“I’ll try my best.”
“Cheers. I was just wondering what the last job was that you advertised for the police.”
“Well, we had a job advertisement which closed last Friday, and that was for an experienced dog handler.”
“Did you get many applications?”
“Yes, we had over five-hundred applicants for that position.”
“And how many of those applicants were suitable, may I ask.”
“None.”
“None? Why not?”
“Because they didn’t fulfil any of the criteria on the job description. They were just Jobcentre applicants.”
“But that’s just a massive waste of time. Why would anybody apply for a job if they don’t have the necessary qualifications or experience?”
“Is this to do with the DWP attacks?”
“It is, I’m just testing a theory out that one of my detectives has put forward.”
“Well, I can assure you that we waste most of our time sifting applications looking for suitable candidates. This dog-handler job has an application from a guy who has only ever painted cars, and he’s allergic to dogs.”
“So, what’s the point in applying? It’s insane.”
“Because he’ll have to apply for so many a week, or he’ll lose his money.”
“And do the Jobcentre ring up and check?”
“Yes, they do it all the time. They are just wasting everybody’s time. We tell them, and they agree. They know it’s nonsense, we know it is, the poor buggers who just want a job know it too.”
“God, that’s so depressing. Right, thanks a lot.”
“You’re welcome, and good luck catching the guy who’s attacking them. They might be annoying buggers, but they don’t deserve what’s happening!”
“I know. Right. Thanks.” Miller hung up the call and Rudovsky nodded in agreement with the HR advisor.
“This is so fucking stupid.”
“It’s the tip of the iceberg Sir. It’s not just at the Jobcentre, they are making life difficult for everybody on benefits. It’s even worse for people who are on the sick. Seriously, the government are deliberately being twats, and they are relentless with it. It’s the biggest scandal of our time, people are killing themselves as a result. A lot of people!”
“How many?” Miller was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable about this. He preferred things to be straight-forward, and this was starting to sound like a weird conspiracy theory.
“Thousands, Sir. It’s all being swept under the carpet, as you would expect. But deaths of benefit claimants following direct interaction with the DWP are through the roof. There have been plenty of cases publicised, just put DWP deaths into Google, it doesn’t take long.”
Miller leant forward and opened up the web browser on his laptop. He typed the search phrase that Rudovsky had suggested, and sure enough, the search yielded over 5000 results.
“Bloody hell.”
“These people are the most vulnerable in society. They’re out of work, they’re skint, life’s nothing but a struggle, and then the dole stop their money because they’ve not logged into the DWP computer enough times that day. It’s no surprise that so many are finding that suicide is the best option. Do you know, they say you can tell how civilised a society is, by seeing how they treat their prisoners. Well, the fact is Sir, criminals, locked away for doing bad things, they have much better lives than people on benefits. But if you watch telly, the programmes are all about people on benefits going away to Tenerife, and telling all the ones who are working, who can’t afford Tenerife, that they’re the mugs. It’s truly sick what’s happening.”
“Bloody hell Jo, you’re really pissed off about this aren’t you? I mean, really.”
“Oh yes, I am Sir. I hate stuff like this, bullying people. But I’ll tell you what worries me the most, Sir.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m really worried that if we don’t bring him in, the government will have no alternative but to stop the war on the poor.”
Miller looked confused. That didn’t make sense, following the passionate speech that Rudovsky had just made.
“But surely that is what you want? Isn’t that what you go on your political marches for?”
“Well, yes Sir. But we try to achieve things peacefully. What message would it send out to the public if peaceful protests don’t work, but paralysing innocent members of the public does? If you don’t like something, attack people in the street and force the government to do a u-turn. Shit, it would cause pandemonium.”
“Yeah, good point Jo. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“If this guy managed to get the government to submit, it would open the floodgates for martyrs from every cause imaginable to follow suit.”
“Right, thank you Jo, very insightful and informative as always. Now, I need to get on with this team brief, and then I’ve got another press conference to do at eleven.”
“You love it!”
“With the Chief Constable.”
“Oh.”
*****
On Twitter, Facebook, and via various news websites, a letter was going viral. It had been written by a DWP Case Manager. But it wasn’t the contents of the letter which had riled the public. It was the fact that this letter had been sent to the Daily Mail, from a DWP e-mail address, in the middle of the biggest crisis to ever engulf the service, and the Daily Mail had simply ignored it.
Rather than make the story go away, the newspaper’s decision to ignore the letter actually became the story, as the author forwarded it to several other news agencies. This shocking disregard for such an informed opinion led to a barrage of accusations. In particular, that this exclusive communication from a senior DWP employee told a different story than the one which the newspaper wished to present. In short, the newspaper wanted to portray the viewpoint that the DWP activities against the poor were justified, and long over-due. The letter, however, suggested that the DWP staff were not from that school-of-thought at all.
“Dear Sir, I wish to remain anonymous for professional, and in the current climate, personal reasons.
