The Crisis 1

Prime Minister David Brain got off the aeroplane at London City Airport.  Two journalists rushed up to him, a man and a woman dressed in suits, the woman holding a camera, the man holding a cordless microphone.
"Prime Minister," said the male journalist, "what are you going to do about The Crisis?"
"One hardly thinks that the present recession should be called 'The Crisis.'  Isn't that rather too strong a word for it?"
"Prime Minister, there are 7 million unemployed.  That's unsustainable.  There'll be lots of starving families."
"Starving families?  You're never going to have starving families in the UK."
"Your government has made cut back after cut back after cut back.  For how long are we going to have a welfare state?"
"I believe that there are some people who need to live from the public purse.  I believe in the National Health Service.  That has always been part of the British way of doing things.  I seek to get rid of waste in things like Housing Benefit."
"Will you tell the patients who are camped in tents outside your local hospital how much you believe in the National Health Service?"

Duke and Zowie sat at the coffee table having their elevenses.  Duke opened a letter and began reading it to himself.  He almost dropped his coffee.
"The pension company have gone bust.  The company that administers my pension are in receivership.  My pension will be stopped."
"How did this happen?" asked Zowie.
"They've had interest rates at zero for absolutely decades.  Pension companies have to invest their money in something with a good return, other companies that make silly investments, who lend consumer credit irresponsibly.  That is what they've been doing for 30 years.  Well, they've run out of time, haven't they?"  Duke looked at the letter again, reading it slowly.  "Royal Standard Pensions invested a lot of money in underwriting car finance companies.  Car finance companies have suffered severe financial difficulties.  This has impacted on Royal Standard Pensions."
"Duke, if you don't have your pension you won't be able to pay the mortgage.  It lasts until you're 85.  And what are we going to do for money?  We can't live on your state pension.  I don't have a pension at all."

Duke and Zowie turned on the television to watch the news.
"Is the situation in the National Health Service a Humanitarian Crisis?  I'm talking to the International Development Leader of the Red Cross, Jeremy Fisher.  Mr. Fisher, we've heard a lot of people use the word crisis, this morning.  Is that too strong a word?"
"I seriously think I used the word Humanitarian Crisis very carefully, and without any hint of hyperbole.  The NHS is a Humanitarian Crisis.  The tents outside our NHS hospitals remind me very much of the refugee camps I have seen in other parts of the world.  It's one thing to have tents outside hospitals in the summer, but we are deeply concerned about what will happen when the winter comes.  Patients could be dying of hypothermia.  The situation isn't unlike a refugee camp in Italy or Greece."
"The government said, today, that it would not be giving any money to bail out private pension companies who were in danger of going bankrupt.  Many pension companies invested money in underwriting car finance companies - "
" - Tell me about it!" shouted Duke.  The picture changed to the leader of the Labour Party, Mark Lennon, who was standing in the House of Commons.
"I propose to create a Community Task Force.  We will give unemployed people their benefits in return for working in swimming pools, leisure centres, libraries, museums and old people's homes, all things that this government has closed down."  The television went back to the studio, where Mark Lennon was sitting with an interviewer.
"Some people say that Mark Lennon isn't your real name."
"Where did you get that idea from?"
"They say that you changed your name to Mark Lennon because you listened to lots of John Lennon records and are a Marxist Leninist."
Mark Lennon burst out laughing.  "I wouldn't believe everything you read on tabloid websites."
"The left wing seem to be strongly supporting a policy they opposed in the past.  Wouldn't this be slave labour in return for benefits?"
"It's better than having no benefits at all.  This government is removing benefits from many single unemployed people with their new Intelligent Benefits System or, as most people call it, IBS."
"What would your Community Task Force do?"
"They'd create the kind of public services this country used to have.  They'd run old people's homes so the hospitals wouldn't be full of tents.  They'd run libraries, museums and swimming pools."
"But if there were 7 million of them, surely there wouldn't be enough work for all of those people?"
"Of course there would.  People don't even have their bins collected by the council anymore.  The landlord has to hire a skip and put it outside in the street.  They'd empty the bins, they'd tidy up the parks where the plants are overgrown and you can't walk down the path, they'd repair the holes in the road.  There's plenty for them to do."
"You'd have to pay benefits to 7 million people.  How could you afford it?"
"I'd put up income tax."
"The tabloids say you'd put it up to 35%.  That's electoral suicide.  No politician would ever do that."
"I may be the Looney Left Wing Marxist From Liverpool, according to those websites, but at least I'm leading in the opinion polls.  A quarter of the population of this country are unemployed.  We shall see what is electoral suicide, Mr. Hanrohan, in the next election, we shall see."  Mark Lennon struck his fist on the table.
"I'll wonder if he'll win," said Duke.
"Mark Lennon is a communist and a complete pacifist," said Zowie.  "No one would ever vote for him.  The opinion polls don't always tell the truth.  I don't think people would want to pay 35% income tax, even if there was an economic crisis."
"If a quarter of the population are unemployed, that's enough to swing an election," said Duke.

