Saba Salman: Community living – what does it mean to you?

Inclusion, rights and equality have been at the heart of this magazine since its launch 35 years ago. Saba Salman asks people what a successful life in the community looks like.

View of a town from a hill above

A life in the community – photo: Seán Kelly


Alexis Quinn

Campaigner and author

People should enjoy the same opportunities as everyone else – the ability to live in a safe, comfortable home on a regular street and in a place of our choosing.

We should get to live with people we want to live with and have relationships and the chance of a family without scrutiny. If we want to work, go out to random places, stay up late and get drunk, we should be supported to do so.

Amy Tedd

Support worker, South Warwickshire

Having opportunities to build relationships, pursue careers and engage in hobbies and interests are essential to a good quality of life.

Stereotypes and prejudices, a lack of employment opportunities, inadequate funding for essential services and insufficient physical access are all huge barriers that inhibit a person’s right to a meaningful living standard.


Sarah Ford

Centre manager, Jolly Josh

Our Place To Call Home is a much-needed venue in Rochdale. We aim to meet the needs of those with additional needs, disabilities and profound and multiple learning disabilities, families and carers.

We’re proud we have a Changing Places [fully accessible] toilet. Regular or disabled toilets don’t meet the needs of the 250,000 people in the UK who require specialist facilities. Without these, it’s no wonder our families were previously isolated.

Joe Powell

Chief executive, All Wales People First

I’ve always wanted to be a taxpayer, to contribute to society. To be an active citizen. To reciprocate. To be a contributor, not a passenger. That dream became a reality when I was appointed national director of All Wales People First in 2012.

Unfortunately, I’m in a tiny minority. Most people are effectively retired and written off at 18 years old.

Human rights may be a major inconvenience to the government when legislating. But that’s exactly the reason we need them.

Dr Rashmi Becker

Sibling and Step Change Studios founder

An ideal community life for my brother would involve inclusive services and spaces. I’d like him to be able to access healthcare, housing, leisure centres, restaurants – public spaces and services where people are empathetic, kind, inclusive.

Simple adjustments can make a huge difference. Everyone can play a role, from the doctor making time to engage with him without preconceptions to the waiter at the cafe who’s always so welcoming. It’s not complicated – we just have to care.

Jo Sullivan

Chief executive, Superstar Arts

It’s an important part of our ethos that we deliver projects in a setting that shares space with other community groups.

This enables a truly integrative, inclusive experience, which leads to positive, productive community relationships.

We aim to create a supportive environment where adults express themselves via different creative outlets including exhibiting in local galleries and collaborating with mainstream artists and performers. It’s a successful way to challenge perceptions, and creates a great sense of belonging.

Simon Richards

Ambassador, Stay Up Late

In the past 10 years, I’ve gone from a person who mostly stayed in in the evenings to a person who is often out and about, at a karaoke or open mic night or at my drama group rehearsing for our next show.

I’ve been in supported living for a few years and I’m proud of the fact I can travel independently and safely to venues.

Anna Severwright

Co-convenor, Social Care Future

As I am a disabled woman, community living is more than just physically living in a community – it means I can be as active a member of my community as my non-disabled peers.

It means feeling welcome, that barriers (physical and attitudinal) are removed and any support I need to engage and contribute is available in the way I choose.

They’re the same things that matter to everyone as laid out in the Social Care Future vision: “We all want to live in the place we call home with the people and things that we love, in communities where we look out for one another, doing the things that matter to us.”

Jim Blair

Consultant nurse in learning disabilities

The right to be engaged in society should be afforded to all, whether you use words or not, whether you fit inside the designated societal margins or not.
Each person has abilities, talents and skills, and should be deemed a contributor.

We need to see people and their families in real positions of power and authority with the ability to be change agents.

Dr Sam Smith

Chief executive, C-Change Scotland

What makes a successful life in the community for people with learning disabilities is largely the same as for everyone else.

Having space and a place where you’re loved and respected for who you are, where you can grow and become your own good self. Where you spend time with people you know and care about, and who know and care about you. Where you can live life by a rhythm that suits you, going to places you like to go, doing things you like to do. Where you feel safe and part of something bigger.

Jolanta Lasota

Chief executive, Ambitious About Autism

As a society, we should all have high aspirations for what autistic young people can achieve. Like everyone, they should have employment, education or training opportunities that enable them to live an active life as part of the community of their choice.

