Case Notes #3: The Pensioner Dispatch

(Photo – Manchester Evening News)

We need to talk about pensioners…

Some pensioners have what many might perceive to be rather eccentric ways about them. And I mean this warmly and with affection.

If I describe some of these ‘ways’ you may recognise them.

For example, despite having enough income to do a decent shop each week, under no circumstances does pensioner X buy any meat or fish that isn’t yellow-stickered and on its last legs (or fins).

The same pensioner regularly endures unexplainable and mysterious bouts of vomiting.

Pensioner X’s mobile phone is circa 10 years old. By modern standards, an antique, no older than that even, a relic. It regularly does things during video calls like, for example, switching off the camera, muting X’s voice, putting the other party on hold, losing charge, and freezing solid – yet, despite having sufficient funds to buy a replacement, pensioner X would sooner resort to communication by carrier pigeon or smoke signal than purchase even a modestly priced working replacement.

Pensioner X regularly surveys the auto trader-style adverts and considers fantasy-buying a fantasy car – in much the same way I occasionally look at Lyme Hall and consider it the home I should have had if only life was fair. Most recent musings include a Tesla (£20k), and a Jaguar E-type. Trouble is, he only does about 4 miles a year going to and from the supermarket.

Then there’s the declining health. For at least the last 15 years, pensioner X has had not just a foot, but a full leg in the grave, maybe both legs. The NHS is ‘useless’, everyone from the GP to the physiotherapist who visits him at home and tells him to move a bit more; they are all utterly useless. He is fastidiously and longitudinally moribund.

Pensioner X would rather die trying to manoeuvre the vacuum across the carpet with his COPD, bad back and dodgy hip, than even remotely dream of asking for help, let alone paying someone to do it for him. If he has to sit for an hour on the oxygen cylinder afterwards to get his breath back then so be it. He’s not having strangers coming in, ‘rifling’ through his personal possessions. No, sir.

I say – just buy the damn steak dad. I love my dad. He can’t help the fact he got old and irascible. We lost mum 5 years ago and despite the endless fighting they did, he is lost without her. He complains endlessly about everything, but strangely hasn’t complained to me about losing the winter fuel payment. (I am the leftist, ‘Marxist’, ‘Jeremy-Corbyn-loving’, ‘Trot’ after all.) So it’s unusual that he hasn’t laid the blame for this decision at the door of lefties like me. But no mention.

The fact is, he doesn’t seem to care what money comes in and what goes out; only that his bills are paid and no-one is knocking at the door. He stopped opening post years ago.

I was in the company of what initially appeared to be a bunch of friendly, sociable pensioners of varying ages last week, (my dad would hate the idea of this but might actually enjoy it if he gave it a chance.) They regularly get together to catch up and put the world to rights in the way only they can. They go on days out. They have ‘guest speakers’ who come to talk to them about things.

Last week, it was me and two colleagues, and we were talking about the loss of winter fuel payments (WFPs) and what assistance there is for hard-up pensioners.

One thing they all agreed on was how pissed off they were at the loss of this £200 or £300 to help them with energy costs. (They’re not big fans of having their pensions taxed either.)

However, in this particular group – and I refer only to the pensioners in this group (although I would wager they are a representative group for some of their peers) – the ire was directed at the loss of the WFP rather than the fear of how they would manage without it.

I’d better explain…

‘I was sensible, I saved, i made provision for my retirement. It gets you nowhere.’

I mean, no? It gets you a pretty good income and lifestyle in your retirement, surely?

I did a benefit calculation for this lady. She had a state pension and an occupational pension, and a substantial pot of savings (tens of thousands). It didn’t take long to determine that she wouldn’t qualify for Pension Credit (PC). Not in a million years. She was incredibly disappointed, and dismayed that being sensible and making excellent financial provision for her retirement was ‘punished’ by the government’s withdrawal of the £200 WFP.

And yet she had the income of an average working person, a house owned outright and reasonably good health to enjoy what will hopefully be a long and happy retirement. The rueful sense of being punished for doing the right thing didn’t make sense to me.

