A clean break – the brown envelope

People who have had hip surgery are given ‘hip precautions,’ or things they must not do while they are healing. One of the strictly forbidden activities is picking anything up from the floor. So, Mother knows that when the post comes, she must just leave it and I will pick it up and give it to her when I come in. This morning the only post was one of those brown envelopes that most people recognise as coming from government departments.

Mother receives Disability Living Allowance (DLA) and Pension Credit. I knew, as soon as she was rushed into hospital after her fall, that I needed to ring the various helplines and inform them of her change in circumstances, ie that she was now in hospital. Those phone calls were among the many tasks I had to take care of in the first day or so that she was in Colchester General. I was informed that there would be no change to the benefits as long as she was not in hospital for longer than 28 days. As soon as she was discharged, after 13 days, I rang the helplines to let them know, and was informed that there would, indeed, be no change to the payments.

The letter I handed her seemed to say that her pension credit was being reduced by over 70%, with no explanation other than saying that the amount she needed to live on had been changed. This would make a difference to her monthly income of about £200. There were pages and pages of what looked like information and justification, providing mathematical workings out and statutory limits, but there was nothing at all to say why the drastic change was to take place on 24th June.

Luckily, I was there so was able to get on the phone straight away to ask some questions. We spoke to two different branches of the helpline, with me doing most of the talking and Mother just answering the security questions. I have to say that both operatives who dealt with us were kind, clear, efficient and helpful. The second one explained that this letter had been triggered, possibly prematurely, by my advice of her hospitalisation and was going to be followed by another one saying that the threatened changes would now not take effect as she was home again. The reduction was due to the Severe Disablement Benefit, which she normally receives but would not be entitled to after 28 days in hospital. Fair enough. Everything was cleared up and we felt happy, after only a very few moments of consternation.

My concern is for other elderly, disabled and recently hospitalised people who may not have had the resources to clear this confusion up so easily or quickly. They might have simply accepted that their income was going to be reduced, and turned down the heat or decided to eat less. They might have waited for days until their relative, friend or social worker visited and helped them make the phone calls. They might have read the letter over and over and not been able to make sense of it, even when referring to previous correspondence. After all, that was my position, before I got on the phone, even with the advantage of a legal qualification and years of experience dealing with bureaucracy.

How hard would it be to word a letter something like this?

Dear Mrs Stack, We understand that you have recently gone into hospital. As you know, some of your benefits will be affected if you stay in hospital for more than 28 days. If you are still in hospital on xxxth June, the situation will change as detailed below. If you have been discharged and have already informed us, please ignore this letter as your benefits will be unchanged. If you have been discharged and have not yet informed us, please do so immediately so that we can ensure there is no interruption to your payments. Please telephone us if there is anything you do not understand.

I’m not talking about ‘plain English.’ The words used in the letter were as plain as could be. There was no jargon. But jargon is not the only problem. I would like to see clear, logical explanations given from the point of view of the person receiving the letter, rather than the point of view of the person who works inside the system and is explaining it from the inside out. Anyone who has ever read one of these letters will know exactly what I mean.

I know about the cuts to public spending and I know that civil servants love complexity and obfuscation. So this is not a serious proposal. But I would love to have the job of re-writing those letters! I would love to know that frightened, unwell and lonely elderly people would not have to fret because they received a letter they couldn’t understand. Language is a powerful thing; let’s remember that and use it wisely and carefully.