Although he marrs it with a gratuitous and unfair attack on Peter Oborne, with whom he disagrees for other reasons, Nick Cohen writes:
At a time of miserable conditions
for the poor, sick and disabled people, the administration of the welfare state is a disaster.
The grand
projects the Department for Work and Pensions has launched since the general
election have been bureaucratic fantasies and practical catastrophes.
Ministers
have wasted hundreds of millions of pounds of public money – Tory ministers,
mark you, who pose as the defenders of hard-working taxpayers.
For all that, Iain
Duncan Smith tramps on
without a thought of changing his ways: a character study in destructive
pig-headedness.
At some level, he must know he is
failing on all fronts.
He and his state-sponsored propagandists pulsate with
aggression. Anyone who tries to investigate his department is met with
obfuscation and intimidation.
Duncan Smith denounced the BBC for publishing a leaked
memo, which showed that the costs of his employment and support
allowance were growing at a formidable pace.
The corporation was a more
committed opponent of welfare reform than Labour, he cried (knowing how quickly
the BBC folds under accusations of political bias).
He hired Richard Caseby, a
former executive at Rupert Murdoch's News UK, as a civil service spin doctor.
"That corporate rightwinger is no more a civil servant than I am Miley
Cyrus," I thought at the time.
So Caseby proved when he went on to
splutter denunciations of the Guardian that had no connection I could see to
his new brief or a civil servant's duty of impartiality.
Duncan Smith has targeted the Trussell Trust, an exemplary
Anglican charity, which has mobilised the conscience of the nation and fed the
hungry.
He and his sly ministers suggested that visitors to food banks were
freeloaders, rather than victims of poverty and the incompetence of Duncan
Smith's department.
As they did it, they were sitting on a government report,
which showed the Trussell Trust was right. Low incomes and benefit delays were
compelling hundreds of thousands of hungry people to beg for food as a
"last resort", it said.
There is a journalistic scandal
here.
The Mail and the Telegraphattacked New Labour
for its manipulation of the media, with considerable justification.
But now
their friends are playing the same tricks, where are the Paul Dacres and Peter
Obornes defending honest reporting from governmental attack?
The journalistic
scandal hides the greater public scandal. Duncan Smith and his placemen have to
intimidate because his department is the administrative equivalent of a failed
state, a collapsed institution, where ministers mouth promises that never and
can never come true.
Earlier this year, with barely concealed incredulity,
Nicholas Wikeley, a judge at the Administrative Appeals Chamber, dismissed an
attempt by Duncan Smith to keep secret a government report on the risk to
public funds and public provision for the needy his vainglorious plans for
universal credit could bring.
He could see "no support" for Duncan
Smith's argument that the electorate should know nothing about them. Outsiders could see every reason why Duncan Smith would
want to censor, however.
Only a few thousand people are on a new credit that is
meant to cover millions. Its computer systems have failed.
About £140m has been
thrown away and Margaret Hodge of the public accounts committee expects that
many millions more will vanish.
The DWP, she said, embarked on a £2.4bn project
"with little idea how it was going to work".
It is not only the universal
credit.
If you think I am being too harsh, the Department for Work and Pensions
annual report, published last week, said that
Duncan Smith's Work Programme was "only helping one in 20 recipients of
disability benefits find a job".
The public accounts committee said
Duncan's Smith personal independence payments scheme had been
"rushed" through and the consequences for terminally ill and disabled
people had been "shocking".
Too often you see the sick and the
ill-educated being told to log on to computers they don't have, to fill in
forms they can't understand for IT systems that don't work.
Duncan Smith will not change.
He is a neurotic
authoritarian who wants to be powerful and expects to be obeyed, while living
with the fear that everyone will dismiss him as a clown if he shows the
smallest weakness.
Those fears were amply realised in 2003.
You may have
forgotten that Duncan Smith was once leader of the Conservative party and saw
himself as a future prime minister.
Then his colleagues showed that, while he
thought of himself as a statesman, they thought of him as an abject failure, a
man who could not distinguish between reality and whatever ideological
programme was animating his mind.
As Michael Gove wrote in the Times in the weeks before his downfall,
whenever he heard Duncan Smith repeating the same tired slogans, without giving
the slightest indication of self-doubt, Kipling's lines on know-nothing,
learn-nothing stupidity came back to him.
"The Dog returns to his Vomit
and the Sow returns to her Mire, And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes
wabbling back to the Fire."
By the time the Conservative party deposed him, Duncan
Smith had barely an ally left. With singleminded fortitude, he rebuilt his
career.
He presents himself now as a great reforming minister rather than a prime
minister, but his vices remain unchanged.
Labour politicians tell a story that captures both his
vanity and his folly.
A few years ago, Duncan Smith met Douglas Alexander,
Rachel Reeves and Stephen Timms. He enthused about his belief in a universal
credit that would merge taxes and benefits.
He would free 6 million people from
the poverty traps of welfare dependency and show them that work made them
better off.
The Labour politicians admitted that universal credit was
a fine idea. They had thought about implementing it many times.
But you had to
merge incompatible IT systems and find a way of updating the information on
millions of people so that Whitehall knew almost instantaneously how much they
were earning, what taxes they should pay and what benefits they should receive.
Reforming a complex system would take years.
If Duncan Smith rushed it he would
be engaging in the vast and self-defeating social engineering the right accused
the utopian left of forcing on the human race.
Duncan Smith would have none of it.
The technicalities
were trifles. All that was needed was the political will.
And he, Iain Duncan
Smith, the man of destiny, had the will to make it work.
"We looked at him
as if he was mad," one of the participants told me.