Another pensioner also had a modest pension on top of her state pension. She would potentially have qualified for Pension Credit…were it not also for the tens of thousands she held in savings.

She had a health condition; COPD. So I probed a bit as to how this impacted her – getting breathless etc.

‘No I’m as a fit as a fiddle, thanks.’ She said while telling another pensioner to ‘bugger off and stop listening to my private conversation’.

- ‘Don’t you tell me to bugger off!’

‘But,’ I persist, despite the full blown row now going on, ‘don’t you get out of breath when you go upstairs, find the garden difficult to manage?’

‘Well of course I do!’ She said, ‘but I’m not – Oh piss off Bertie – claiming Attendance Allowance. It feels like I’d be putting my hand in the cookie jar for something that’s not rightfully mine and I won’t do that.’

I tried explaining what Attendance Allowance is for but she was having none of it. Instead she spoke at length about what a nosey-parker ‘Mouth almighty’ Bertie was. You don’t go toe-to-toe with pensioners like this if you value your life. And I do, so I didn’t.

A third lady told me about her struggles and how she simply won’t be putting the heating on this winter. She’s going to wear multiple jumpers and even coats if necessary, and she has a plug-in portable electric heater which will go with her, room to room, as needed.

She never gets any help from anyone. The Council are rubbish. The social landlord is rubbish and when I suggested she take up another issue with her ward Councillor, she spat out the Councillor’s name with incredulity and declared: ‘she’s shite!’

It was only later that I was able to check and discover that she has been in receipt of pension credit for the last 10 years. £300 will be on its way to her very soon. And I am certain she still won’t turn the heating on.

There was one person who benefitted from advice that she could qualify for Pension Credit if she claimed Carers Allowance – although she won’t get it because of the overlapping benefit rule. However it should give her an entitlement to with the carer addition for her underlying entitlement. Ugh, it’s all so complicated isn’t it?

Another couple, bravely claiming to be doing just fine infront of the group, privately confided that they were really struggling and, for them, a claim for PC will be made.

Another two will claim Attendance Allowance, which will help them through this winter no doubt.

But they absolutely don’t want to claim anything really. They are proud of not claiming benefits (very much spoken like a dirty word) and I got the sense that the WFP being taken off those that will no longer qualify feels like a mark of disrespect from the government. An insult, even.

They’ve lived long and eventful lives, they’ve contributed, they’ve done their bit, and little things like free bus passes, and a free TV licence (as was), feels like a just acknowledgement for surviving thus far. There are aches and pains and difficulties doing the things they used to do. They’ve lost family and friends and loved ones – they’ve been through hard times; the WFP may not be much but removing it feels like a kick in the teeth.

I also got a real sense of people being completely disassociated from their own savings. It’s their money, but they won’t touch it with a barge pole. I would guess that this is money they want to leave behind, for others to inherit one day. But if this was my relative, facing a bleak winter with a very palpable fear of utility bills, I would be urging them to use their savings to keep warm and well, and well-fed. Buy the good steak. Have the fresh fish. Chuck out the mouldy bread and treat yourself to something extremely nice. Enjoy it while you can.

Of course, this isn’t the story of all pensioners; far from it. Another gentleman I ran a benefit check for missed out on entitlement to PC by £2 per week.

That was incredibly disappointing. Someone who is absolutely going to struggle this winter and who no longer qualifies for that vital help to pay the energy bills.

The cliff edge is harsh and unforgiving. A taper system would be better. When there are no savings to fall back on, we know the prospect of a cold winter is potentially a life or death situation for some. We’ve seen the headlines. We know that people get ill and admitted to hospital, or die, freezing to death and hungry. We will do what we can via the Household Support Fund to help this gentleman, but I do fear for all those pensioners who don’t have the means and don’t do the social gatherings, and fall through the gaping holes in the safety net, alone and cold.

I wish there was some way to reach them in particular, but how? Some just don’t and won’t ask for help. Some can’t. Some don’t know how to. Some have no-one looking out for them. I wonder if they are in the minority and most are like the pensioners I had coffee with? I fear it might be the other way round. We must do more to protect these people. To look after all those, of any age, who simply can’t afford to make very basic ends meet. Over to you, Labour.