Early intervention, education and support play a key role in preparing people for the life they wish to lead.

Within our schools and college, we work with young people and their families to understand their interests and ambitions and to develop skills that will enable them to have a quality of life they deserve and are entitled to.

Dr Joanna Griffin

Parent carer, psychologist, author and Affinity Hub founder

My son, who’s 15, wants to go swimming, visit a cafe, walk the dog and see friends and family. He also needs to choose food from a supermarket, go the opticians, get the bus and be part of everyday life – something those who don’t have a learning disability may take for granted.

What supports us are inclusive, accessible facilities and a welcoming attitude. Education, awareness and representation helps. Those who stand out are the people who accept us as we are, with openness and patience.


Dr Simon Duffy

Director, Citizen Network Research

We live at a time of social isolation, where fear, poverty and prejudice have locked too many in their own little bubbles.

This isn’t about people with learning difficulties – our whole society is disconnected, insecure and distracted by consumerist dreams that are killing our planet. People with learning difficulties hold the key to a different vision of citizenship and community.

Community living must be about stepping up, daring to shake things up and creating new forms of social life, environmental action and political change.

Dr Ayesha Mahmud

GP and parent

As a parent, especially a Pakistani-British Muslim parent of a daughter with a learning disability, my aspiration is that she’s accepted as part of the community – able to live, work, socialise and enjoy life.

It’s my dream not to worry about what will happen when I’m not around. I hope people know she won’t just take but also give.

As a GP, making community living a success means ensuring reasonable adjustments, personalised annual health checks (which can lead to improved health outcomes) and that people are part of patient participation groups.




“It comes back to moral leadership. You’ve got to have someone who is challenging the system”

Ten years after Sir Norman Lamb introduced Transforming Care, he talks to Seán Kelly about how it was his most frustrating issue as a minister and why people are not living in the community.

Sir Norman Lamb

You get appointed as a minister with no training about how to use power to achieve what you want,” says former Liberal Democrat MP and care minister Sir Norman Lamb.

“So you essentially learn on the job and I am quite clear that I became more effective as a minister as I did the job. I realised that you have to give as much focus to implementation as you do to the initial policy.”

It was nearly 10 years ago in December 2012 that Lamb wrote the ambitious foreword to Transforming Care, the coalition government’s response to the Winterbourne View abuse scandal.

The programme aimed to move people out of assessment and treatment units (ATUs) such as Winterbourne and into homes in communities. It was part of a “push for change”, says Lamb.

Today, however, the 64-year-old admits he was naive about the approach: “We did Transforming Care as a concordat. We got everyone to sign up to it – NHS England, royal colleges, local authority representatives and so on.

“And I thought that if people had committed to a course of action they would take steps to implement it. I didn’t think that institutions would so readily commit to something and then just ignore it.”

What does he think of how much change there has been? “Not nearly enough,” he replies. “Transforming Care was the most frustrating issue I had to deal with as a minister because of the inertia in the system and the resistance to change persists in far too many places.”




A central target – to get everyone out of ATUs and similar provision within 18 months – was not met. It has still not been met. Lamb says that, frustratingly, change has been only slow and incremental.

While many people moved out of ATUs, others moved in and the overall figures seem to have plateaued. Around 2,000 people remain in these units, compared to an original 3,400.

Why is this? Lamb points out that community support has been underfunded and eroded by consecutive governments. He describes a system that financially incentivises institutions to keep beds filled, while the same institutions employ the psychiatrists who decide whether someone needs to stay in a bed.

“There are lots of things that undermine our ability to get people back in the community,” he says.

Some people’s lives did get better. Lamb says: “There are a lot of people who are now living independent lives who hadn’t been before that, who benefited from that whole initiative but, fundamentally, we haven’t properly confronted the institutionalised model of care which persists in far too many places.”

Concept versus practice

I ask Lamb why he thinks care and treatment reviews (CTRs), introduced in 2015, have not always delivered the change they seemed to promise. “I am not sure… they’re a good idea in concept.”

He tells me a story about how, as a minister, he initiated a review for a 15-year-old autistic girl stuck in a negative spiral of isolation in an ATU with frequent use of physical restraint.

The review led to a move to a more person-centred provider. Lamb saw her again two years later. She had not been restrained once and was leading a much more positive life.

