Low life: The art of filling out form ESA50

‘Can you manage to plan, start and finish daily tasks?’ said a panic-stricken Simon, reading aloud from the Department of Work and Pensions ESA50 Limited Capability for Work form. He was struggling with Section 2, which was inviting him to describe his ‘mental, cognitive and intellectual functions’ by answering questions furnished with multiple choice answers such as ‘Never’, ‘Sometimes’ or ‘It varies’. While you and I have been enjoying the sight of the political class changing direction like a shoal of spooked sardines, hundreds of thousands of ordinary British people on disability benefits have had only one thing on their minds — form ESA50.

Simon has got himself into a right old state about it. For years and years, the British government has humbly recognised his incapacity for work owing to his chronic state of anxiety and depression, and it has done everything that it possibly could for him and his numerous brood, especially financially. He hasn’t even had to go to the trouble of signing on. And now this. The dreaded ESA50 has dropped through his letterbox and by all accounts it seems likely that this time the Department of Work and Pensions is not going to be as understanding of his delicate mental health as it was before, possibly leading to a radical curtailment of his lifestyle. He’s brought the form around to my boy’s house, begging for advice and assistance.

I’m there lying on the sofa watching Cloudbabies on CBeebies TV. And as luck would have it, Luke is there on the sofa watching Cloudbabies, too. Luke has limited capacity for work because he is addicted to drugs and alcohol, has been for years, and he is a wily and authoritative old hand at filling out forms.