I, along with all of my colleagues, observe the current activities against the DWP with horror, but a sense of wonderment that the public, the press, and the police appear to be so surprised that these horrendous attacks have occurred. We are all fully aware of the pain that the claimants have been going through, we see the tragic consequences, and we are threatened with violence, every single day. We are routinely sent for training courses on how to deal with aggressive, abusive customers, and to courses on how to help suicidal people, where other people, in other industries would be sent on first aid courses.
At present, there is some very sensational reporting, and a desire to paint DWP staff as the bad guys in all of this; I wish to present an alternative point-of-view.
Nobody within the DWP is taking any pleasure from the way that we are being ordered to work. Morale within the service is at an all-time low, staff sickness, prior to this week, has been at an all-time high, and in my thirty years of service, I have never seen so many staff leaving, and so few applications to join.
But, we have to do what our managers tell us, just like any other worker, in any other industry. If the government instructed us that we had to give claimants an all-expenses paid trip around the world, we would do it. We have absolutely no control over government policy, just like a taxi-driver has no control over a drunk vomiting on their back-seat.
The reason that I am writing, is to ask the nation’s reporters to tone it down, and present the facts. What is happening is not down to DWP staff deciding to be cruel, it is not down to any ideas that we have had. We are not responsible for this in any shape or form, and we have absolutely no control over the benefit reforms, just as we have no control over any other government policy.
Please, I implore you to keep this fact in mind when writing your reports. If you absolutely do have to pin the blame on somebody, then that
person is the Secretary of State for Work and Pensions, as you jolly well know.”
This letter was being shared across the internet, all around the world. The motivations of those sharing it differed. Some were keen to call out the inexcusable way that the media controlled the “balance” of the news. Others were desperately keen to stick up for the DWP staff. Others were just interested to hear the views from inside the DWP, and happy to pass on that view to as many people as physically possible.
This latest, sensational development was to be short-lived in the public’s collective psyche however, as the story took on a completely new angle.
Chapter Twenty-One
The media centre at Manchester Police HQ was full, as had been expected. Members of the press were out in force to cover this morning’s update, which was being presented by the Chief Constable, Sir Stephen Foster. It was rare that the Chief held a press conference, and the fact that he was doing so today told its own story. This was a matter of the greatest importance to Manchester Police, but nobody who was gathered could have anticipated what was to come. Even DCI Miller, who was sitting next to Sir Stephen on the raised stage area, was visibly shocked by what the Chief Constable had to say to the journalists, and to the viewers of Sky News and BBC News who were watching the press conference live at home.
The Chief Constable just got on with it.
“Good morning. Thank you for coming along today. The purpose of this morning’s meeting is to make a direct plea to the man who has been attacking people who work at the Department for Work and Pensions. I am talking directly to you, whoever you are, and asking you to stop this right now. You have made your point, in the most violent manner, and you have caused appalling injuries that will make life extremely difficult and uncomfortable for four innocent victims.” The Chief Constable paused and took a sip from his glass of water. He seemed in no hurry to continue, as he calmly considered the next part of his announcement.
“I need you to stop this. I want you to surrender, and hand yourself in. But, before you do, I want to explain that I understand your activity, and while I cannot comprehend how you can act so violently, and so callously, I do want you to know that I can understand to a certain extent, the anger that you must feel, the anger which has developed into this atrocious situation. You obviously have very strong feelings about the injustices that you wish to publicise, and I can understand how anger can manifest itself into mindless violence. Most violent crimes that we deal with in Greater Manchester are caused by anger.”
He took another sip from the glass. “But let me tell you, you are not alone. There are many, many people who share your anger, and your feelings of unfairness. But they do not go around hurting other people, causing such shocking injuries like the ones that you have caused. Here at Manchester City Police, I am the person who has to manage our police force. I have to manage every aspect of our work, from making sure that we have enough police cars, to ensuring that all of our bills are paid on time. Over the past seven years, I have witnessed the most irresponsible, short-sighted and frankly, shambolic decisions made by this government…”
There was an audible gasp around the room. This was extraordinary. The most senior policeman in Greater Manchester was getting something off his chest, and it was in the most unorthodox fashion.
“Due to the completely incompetent way that the government has been slashing the budgets of all public services, I am the man who witnesses complete chaos every day here in my city, as a direct result. I know of very serious incidents, including stabbings and rapes that my officers haven’t been able to attend, because there were not enough officers on duty. I know of a violent assault which took place just last week, and we couldn’t get a police officer to take a statement, because we had none available, and the victim later died, meaning that we will never know what happened, or how, or why. We will probably never bring the person responsible to justice, either. That makes me angry.”
The Chief Constable looked around the room. He wanted that to sink in with the media, and the other police staff in the packed-out media-centre. Most of all, he wanted the viewers at home to get angry about that statement. A man was dead, and the police haven’t done, and cannot do anything about it other than feel anger. It was an incredible thing to announce. But the Chief Constable didn’t seem phased. He continued, talking calmly and concisely.
