A letter a day to number 10. No 1,532
Wednesday 24 August 2016.
Dear Mrs May,
Paul Marlow is a man who reports he worked for 31 years taking only 2 days off for sickness in all that time, until he developed cancer in 2002. Since then he has had 42 operations and is suffering from hepatitis B, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, a medical drug addiction and other health problems and yet the DWP found him fit for work. Five weeks after the DWP stopped his support payments he has now won his fight for the reinstatement of his social security payments.
The Oxford Times reports, ‘The Department for Work and Pensions originally said they found Mr Marlow fit for work and added decisions were not based on the condition of claimants, but on what they can do’.
This is an explicit admission, as many have experienced, that the DWP routinely ignores medical evidence even to rebranding ‘Sick Notes’, with the Orwellian ‘Fit Notes’. If someone can nod their head they are capable of hitting a machine button with it and turn out egg cups, or whatever. The fact they might be dying in the process is neither here nor there.
Of course this is all part of a set piece gouged out by ‘Lord’ David Freud and the outlaw USA based Unum Provident insurance company to rebrand sickness and disability as ‘malingering’ and the ‘motivation for claimants of disability benefits’.
Whilst this whole filthy business began under ‘New Labour’, in the unlovely hands of Iain Duncan Smith it rapidly expanded into Britain’s secret penal system imposing heavier fines than the entire UK legal system and depriving people of the means of survival, something no court in the land would do.
Dr David Webster of the University of Glasgow had the following to say, “The British political class has come to believe that benefit claimants must be punished to make them look for work in ways the state thinks are a good idea.”
This arrogant authoritarian paternalism is an affront to humanity. It is little more than a psychotic perversion from over privileged and over bearing elitists who are too big for their own britches. Life is not a sweat shop for profit.
As I’ve pointed out on numerous occasions, the philanthropy of the poor to the rich far surpasses anything we might claim in feeble benefits, yet for which we are despised.