If the people undertaking care and treatment reviews don’t believe in the principle of freedom, they will not work

But results are not always so life changing. “I suppose it depends on the quality of the review,” he says, noting that CTRs can be seen as merely an exercise to be done, and may be overly risk averse.

“It comes back to moral leadership. You’ve got to have someone who is challenging the system. If you have people undertaking the reviews who don’t fundamentally believe in the philosophical principle of freedom, then they are not going to work.”

So how then do we really transform care? “There needs to be moral leadership from government, and appropriate funding in the right places,” says Lamb. “Unless you have a minister who is clearly interested in the issue and is willing to give clear leadership to the system about the imperative of change, I don’t think the system will just change of its own accord.”

Cuts to social care funding are another barrier to improving people’s lives. “Social care is the preventive end of the spectrum and, if you cut that, then people fall into crisis.

“The problem is in this country is that the NHS is like a national religion. Rightly so – but the result is that governments of all political persuasions don’t give sufficient attention to social care.

“And the public doesn’t fully understand what social care means. It’s quite an old-fashioned term and it just doesn’t get political attention.”
Given his views, it is no surprise that Lamb is in favour of health and social care funding being increasingly merged.

He admits to many anxieties about how it will work but says that he “cannot resile from it” after over a decade arguing for such reforms, both before and after he was a minister.

Lamb is also a strong advocate for preventive services, an approach he has championed in the mental health sector. He chairs the South London and Maudsley NHS Foundation Trust, an organisation with a budget of more than half a billion pounds and 6,000 staff.

Someone very senior said ‘we are not commissioned to do that’. That is such a hopeless answer because we’ve got a whole wealth of expertise

The specialist mental health trust has worked with the third sector locally, opening Be Well hubs in churches, schools and football clubs, taking a preventive approach to what Lamb calls the “psychological fall-out” from the pandemic.

When he first arrived at the Maudsley in 2020, Lamb asked about preventive work and “someone very senior said ‘we are not commissioned to do that’.”

“I thought that is such a hopeless answer because we’ve got a whole wealth of understanding and expertise here and we should be interested in how we prevent ill health.”

He wants the same approach to apply equally to people with a learning disability or autism: “Let’s work with those families to avoid a deterioration of their circumstance. And now, with the current reforms to the NHS, it does give us an opportunity.”

Referring to the new partnerships of organisations that plan and deliver local health and care services, he says: “We are part of the integrated care system. We can help shape a different approach.”

He believes that support for teenagers and young people is the key to avoiding further mental health admissions. He describes stressed and tired families dealing with a crisis “on a Friday night” which can lead to a hospital admission “and then they get stuck there”.

He tells me about an impressive service in his home county of Norfolk called Starfish+ which will work with a young person to see them through a weekend crisis, thus preventing an admission.

Active post politics

It is services like this that have led to the Sir Norman Lamb Health and Wellbeing Fund, which he set up after he left politics. Based in Norfolk, this gives small grants to local voluntary organisations working with people with mental ill health, learning disability or autism.

“We don’t insist on them creating some new project. We support them with the work they are doing,” he says.

The fund works with a coalition of charities in Norfolk, which has led to closer working between organisations. Lamb says the model could easily be spread across the country.

It is three years since he stood down as an MP so I ask about achievements that he is proud of. He demanded an investigation into Gosport Hospital, where a 2017 report found excess use of opiates. In more than 450 cases these had “hastened” death – or, as Lamb puts it, “they killed people”.

He led on new standards outlawing prone restraint in the NHS and reducing the use of restraint generally. He was instrumental in setting up Think Ahead, a national organisation that fast-tracks graduates into mental health social work.

Lamb is also proud of establishing access standards for early intervention in psychosis, within two weeks of an episode. There is evidence that early intervention can often stop the psychosis.

Yet, for all his ministerial achievements, he has sometimes been criticised for focusing on individual cases. Lamb invited all the families involved with Winterbourne View to meet him, for example.

He is also proud of his advocacy, furthering people’s causes in relation to mental health, learning disability and autism: “I went out there and made the case for them.”

Lamb says he felt it quite appropriate to challenge local authorities and clinical commissioning groups if they dragged their feet on discharge plans.

Ultimately, he says, it was this focus on individual people and their families that “made you understand the issues completely and understand the institutional barriers to change.”


Ben McCay: Why experts by experience pulled out of care and treatment reviews

In the wake of care scandals, a scheme to keep people out of hospital was brought in. So why has a self-advocacy charity quit and is calling on others to do the same? Ben McCay explains.

