Combatting the punishing welfare system

This week, the Antipoverty Centre (@antipovertycent) is highlighting people’s personal experiences of social policy. This article by Sophi talks about how the system of Job Service Providers and mutual obligations rob people of their autonomy and dignity, and calls for solidarity among unemployed workers to support each other and secure our rights. Sophi is a disabled nonbinary person based in Victoria with over a decade of experience dealing with JSPs.

Living month to month as a jobseeker forces you to contend with some difficult contradictions. At first you’re sold the idea of a welfare system that exists to benefit you, to help you live in between periods of work and to help those who for whatever reason cannot find suitable work.

You’re sold the idea that you’re being given free money and services to help you, and that you should be thankful for the assistance. It sounds like a wonderful thing, and so whenever something feels a little bit off, you’re told it’s inappropriate to voice such concerns.

There’s no reason you have any right to complain; after all, you’re benefiting from welfare without having to work for it. But more and more, the situation begins to feel strangely oppressive.

If you don’t get a job within a short time frame of receiving welfare payments, you’re forced to attend appointments with a Job Services Provider (JSP) who is marketed to you as a service to help find a job suited to your unique needs and respect your barriers to employment.

Things usually start off friendly and amicable, but the system demands exemplar job seekers to show that these services really do help and are worth keeping around. The moment you deviate from the parameters of an exemplar job seeker, the support you receive suddenly plummets.

They stop acting friendly, and start lecturing you on the ‘hard truths’, placing more and more pressure on you to apply for jobs that they think you should apply for, regardless of your stated barriers.

Maybe the barriers to your employment are far greater than they anticipated. Maybe you ask too many questions instead of accepting everything they say as fact. Maybe, like me, you try standing up for your rights when you tell them that you can’t take on certain types of work due to serious threats to your health, the least of which being the looming threat of long COVID.

They might frame it as a ‘lack of work ethic’, or ‘laziness’. You feel powerless to defend yourself because you don’t want to be seen as an ungrateful ‘dole bludger’. You know that there is some truth to the reality of your privilege, as there are many people living in Australia in urgent need of welfare payments who are unable to access them.

But that's the mindset the system preys upon.

It preys upon your shame, to keep you from questioning practices inherent to the system.

The oppressive nature of this relationship becomes clear with just a little introspection that the services they provide aren’t offered as options for you to take advantage of, but rather obligations you must fulfill or face homeless, starvation, or death.

The goal is to ensure you find suitable work no matter what, but what constitutes ‘suitable work’ to you may not have any bearing on what they consider suitable for you, because getting you a job is more important to them than your needs. 

You’re told to apply for jobs which may put your health at risk, asked to work in industries that may completely run counter to your entire belief system, or jobs working in oppressive workplaces where your human rights are a secondary concern.

You’re told you must accept any interviews that come your way and if you question any of this, you could see your payments cut off without warning.

And they make you feel like it’s all your fault.

I’ve had friends with far worse experiences than me. They have described to me how their experiences with their JSP had made them critically depressed.

Telling their JSP during an appointment how terrible they’re made to feel, even going so far as to tell them they’re contemplating suicide just to escape, only to be shamed and told that they’re not taking this seriously.

They need to toughen up, stop crying and get a job. Any job.

All you are to them is a statistic, and they will do anything they can to make you a statistic that promotes the continued existence of the status quo and supports the interests of those in power.

It’s a system designed to rob autonomy and dignity from those living in poverty.

To give people the smallest amount of money possible, to keep them begging for scraps, and willing to jump through any hoops to do so, no matter the cost to their mental or physical health.

It’s baffling how much money the government has poured into this system, when that money could be better spent raising people out of poverty.

But this is by design. It's meticulously designed to let the public feel like the system is helping people when it’s doing anything but. The relationship between a jobseeker and a JSP feels less like receiving aid, and more like that of a child with an abusive, gaslighting parental figure.

That said, in the last few months I’ve been blessed to have met people who have experienced this, and I’ve learned that I don’t have to bow my head to everything my job service provider tells me.

Despite everything we’ve been told, we do have rights that we can stand up for, and there’s no shame in fighting for our rights even if we do experience privilege in some way.

For example, I’ve learned that I have a right to phone appointments with my job service provider, saving me money on fuel and reducing my risk of contracting COVID from meaningless in-person appointments - despite my JSP telling me that that was simply not an option.

I’ve learned that I have the right to reject work offered by my JSP if I believe it is not suitable for my health needs.

It’s not much, but the kindness and knowledge passed on by these communities has helped me find a small sense of dignity again and hope in knowing that I have some power over my own future.

The feeling of empowerment is something I never received from a job services provider - it’s not something that they want us to feel.

At the end of the day, they don’t really care about our rights, autonomy or humanity. It’s up to us to learn our rights and collaborate with other people who are suffering.

Connecting with people is helping me come to terms with how oppressive my environment really is and how deep the brainwashing runs, but it’s also giving me the knowledge and courage to overcome it.

The Australian Unemployed Workers Union have just released their ROAR app, designed to help Jobseekers share information about harmful JSPs, and help them connect and organise for their rights. Initiatives like this are exactly what we need.

Solidarity among unemployed workers is so important to spreading courage and working to build a better future in which we are free to truly be ourselves and find our own paths, take control of our future, and live satisfying lives irrespective of whether or not it’s what the system wants of us.

It’s not always easy but there are always ways forward. And together, we can help lift each other up more than any government system alone ever will.

Content moderator: Antipoverty Centre