Rights of the Disabled—and the Realities
1
811 Commentary from Westminster Rights of the Disabled—and the Realities A SOLID and respectable case can be made for the determination of the Health Minister, Mr Barney Hayhoe, to prevent Mr Tom Clarke’s Bill extending the rights of disabled people from arriving on the statute book in anything like the form which its proposer intended. In tabling amendments which, if successful, will water down essential provisions of the Bill to a point where some will all but disappear, Mr Hayhoe in no way intended to challenge the sponsors’ motives. The Government, he assured the standing committee on the Bill two months ago, is wholeheartedly in favour of most of the principles behind it. But as a Government minister and as a practical man, Mr Hayhoe found himself bound to ask two urgent, unpopular questions-can we afford it and how well is it going to work? He took the first chance he got, in the second reading debate on Jan 17, to make it clear that he was not happy on either count. Nor was he alone. In a letter to the Guardian on March 29, for instance, the director of social services for Newcastle upon Tyne, Mr Brian Roycroft, no Elephant and Castle stooge, found the objectives of Mr Clarke’s Disabled Persons (Services Consultation and Representation) Bill no less laudable than those of Mr Alf Morris’s pioneering Chronically Sick and Disabled Persons Bill at the end of the 1960s. But Mr Morris’s Bill, he said, had come at a time when local authorities were expanding; Mr Clarke’s was arriving at a time of standstill or even cutback. The Bill would require local authorities to set up procedures of "almost labyrinthian proportions", diverting the scarce and valuable skills of occupational therapists, doctors, and social workers. It ought, he suggested, to be simplified and introduced only if there were firm guarantees that sufficient money was available. All this echoes what the Minister said himself when he told the standing committee on Jan 29 that the Government would be setting up a consultation exercise to see if the Bill as drafted could be knocked into a more practicable and affordable shape. The consultations did not go quite according to plan. Mr Clarke, who as sponsor of the Bill was able to monitor the responses, says the weight of the testimony which the exercise produced favoured keeping the Bill much as it was, and finding the money to pay for it. Yet the evidence certainly served to confirm Mr Hayhoe’s apprehensions about the possible costs. On the basis of the consultations, he subsequently announced, putting the Clarke Bill on the statute book could cost £ 100 million a year. Now the Government, in its recent prolonged struggles with local authorities over funding, has repeatedly been confronted with the claim that much of the blame for the spending explosion belongs to successive governments for initiating or agreeing to legislation whose effect can only be to dump vast new burdens on ratepayers. If you will the ends, the town halls have been saying, should not you will the means as well? The Morris Bill, warmly though Mr Roycroft now remembers it, provoked precisely that kind of complaint. Thus if the Department of Health and Social Security is ready to see the Clarke Bill’s provisions imposed on town halls, it must now in honour pledge the money to go with them. And in Mr Hayhoe’s considered judgment, it cannot. There are certainly those-Mr Hayhoe, in private, may be one of them-who, looking at the sums handed out in the Budget to people who can scarcely be classed as needy or deserving, cannot quite understand why some portion of this largesse could not have been diverted instead to the service of the disabled. But as a mere Minister of Health, Mr Hayhoe is powerless: Mr Norman Fowler can argue the case in Cabinet, but all Mr Hayhoe can do is to take what he can get. As they contemplate the Minister’s amendments, which in a series of instances remove the rights which the Clarke Bill intended to give the disabled, replacing them by provisions which put much lighter obligations on local authorities, Mr Clarke and his friends are understandably outraged. But should not they, even so, on this analysis, give poor, constrained Mr Hayhoe the benefit of the doubt? Well, at one stage they might just have done so. But the manner in which the Minister appears to have gone about his task has removed any chance of that. His amendments had been expected in the week before the Easter