True compensation is to show some backbone
IAM SO pleased to hear that the Government is clamping down on fraudulent claims in car accidents. You know the ones: bogus demands for fifty shades of whiplash, hurt pride, or whatever… that insurance companies shell out for, often without medical checks, because it’s cheaper than the risk of being taken to court if they refuse.
Compensation for minor whiplash should now be banned or capped in a bid to cut the evergrowing fraud.
I wrote about this in a column (25.03.2015) when, after ignoring dozens of messages about ‘the accident that you had, for which you are entitled to compensation’, I decided to answer the next call.
First I asked where they had got my details. I was told the ‘accident data base’. OK. I was in a minor accident about a year ago. The other driver accepted responsibility, her insurance paid up promptly and I was provided with a courtesy car while mine was repaired. “No one was injured,” I said.
“But there are different levels of compensation,” she insisted. “1 – is serious; 2 – is when you have visited the doctor within 14 days (whiplash, she told me, helpfully). Level 3 pays out for ‘minor discomfort’.”
“I didn’t have any sort of problem,” I said.
“Didn’t you feel stiff or uncomfortable afterwards?” “No, NO, I told you …” “… but you can claim on level 3. You’re entitled to a payment of between £1,000 and £3,500…”
“NO, I’M NOT,” I replied, and put the phone down. No wonder our insurance premiums keep increasing when people are encouraged – almost bullied – into making false claims.
Serious injury, including extreme damage or discomfort, is a different matter, and should be recognised, but well done to this Government for grasping the nettle on this one.
What an evocative phrase that is, and by coincidence, I’ve just read an article which demonstrates that ‘attempting or approaching something with boldness and courage’ (ie grasping the nettle) at any age, can reap rewards
Frank McCourt wrote his memoir Angela’s Ashes when he was 66; Anna Robertson Moses, who exhibited at The Museum of Modern Art in New York, didn’t start painting until she was 76, while Peter Roget published his Thesaurus when he was 73, supervising every update until he died at the age of 90.
And I bet none of them complained of whiplash …