Appeals are just a way to keep poor in their place
APPEALING a decision is a barrel of laughs.
On a number of occasions in my life – whether applying for benefits, being given community service by a judge or being abruptly sacked by an employer – I’ve been assured of my right to “appeal”.
Sometimes, I’ve even been sent a nice letter encouraging me to do so. But despite whatever grounds existed to form the basis of any appeal, I never pursued one.
There was one time – after I got a threatening letter from the DWP claiming I’d been overpaid thousands of pounds in benefits and had to pay it back right away – when I did successfully appeal but that was thanks to the help of a welfare rights officer.
Oddly enough, it turned out that as soon as the welfare rights officer appealed, the entire claim was dropped by the DWP as they had, in fact, no evidence to support their claim. That experience confirmed my lifelong suspicion that appeals processes are not quite what they seem.
The exams fiasco got me thinking about what people in authority really mean when they inform us of our right to appeal.
On the one hand, they are drawing our attention to a process by which we may formally contest a decision we feel is unfair. That we have rights and a means to hold decision-makers accountable.
What they are also doing is banking on the well-understood fact that many people who can appeal, and might even be successful, will not go through with it. It’s a game.
Appeals processes are arduous, time-consuming, stressful and often costly endeavours. Organisations are legally obliged to provide an appeals process but they are not obliged to make it easy or cheap.
Before the exams fiasco, and well before Covid-19, if a pupil wanted to appeal an exam result, they would expect to pay between £40 and £50 for the privilege.
Last year, it was revealed about half of people with disabilities who appealed a DWP decision were successful.
More than 550,000 people won benefits appeals at tribunals between 2013 and 2018. That’s insane. How could half a million vulnerable people have been handed down the wrong decision?
Surely not because the DWP understands a majority of their clients do not possess either the means, the know-how or the confidence to take them on?
And the rest likely have no expectation of being treated fairly because their experience of being working-class, or poor, tells them this is “just the way it is”.
Let’s be frank, appeal processes are primarily a means of filtering out the legitimate complaints of disadvantaged people in law, welfare, employment and education.
The system of legal aid is less generous than ever and welfare conditionality has been dialled up to 11.
The recent exams fiasco, which went into overdrive when pupils were told they had a right to “appeal”, is the tip of the iceberg.
Appeal processes act as a drainage system – flushing thousands of people out, creating even more sharp elbow room for the affluent.
Anywhere it appears disadvantaged groups have advanced, been granted rights, or enfranchised in some other way, you’ll often find a bureaucratic obstacle course that includes an “appeals” process acting as a safety valve.
It provides a veneer of due process and accountability while stemming any surge in expectation that those with the least are going anywhere but down.