
“It’s not very helpful really,” says Owen Sandford, 27, of the government’s spring statement. “I understand they’ve got a tough job, but we’ve got a tougher job trying to survive.”
Sandford is in receipt of universal credit and has been applying for work – but he is struggling.
“A lot of us have got kids,” he says outside the jobcentre just behind Blackpool’s famous tower. “There’s so many families that live in poverty, that can’t pay the bills and are getting into debt.”
And the government’s financial plans, he adds, don’t help people like him. “Energy keeps going up, council tax keeps going up, food shop is rising every week. The only thing not going up is my money.”
Rachel Reeves’s statement included sweeping welfare cuts, with the health element of universal credit to be frozen or reduced alongside a review of personal independence payment (Pip).
Lindsay Barlow, the chief executive of the Blackpool charity Disability First, says many disabled people in the town are “terrified” by the changes.
“We’ve received lots of emails and terrified phone calls,” she says. “We had a couple who had learning disabilities pop in last week, and they just didn’t have a clue how this change was going to affect them.
“We get people who are in mental health crisis on the phone. We have had to have suicide awareness training to help people who have been pushed to the brink, because it’s people with mental health conditions that are really feeling the impact of these changes, because they’re frightened.”
Blackpool has one of the highest proportions of people claiming disability benefit – 17% of the population, according to House of Commons Library data.
Health outcomes are also poor. People in Blackpool are more likely to have a diagnosis of depression and the town has the highest proportion in the country of people with mental health conditions such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.
In Blackpool mortality rates are higher, while life expectancy is lower. Men and women have the lowest life expectancy from birth of any local authority in England, with the gap between the town and the rest of the country continuing to grow.
At Layton Methodist church, volunteers see about 600 people each week coming through their doors looking for everything from a free breakfast to budget cookery lessons.
On a Thursday, for £8 people can do a food shop that would cost about £40 in a normal supermarket – but some struggle to manage even that.
“People buy it the first couple of weeks after they get the benefit,” says Jakki Garner. “But by week three or week four, they can’t, their benefits have gone.”
Diane Halstead, the church minister’s wife, adds: “It brings them down. Because at the end of the day, they feel they’re failing as parents … they’ll feed the children, then they’ll end up not eating themselves.”
They have noticed demand increasing and expect things to get worse as the government’s safety net disappears further.
“The way things are progressing will be to church groups, to community centres, to more volunteer-led things,” Garner says.
And the welfare changes are “going to affect us drastically,” she adds, “because obviously, they’re going to end up relying more on coming to food banks”.
Their food truck is supplied by The Big Food Project, which last year gave out more than 850,000 meals. This year, they expect this figure will surpass 1m, says its chief executive, Victoria Blakeman.
“I think the issue that we’ve got is that people are already making decisions around food and heating at that lower end of where the benefits are going to [be] cut,” she says.
“In this particular area, there are a lot of people that have been dependent on the government for their support, and as we see those cuts, we’ve got rising costs across food anyway, it’s going to make it so much more difficult for people to be able to eat properly.”
In this Lancashire town, poverty is an issue seen across demographics – young people here share the same worries as pensioners about putting food on the table.
At a drop-in centre run by Streetlife, one 23-year-old man says his universal credit payments “just about cover food but don’t get me a roof over my head”. He sleeps “here and there and everywhere, in the street”.
He is the father of a seven-week-old baby, and with any spare money, he says: “I do try and get my child stuff and the child’s mum stuff, like it’s coming up to Mother’s Day in four days, things like that.”
Another 23-year-old man says: “The government is taking money away from people who have the least money in society. I live on the street.” With any less support, he claims, “I’d probably end up dead”.
In the town centre, Ken Rollinson, 50, runs Affordable Mobility, which supplies aids such as electric scooters. Some of his customers come into the shop in tears and he ends up letting them pay in instalments when they can’t afford to buy upfront.
Life here can be “very difficult”, Rollinson says. “I mean, I’ve had people in here crying their eyes out or saying they can’t afford this, they can’t afford that.”
A single father to a young son, he has a bad back and mental health issues himself, he says, but has already been denied benefits. “He’s only four. I even said to them: ‘How do you expect me to feed my son and pay a mortgage?’
“I have to work seven days a week, just trying to make a living. It’s very, very hard.”
• In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@samaritans.org or jo@samaritans.ie. In the US, you can call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline on 988, chat on 988lifeline.org, or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counselor. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international helplines can be found at befrienders.org