A few weeks later another letter arrived.  It was from the Bank.  Duke knew what it would be about.  He led Zowie to the coffee table.
"Do you want a cup of tea?" he asked.
"Yes," said Zowie.  Duke went to make her a cup of tea, leaving the letter on the table.  He returned with two cups of tea.
"We haven't been paying the mortgage," said Duke.  He opened the letter and began reading it to Zowie.  "The government has said that it will not bail out banks that are in financial difficulty.  The bank has therefore decided to sell any property which is in mortgage arrears to a private property developer.  Although the property would only be sold for a fraction of its true value, this would raise sufficient revenue for the bank to continue trading.  Without this money, the bank would be forced into receivership."
"Well, I never," said Zowie.
"That's not the worst of it."  Duke continued reading.  "You have 3 months in which to find alternative accommodation."
"How are we going to do that?  3 months.  And we'll be on Benefits.  How are we ever going to find a flat?  Are we entitled to any benefits?  How does it work if they're selling the house for less than it's worth?"
"I've paid two thirds of the value of this house," said Duke.  "They only have to sell it for a third of what it's worth and they recover their losses.  It's a great idea, if you're the bank."

That evening Zowie phoned her grandson.  19 year old Colin appeared on the screen.
"Hello Colin."
"Hello Grandma."
"Can you talk me through this IBS computer thing?  I'm totally confused by it."  Colin pressed a few buttons on his phone and the Intelligent Benefit System website appeared in the corner of the screen.
"What do you not understand?"
"It asks if you have any immediate relatives who are still living.  Grown up children, siblings, parents.  Where do they live?  How many people live with them?  How many bedrooms does their house have?"
"Grandma, they want to know if anyone in your family has a spare room they could put you in."
"What's this?  Do you consent to a DNA test?"
"When you make a claim for benefits you have to go to the local Jobcentre in person and spit into a tube."
"Then what do they do with it?"
"They'll run it through the national DNA database."
"Do the police have a national DNA database?"
"No Grandma, the Jobcentres do.  They'll run your DNA through the national DNA database to find out if you're telling the truth about how many close relatives you have."
"I need to tell them where I live now, what my relationship is with the property, tenant, owner, friend or relative of resident."
"You and Grandad own the property."
"They want to know my reasons for wanting to leave."
"It's Repossession of Property, Grandma.  If you go on to the next page, you can see a list of reasons why people can claim benefits to help them cover the cost of rent."
"Family Home is Overcrowded, Domestic Abuse, Repossession of Property.  What if you don't have a family home?  What if you were an orphan, or had no surviving relatives?"
"You'd tick the box that says Unintentionally Homeless, Grandma.  But you will just need to tick Repossession of Property."
"Colin, it's asking me all these questions about who I live with and how much money they have."
"That's because the amount of benefit you get is based on household income.  If you live with your parents, and your dad is a doctor, you won't get anything."
"What do I put?  What do I get?"
"Just write down the amount of Grandad's pension.  That's the only income you've got.  And send them the bank statements for the last 3 months."
"Why is there an advert for the Blue Cat credit card?"
"You'll only get your benefits at the end of the month after you make the application.  When you and Grandad move, the landlord's going to want 2 months rent up front.  You need the Blue Cat credit card, Grandma.  You'll need it to pay the rent in advance.  If you were claiming Universal Credit, you could also use it for some money to live on while you're waiting for the claim."
"I didn't think you could have a credit card if you were unemployed."
"The Blue Cat's a special credit card for people on DSS.  It has a fixed limit of £1100 and a 66% interest rate.  I would advise you to pay a lot more than the minimum £50 a month.  You could end up taking 20 years to pay off £1100."
"Colin, I'm looking for a house on this link and there don't seem to be any within 5 miles of the city centre.  I thought there'd be lots of houses to rent."
"It's only showing you landlords who accept DSS, with properties less than £260 a month, Grandma.  I normally set that thing to 30 miles from the city centre."
"Ooh.  I can see one flat and it's in Oldham.  I thought there'd be a whole list of them.  Is this thing working okay?"
"It is working, Grandma.  That's the only house that's available."
"How's that?  All the people on DSS in Yorkshire can't go to live in one flat in Oldham, can they?"
"That's just today.  You've got 3 months to move out.  Have a look at that website every day.  New things come up on it all the time."

