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A homeless man sitting on Millenium Bridge, St. Paul’s Cathedral dome in the background, London, England, UK.
Homeless assessment is, strictly speaking, a gatekeeping service, and like most public services it is ruled by targets. Photograph: Vanda Ralevska/Alamy
Homeless assessment is, strictly speaking, a gatekeeping service, and like most public services it is ruled by targets. Photograph: Vanda Ralevska/Alamy

I work in a council homeless unit, where not helping people is seen as a good job

This article is more than 8 years old
Anonymous

Homelessness assessment is a thankless task when there’s scant social housing to go around, but sometimes I can slip someone through the gate

I have worked as a housing options officer since 2002. The job, as well as the job title, changes with each parliament. Homeless persons unit, homeless prevention team. Housing options, housing choices, housing assessment – unfortunately, none of these titles actually provide more housing for the homeless but I am sure somewhere a consultant is getting a nice payout for creating job titles.

I first decided to work in homelessness with a local authority as a gateway to working in housing. I was advised by someone at housing charity Shelter to do the job for six months to learn “how the enemy works”. But my colleagues were great and are dedicated to helping the people that came steadily pouring through the door. So 14 years later I am still doing the same job, albeit with a different title.

Homeless assessment is a thankless task. The council only has a duty to provide accommodation for those that meet the criteria under the Housing Act. It is, strictly speaking, a gatekeeping service. Like most public services it is ruled by targets and performance indicators.

Every borough in London is drastically short of housing, as everyone knows. There are scant few affordable tenancies out there. People come to us when they are threatened with homelessness and, if they manage to jump through all the hoops, we have to provide them with some kind of accommodation. All the local authorities in England are competing against each other to secure accommodation in the private rented sector to place these people. Much of this accommodation is expensive and of very low quality because the landlords know they can play one desperate council off another. Homelessness is a nice little earner for slumlords.

My colleagues and I are on the frontline, interviewing and assessing homeless people, deciding if someone is vulnerable enough to deserve a room with a shared bathroom and kitchen in a decrepit building 20 miles away. We become the punchbag for social workers, solicitors, housing advisers, MPs and anyone else who fancies having a go because us doing our job has made their job a little more complex.

Solicitors are the best at spinning a yarn. Everyone has a right to legal representation – or should have – but the way some legal firms turn a legitimate decision into condemnation of an individual housing officer is, I guess, how they earn their money. I once tried to offer a woman housing south of the Thames, 45 minutes away by train, but she refused to accept the placement and gave a list of coherent but rather flimsy arguments as to why she could never go south of the river. Her solicitor threatened to take the council to court, saying I had been arguing with a woman who could not speak a word of English. I do not begrudge the woman having accommodation or her right to complain about its location but I draw the line at being made to look delusional about the language someone is speaking to me in.

This is the expensive game we play as an alternative to building social housing.

Ask almost anyone working on the frontline in housing what the answer is homelessness and they will say build more social housing. Photograph: Dan Kitwood/Getty Images

I’ve even had social workers threatening to take a mother’s children away from her because the family has been found to be intentionally homeless – for failing to organise their housing benefit, for example – and has been referred to children’s services. It’s an empty threat – Article 8 of the Human Rights Act prevents children being taken away from their parents unless they are in danger – but that doesn’t stop social workers from trying to pass their responsibility back to housing officers.

If I had a choice I would house pretty much everyone I see in my work. No one deserves to sleep on the street, and let’s be honest, no one wants to see people sleeping on the street. But I do not have that choice. The resources available are slim. Legislation limits the council’s accountability to those who are “vulnerable” and not “intentionally homeless”. No children, no severe medical issue – no housing. I have never met anyone who wants to place people in accommodation miles away from their support network, but they have no choice.

Ask almost anyone working on the frontline in housing what the answer is to the growing homeless problem and they will say build more social housing. It really is that simple, but it never happens. So an endless parade of consultants and political opportunists come up with fanciful ways of preventing people becoming homeless despite the ever-decreasing housing benefit budget and the ever-increasing rents. And it is my job to implement these ideas, signposting the most vulnerable people in society to the local estate agent with a threat of temporary accommodation in the wilds of Essex.

I work in a service where not helping people is generally seen as doing a good job. But I keep doing the job because just occasionally I can slip someone through the gate who others might have shut out. It’s easy to be critical from outside the system and accuse council staff of social cleansing but fighting from the inside and occasionally making a big difference to someone’s life makes the whole charade worthwhile.

While working for a local authority in Essex, I managed to find accommodation for a man called John*. He had depression and major drug and alcohol issues. He had been sleeping in a tent since his mother killed herself and the council decided he had no right to the flat where she was living. Single men generally get the roughest deal from councils, and keeping performance indicators looking good means for every John that gets help there are a many more who you’ll see in shop doorways at night.

Homelessness options continues to be an expensive way to choose who deserves to have a roof over their head – a strange concept in the 21st century. But while there’s a lack of political motivation to change the system. So consultants, solicitors, my colleagues and I will continue to make a living out of playing Russian roulette with the lives of vulnerable and destitute people.

*Name has been changed

This series aims to give a voice to the staff behind the public services that are hit by mounting cuts and rising demand, and so often denigrated by the press, politicians and public. If you would like to write an article for the series, contact tamsin.rutter@theguardian.com.

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