” A score of eight qualified for a lower rate of £72.65 a week, while 12 secured £108.55.
But all that could change if the government had its way. According to the new green paper, eligibility for Pip would require scoring at least four points in one daily living activity. This oversimplified system overlooked many nuanced needs, particularly among people with conditions like learning disabilities or autism. Essentially, the definition of disability was being rewritten to save money.
Under the Tories, the narrative critiqued austerity and the harsh treatment of vulnerable individuals—rooted in privilege-induced ignorance. With Labour now in power, the story was different. They seemed to represent a bureaucracy that believed societal complexities could be reduced to statistics, focusing on technocratic efficiency. The results? A government disconnected from the intricacies of real life.
With discussions buzzing about changes to special educational needs and NHS reforms, there’s concern about what might be next on the chopping block. More worryingly, it seems there’s a belief in Downing Street that embracing artificial intelligence could rejuvenate the UK. Keir Starmer’s vision of “totally rewiring government” seems promising in thought, but in practice, given the administration’s lack of human touch, it might be more daunting than anticipated.
John Harris is a columnist for The Guardian. His latest book, “Maybe I’m Amazed: A Story of Love and Connection in 10 Songs,” will be released this Thursday. To support The Guardian and The Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