“This is the second largest city in Britain, we have a population of nearly three million people and on our vans it says that we are fighting crime, and protecting people. Well, to be perfectly honest, I think we should paint over those slogans, as they are meaningless. If I had any budget, I’d replace that phrase on our vans and police cars with “Just trying to muddle through.”
There was an embarrassed hush in the room, but the energy levels were reaching fever-pitch amongst the reporters and technicians who were checking their kit to make sure that this was actually recording. Nobody could believe what they were hearing. It felt strange, it was like watching somebody digging themselves into a bigger hole, and not having the courage to tell them to stop. Everybody was just watching on, wondering if it was really happening. It could be read from the completely expressionless face of DCI Miller, who was sitting beside the Chief Constable, that he felt just as perplexed by this as everybody else. Judging by Miller’s face, this had not been in the script. He looked unsure about which facial expression this announcement required, so he’d opted for one that looked as if his batteries had run out.
The Chief continued with his address to the attacker. “The truth is, I can’t guarantee anybody’s peace of mind, and I cannot run this police service effectively. The entire organisation is in total chaos. Morale is at an all-time low amongst my officers, all of our targets are being missed and there is nothing positive to say. Poundland shops have more police officers than I do.”
He took another sip of his water. DCI Miller suddenly glanced left at the Chief, and appeared visibly shocked by this incredible public address. He returned his face towards the crowd, and resumed the vacuous expression.
“Not only have I lost twenty-per-cent of my front-line staff, I am also seeing a larger work-load, as my officers have to plug the gaps in other areas of public services that are being decimated by the utterly futile cuts. For example, as a result of Mental Health Service cuts, my officers are now spending a lot of their time dealing with hundreds of Mental Health Service Users, protecting them from harming themselves, and others, chasing them all over the district and trying to return them to their inadequate living spaces, knowing they’ll be doing the same thing the next day. As a result of the DWP cuts, my officers are now spending huge amounts of their time dealing with homeless people, and the effects of their drug and alcohol abuse. As a result of the cuts to Youth Services, my officers are wasting lots of their time chasing gangs of bored youths who are hell-bent on causing trouble in their local communities with anti-social behaviour. As a result of the cuts to North West Ambulance Services, my officers are spending time looking after people who have been injured in accidents and falls at home, providing first-aid, care and reassurance until the ambulance staff finally get to the job, sometimes four or five hours later. I could go on, I could tell you lots of things about the crisis that we face, directly because of the irresponsible, and downright stupid actions of the present government.”
Again, the Chief Constable let it hang a moment. He wanted these hammer-blows to really cause damage. After a few, long seconds, he continued. “You don’t have to be Albert Einstein to see that when all my officers are off using the majority of their time doing these other agencies jobs, it leaves very little time for any actual police-work. I wouldn’t trust this government to run a bath, let alone run a country.”
This was unbelievable. It could be read on the faces of everybody in the room, including the police officers and police staff, that the Chief Constable had shocked them all with this incredible address. The Chief continued, talking slowly, calmly, and it felt exclusively
, to the attacker. He sounded totally genuine.
“But now you have started attacking people who work for the DWP, it now means that my police officers are spending most of their time looking for you. They can’t help the mental health service users who have been let down. They can’t help the vulnerable people who have been let down by social services, or reassure the elderly people who are waiting for ambulances. They can’t stop the homeless people kicking seven bells out of each other as the effects of their legal highs wear off. What I’m saying to you, is that it’s a constant struggle, it’s a nightmare situation for me, trying to manage this police force. Why am I saying all this to you? Well, it’s because I’m trying to demonstrate to you that I understand what you are feeling so angry about. I know first-hand that the DWP Welfare Reforms are a complete waste of time and effort, and I also know that the DWP staff feel exactly the same way. They hate the cuts just as much as you. These futile reforms have added an extra burden onto my police service, as our officers are called to try and clear up the mess, attend the domestics and suicide attempts when a claimant’s benefits are stopped for trivial reasons. These reforms will cost many millions more than they’ll ever save. I know what’s happening, and I’m agreeing with you, right now, live on TV, that it is wrong, and it has got to stop. I have with me a letter which I have written this morning to the government.” Sir Stephen held up the letter. The photographer’s bulbs began hissing and popping as they illuminated the piece of paper with bright flashes. It was written on headed Manchester City Police paper.
“It reads, Dear Secretary of State for Welfare and Pensions, I am writing to you because of the horrific attacks which have been happening in Manchester, against members of your department’s staff.
Be under no illusion. This is your fault, and you should take full responsibility for this unacceptable situation. I implore you to call an end to the deliberate and callous activities that your department is carrying out against benefit claimants, with immediate effect, before any more innocent people are hurt.
The Final Cut Page 17