recess. But by the night of Maundy Thursday, as MPs dispersed for the holidays, they had still not reached the Vote Office, from which papers like these are drawn. What had arrived was bad enough-a series of amendments from the Scottish Office Minister, Mr John Mackay, one of which removed the protection of eight of the Bill’s fifteen clauses from disabled people in Scotland. But for England and Wales, there were still no government amendments. The most that could be found was an ominous DHSS press release. The Government would not be willing to implement the provisions of the Bill until happy that they could be paid for. But even that was by no means fatal. The Bill’s supporters had accepted that its introduction might have to be phased. And the press release certainly presupposed that there would be enough left in the Bill to make it, in time, worth implementing. But to Mr Clarke, who almost alone among MPs now knew the contents of the amendments, the press release seemed wilfully misleading. What it did not say was that the Government was wrecking the Bill. Local authorities who ever since Morris had given a high priority to disabled people’s needs would clearly go on doing so. But others, with a record of negligence and sloth, would, if Mr Hayhoe’s changes went through, be safe to continue as before. Had these amendments arrived with many MPs still at Westminster and with press coverage still operating full blast, Mr Clarke would have been well placed to start retaliation. But by timing the tabling of the amendments as it did, the Government had ensured that most MPs would see them only as they returned after the recess and that adverse media comment was likely to be kept to a minimum. This is an old device, shamelessly practised by civil servants whatever government rules. Westminster lobby correspondents have long recognised Maundy Thursday as the day when above all others in the year you need to trawl patiently through the written answers for some nasty piece of news which the Government is hoping no-one outside will spot. In government as in life things are all too often done at the very last minute. And we will certainly be told that tabling amendments on the eve of the recess is at least to be preferred to leaving them even later. Even so, the effect on sponsors of the Bill is to leave them feeling not just deprived but cheated. For them, Mr Hayhoe’s earnest assurances in committee-"the Government are not, as some honourable members have suggested, seeking to wreck the bill or to knock its heart out"-have a sick and sorry taste about them now.
Transcript of Rights of the Disabled—and the Realities
811
Commentary from Westminster
Rights of the Disabled—and the Realities
A SOLID and respectable case can be made for thedetermination of the Health Minister, Mr Barney Hayhoe, toprevent Mr Tom Clarke’s Bill extending the rights ofdisabled people from arriving on the statute book in anythinglike the form which its proposer intended. In tablingamendments which, if successful, will water down essentialprovisions of the Bill to a point where some will all butdisappear, Mr Hayhoe in no way intended to challenge thesponsors’ motives. The Government, he assured the standingcommittee on the Bill two months ago, is wholeheartedly infavour of most of the principles behind it.But as a Government minister and as a practical man, Mr
Hayhoe found himself bound to ask two urgent, unpopularquestions-can we afford it and how well is it going to work?He took the first chance he got, in the second reading debateon Jan 17, to make it clear that he was not happy on eithercount. Nor was he alone. In a letter to the Guardian on March
29, for instance, the director of social services for Newcastleupon Tyne, Mr Brian Roycroft, no Elephant and Castlestooge, found the objectives of Mr Clarke’s Disabled Persons(Services Consultation and Representation) Bill no lesslaudable than those of Mr Alf Morris’s pioneeringChronically Sick and Disabled Persons Bill at the end of the1960s. But Mr Morris’s Bill, he said, had come at a time whenlocal authorities were expanding; Mr Clarke’s was arriving ata time of standstill or even cutback. The Bill would requirelocal authorities to set up procedures of "almost labyrinthianproportions", diverting the scarce and valuable skills of
occupational therapists, doctors, and social workers. It ought,he suggested, to be simplified and introduced only if therewere firm guarantees that sufficient money was available.
