Benefit Thieves

I’m mad, mad as hell, that’s what I am today. Mad with the people who make some distinction between the working poor and the unemployed poor. Well when I was working, I was part of the working poor. On paper I earned way above the national average, but that’s no use when you live in London. The threshold for tax credits and housing benefit was way below my income, so I subsisted.

Housing costs are the problem; I pay/have paid a fortune in rent. That’s not because I enjoyed giving my money away hand over fist to a buy-to-let landlord. No it’s because there was no affordable housing.

If you were poor in the 70s and 80s. There were options. Housing co-ops, Social Housing, Squats. Or just affordable rents. In the 80s and 90s I could get a mortgage, because property prices were realistic. I paid £200 a month in 1997 for my mortgage, and that was a 90% one. I would be pushed to find a weekly rent for that these days. I’m talking about North London, not anywhere else.

I sold my last house when my relationship broke down. But once everything was divided-up, there was little left over for a deposit. So I went back to renting, and that’s where I find myself now.

Because I’m unemployed, Housing Benefit pays my rent. But everything else comes out of the £64 a week. And that requires some serious creative accounting. I’ve sold things, I’ve accepted handouts from family and I’ve even tried to sell my body.

I’ve been close to getting work, had a couple of interviews. Been promised a job working in Europe, but that’s remains just a promise.


My current strategy involves getting part time work, using one of my old skills. One I’ve not actually practiced for thirteen years. Because of the huge gap in my CV when I did something completely different; it’s unlikely I’m going to get any response. But I’m trying, trying to be creative.

A friend of mine was made redundant a month before me. He has three kids, a mortgage and does not receive housing benefit. Or rather he receives a sum that covers part of his mortgage repayment. The shortfall, that includes the cost of supporting a family, is made up by relatives.

Like me he’s at the wrong end of 40. Ageism in our profession is rife, and never discussed. But that’s the great buttress holding both of us back. When a prospective employer sees our respective CVs, he/she does not see a wealth of experience; they see a tired-out old man. And even if we look young and healthy, have our own teeth and hair; we are dammed by the chronology on our CVs.


Before accusing people of being benefit thieves; consider their circumstances first. There is a huge amount of wasted talent, consigned to the dustbin. So employers can employ cheaper, younger, team-players (yes another euphemism for not being old).

And to repeat the theme of an earlier post; everything I have learned is just floating about in the ether. I have virtually a photographic memory for facts, and can put these facts to creative use. But the only openings for people like me appear to involve handing out wire-baskets at supermarket entrances.