Duke and Zowie arrived to look at a flat in a small village.  The landlord showed them up the stairs.
"This is the middle of nowhere," said Zowie.
"You can hardly say that," said the landlord.  "There's a train to the city centre every hour.  In fact, there's a train to two city centres every hour.  Manchester or Sheffield, take your pick."
"It takes an hour to get there," said Zowie.  The landlord led them into the bedroom.  "Oh look, the bed's in the kitchen."
"It's a studio," said the landlord.
"What is a studio?"
"A studio is a room that can be either a bedroom, a kitchen or a dining room."  The landlord operated a button like a light switch on the wall.  The bed lifted up into the wall.  "I advise that you lift up the bed during the day, and set out the picnic table and chairs that are in this cupboard.  Then you have plenty of room to use the fitted kitchen units, and a pleasant, spacious dining area."  Duke helped the landlord set out the picnic table and chairs.
"Well, it's a bit small," said Zowie.
"I thought an apartment was legally required to have a size of 37 square metres," said Duke.
"It does, Sir" said the landlord, "if you include the stairs."
"I thought a dwelling had to have a sense of space."
"It does, Sir, if you lift up the bed.  The room does not feel at all cramped now, Sir."  They all sat down around the picnic table.  "Fancy a cup of tea?"  The landlord made some tea with a kettle on one of the kitchen units, taking some tea bags he had bought out of one of the cupboards, anxiously trying to appease the situation.
"Milk, no sugar," said Duke.
"Same for me," said Zowie.
"The family downstairs will cause you no trouble at all.  I think their Dad's a teacher of some sort."
"The family downstairs?" asked Duke.  "There is a family, with children, living on the ground floor of this tiny little house."
"The robots wouldn't build anything that wasn't up to Building Regs," said the Landlord.  "The lower floor of the house was extended and then converted into two bedrooms, a small one for the parents, a spacious one for the children, and a kitchen/dining room.  My boss is a billionaire.  He bought this whole village for cash."
"Won't some of the houses be empty for a long time?" asked Duke.
"He'll sell some of them in 10 years time, for an absolute fortune.  He lives in Monte Carlo.  He doesn't pay any tax.  In the meantime, just to have a regular income stream, we're converting a few of them into flats."
"Duke," said Zowie, "we need this flat.  I don't care if it's tiny, I don't care if the man who owns the company has an enormous amount of money and lives in a far off tax haven, we can't afford to argue.  A two bedroom council flat in a 1960s tower block in the centre of Sheffield is not an option for us."  Duke smiled.  He took the card with the blue cat on it out of his pocket.  "Take the first 2 months rent."