All this echoes what the Minister said himself when he toldthe standing committee on Jan 29 that the Governmentwould be setting up a consultation exercise to see if the Bill asdrafted could be knocked into a more practicable andaffordable shape. The consultations did not go quiteaccording to plan. Mr Clarke, who as sponsor of the Bill wasable to monitor the responses, says the weight of thetestimony which the exercise produced favoured keeping theBill much as it was, and finding the money to pay for it. Yetthe evidence certainly served to confirm Mr Hayhoe’sapprehensions about the possible costs. On the basis of theconsultations, he subsequently announced, putting theClarke Bill on the statute book could cost £ 100 million a year.Now the Government, in its recent prolonged struggles
with local authorities over funding, has repeatedly beenconfronted with the claim that much of the blame for the
spending explosion belongs to successive governments forinitiating or agreeing to legislation whose effect can only be todump vast new burdens on ratepayers. If you will the ends,the town halls have been saying, should not you will themeans as well? The Morris Bill, warmly though Mr Roycroftnow remembers it, provoked precisely that kind of complaint.Thus if the Department of Health and Social Security is readyto see the Clarke Bill’s provisions imposed on town halls, itmust now in honour pledge the money to go with them. Andin Mr Hayhoe’s considered judgment, it cannot.There are certainly those-Mr Hayhoe, in private, may be
one of them-who, looking at the sums handed out in the
Budget to people who can scarcely be classed as needy ordeserving, cannot quite understand why some portion of thislargesse could not have been diverted instead to the service ofthe disabled. But as a mere Minister of Health, Mr Hayhoe ispowerless: Mr Norman Fowler can argue the case in Cabinet,but all Mr Hayhoe can do is to take what he can get.As they contemplate the Minister’s amendments, which in
a series of instances remove the rights which the Clarke Billintended to give the disabled, replacing them by provisionswhich put much lighter obligations on local authorities, MrClarke and his friends are understandably outraged. Butshould not they, even so, on this analysis, give poor,constrained Mr Hayhoe the benefit of the doubt? Well, at onestage they might just have done so. But the manner in whichthe Minister appears to have gone about his task has removed
any chance of that. His amendments had been expected in theweek before the Easter recess. But by the night of MaundyThursday, as MPs dispersed for the holidays, they had stillnot reached the Vote Office, from which papers like these aredrawn. What had arrived was bad enough-a series ofamendments from the Scottish Office Minister, Mr JohnMackay, one of which removed the protection of eight of theBill’s fifteen clauses from disabled people in Scotland. But forEngland and Wales, there were still no governmentamendments. The most that could be found was an ominousDHSS press release. The Government would not be willingto implement the provisions of the Bill until happy that theycould be paid for. But even that was by no means fatal. TheBill’s supporters had accepted that its introduction mighthave to be phased. And the press release certainlypresupposed that there would be enough left in the Bill tomake it, in time, worth implementing. But to Mr Clarke, whoalmost alone among MPs now knew the contents of the
amendments, the press release seemed wilfully misleading.What it did not say was that the Government was wreckingthe Bill. Local authorities who ever since Morris had given ahigh priority to disabled people’s needs would clearly go ondoing so. But others, with a record of negligence and sloth,would, if Mr Hayhoe’s changes went through, be safe tocontinue as before.
Had these amendments arrived with many MPs still atWestminster and with press coverage still operating full blast,Mr Clarke would have been well placed to start retaliation.But by timing the tabling of the amendments as it did, theGovernment had ensured that most MPs would see them
only as they returned after the recess and that adverse mediacomment was likely to be kept to a minimum. This is an olddevice, shamelessly practised by civil servants whatever
government rules. Westminster lobby correspondents havelong recognised Maundy Thursday as the day when above allothers in the year you need to trawl patiently through thewritten answers for some nasty piece of news which theGovernment is hoping no-one outside will spot. In
government as in life things are all too often done at the verylast minute. And we will certainly be told that tablingamendments on the eve of the recess is at least to be preferredto leaving them even later.
Even so, the effect on sponsors of the Bill is to leave them
feeling not just deprived but cheated. For them, Mr Hayhoe’searnest assurances in committee-"the Government are not,as some honourable members have suggested, seeking towreck the bill or to knock its heart out"-have a sick and sorrytaste about them now.
