The number of rebel Labour MPs vowing to oppose the disability cuts is growing. But the moral stain could take years to shift.
One year ago, as cheering supporters waved union jacks to celebrate Labour's election landslide, Keir Starmer walked into Downing Street with a promise: the country had voted "for change. For national renewal. And a return of politics to public service." On Tuesday, his government will ask parliament to remove benefits from more than 1 million disabled and sick people.
You will have already heard much about the Westminster drama of the vote. More than 120 Labour MPs have signed an amendment aiming to kill the bill next week, with more still said to be joining, presumably fuelled by the sense this was not the "change" they were elected for. It has been a welcome relief to see such moral strength, with backbenchers and even a now former government whip dodging alleged threats of deselection to stand up for their constituents. Starmer says he will "press forward" with the cuts, describing the rebels as "noises off", but behind the scenes No 10 is said to be desperately trying to get MPs - including frontbenchers - back in line.
In the coming days, the papers will inevitably splash on what the size of the rebellion means for Starmer's premiership while pundits gas about rumoured resignations, as though all of this were a game and the only casualty a promising ministerial career. Let's remember, then, what - and who - it is MPs would be voting for. With the number of people relying on disability benefits growing, the government plans to tighten eligibility for personal independence payments (Pip). That means up to 1.2 million disabled people, many of whom are already in some of the poorest households in the country, could lose between £4,200 and £6,300 a year they need to pay for the extra costs of disability. Under the changes, due to be introduced in November 2026, disabled people would not qualify for Pip unless they score a minimum of four points on an assessment designed to measure their ability to carry out a single daily activity, such as washing or getting dressed.
If that sounds like technical jargon, just talk to Lee - a worried reader who emailed me - and the human impact of the policy becomes clear. Lee has multiple debilitating health conditions - from muscle wasting and joint pain to depression and daily seizures - and was reassessed for Pip in March. He scraped by to win the lowest benefit rate, but didn't score the magic four points in any category - which means that if MPs vote to change the rules, it is likely Lee will be rejected next time he's assessed. That's despite the fact he needs help from his partner to shower, cook and use the toilet. Lee is "petrified" of losing his disability benefits and his seizures are increasing from the stress. "I couldn't survive without the support I receive," he says. "It would be a death sentence for me."
No Labour minister will tell you they want to take Pip from people like Lee. No politician who cuts disability benefits ever says out loud, "We will take support from people who rely on it." Instead, they cast doubt on reality, chipping away at trust in the social security system and, with it, our disabled neighbours. They say we should give benefits to people who "genuinely need them", as though not everyone receiving them does. They pick a "good reason" for cutting support - a bloated welfare bill, say, or a labour market crisis - and paint empathy as costly and cruelty as prudent.
That's why government figures - including Starmer himself in response to the rebellion - repeatedly claim the cuts will get disabled people into work, even though a Pip award has no relation to whether someone has a job or not.
It is telling that the official forecast for the policy's impact on employment isn't due to be published until October - meaning that MPs are being asked to cut disabled people's benefits on the basis it will help them find work without any evidence to back this up. Or, as Labour MPs tabling the amendment put it: "We are being asked to vote before consultation with disabled people and before impact assessments." Facts, it seems, don't trump fiscal rules.
Even if a few thousand long-term sick people get jobs as a result of the changes, it will pale in significance compared with the number pushed into penury: analysis by Trussell and WPI Economics shows nearly half a million people in disabled households will be forced into severe hardship if the government goes ahead with the full cuts. "Tightening eligibility criteria" is a neat euphemism for withholding the money disabled people need to live.
The Pip change is only the beginning. In the same bill, MPs are due to vote to cut the health top-up of universal credit for new claimants from £97 a week to £50 in order to, in the government's words, fix a system "which encourages sickness" - as well as scrap it entirely for under-22s. That's still not all: when the work capabilities assessment is abolished, Pip will become the "gateway" for this benefit; so swathes of people who lose Pip won't be eligible for out-of-work sickness benefits payments either.
Like many, Lee receives both Pip and universal credit—which means Labour’s “reforms” could see his two main strands of support pulled away. On top of that, his partner could also have her carer’s allowance taken as that’s linked to Pip eligibility too. Lee has already done the maths. If both his disability benefits are stopped, he will lose precisely £718.87 per month. That works out at roughly half his income. “I’ve told the crisis team [these cuts] would be the end of me,” he admits. “Why would anyone want to go on without any support or quality of life?”
That’s the thing with Westminster drama. Politics is only a game if you are privileged enough to be cushioned from its effects. For others, it is what decides whether there is enough food in the cupboard or whether a care worker arrives to help you wash your hair.
In 2015, fresh from the coalition pact, the Liberal Democrats were punished by the electorate for helping the Conservatives push through sweeping public spending cuts. Come the next general election, the accusation will not be that Starmer’s Labour cosied up to the Tories for power, but that they embodied them: their cruelty, their austerity and, ultimately, their failure.
In the event the rebel amendment wins or Downing Street is forced to pull the vote to save face, it cannot undo the fact that the government wished to enact these cuts in the first place. If the bill does go ahead, the division lobby will shine a light not simply on the chasms in the Labour party but on those between compassion and careerism; bravery and betrayal.
Forget the MPs who rebel over cutting disabled people's benefits - remember those who don't. This is Labour's poll tax. Its tuition fees. Its Partygate. Just as the Iraq war was for Tony Blair, disability cuts is the moral stain that will mark Starmer's government and the party for years to come. Severely disabled and ill people are going to be starved, isolated and degraded as a result of this policy. No Labour MP who backs it should be forgiven.