Dawn Wiltshire, expert by experience at My Life My Choice


Today, about 60 people from the Thames Valley region are locked up, away from home, in mental health hospitals.

This is why, earlier this year, My Life My Choice (MLMC), an Oxfordshire-based self-advocacy charity for adults with a learning disability that I co-chair, withdrew from NHS England’s Care and Treatment Review (CTR) programme.

At a CTR, a panel of independent people discuss the care of someone who is at risk of ending up in a psychiatric hospital.

CTRs were introduced following the abuse against patients at Winterbourne View assessment and treatment unit in 2011.

They are supposed to ensure that people’s views are heard while they are in hospital and that they leave hospital as soon as possible, and to help prevent similar scandals from happening.

An expert by experience is included as part of the review panel. This is someone who has or cares for someone with autism or a learning disability. The panel also includes a clinical expert and the commissioner.

The NHS England guide to CTRs says the expert by experience role is to help the panel understand what someone’s care is like and how it could be better, and to help ensure the person and family carers have a productive review.


Hope versus reality

However, some 11 years after Winterbourne View, there has been little progress in reducing the numbers of people locked away.

According to official figures, at the time of Winterbourne View, there were more than 3,400 people in similar establishments. In 2022, around 2,000 people with a learning disability and or autism are still in such units.

Abuse and poor care continue. The Whorlton Hall scandal in 2019 and Eldertree Lodge in 2021 are just two more sickening examples.

MLMC believed that being part of the CTR process would make sure people got the right care, and that people would be moved quickly into a places nearer to their family and friends.

We are proud of ourselves for giving it a go and trying to be part of making the system work

As Paul Scarrott, an MLMC expert by experience, says: “We were hoping that it would get people a better life, out of the unit and into the community. “People have been in there a long time away from the family and they needed to get back to have a better life.”

The CTR programme has become part of a process that does not work well enough to keep people out of hospital.

We do not think taking part in it is the best use of time, and experts by experience should spend their time campaigning for better care.

Agree? Then join us

MLMC would like to continue to invite organisations to adopt our position that we need to remove ourselves from the treatment review process, and campaign for full system change. We would like to work with allies and other organisations who feel the same.

Some organisations have not been able to back our decision and, while that is disappointing, we understand their choice to do this.

We have also had some great support from individuals and one-to-one discussions with organisations such as NHS England, and were able to explain our decision.

The responses we have had directly and on social media include campaigners Rightful Lives, who describe our stand as “important and principled”.

The government this summer released its Building the Right Support Action Plan. It says the aim is to support more people to have the lives they want in the community.

We need to remove ourselves from the treatment review process and campaign for full system change

We welcome the government’s words in the action plan and some of its plans in the proposed reform of the Mental Health Act, such as the removal of “learning disability or autism” as an excuse for placing someone in an assessment treatment unit.

However if, as the government writes in Building the Right Support, the goal is that people with a learning disability and or autism “are supported to live full lives in their community, in their home”, then it needs to take action to make this a reality.

“The government’s got to do something,” says Scarrott. “These are people’s lives, so spend that money on people getting support so they can be nearer to their families and have their lives back and have a better life.

“We want to get everyone out and back in the community.”

With the CTR process, while it is frustrating that we have been part of something that we believe is failing some people, we are proud of ourselves for giving it a go and trying to be part of making the system work.

We believe change can happen, but only if the people in charge recognise their responsibilities and channel their power to return liberty to the thousands in our community who are locked away.

Ben McCay is co-chair of trustees at My Life My Choice


Podcast provides a platform for us

All manner of topics are covered in podcasts created by self-advocates and, whatever someone’s skills are, they have a role in making them, say Hanna Bennett and Catrina Farnell.

People First Keighley and Craven

One of the few podcasts by people with learning disabilities is run by People First Keighley and Craven.

The People First Podcast, launched in June 2021, is one way in which we advocate. We have created more than 20 podcasts, each up to 30 minutes long.

A podcast is like a radio show but you listen whenever and wherever you want, on your phone, TV, computer, in a car or on a smart speaker. Anyone can make a podcast and get it online, so they have become a popular way for people to communicate with the world.



We can talk about whatever we like in our episodes, and we discuss issues that matter to us and our members.

People from all walks of life, backgrounds and professions are hosted. Those interviewed include politicians, social workers, doctors, nurses, cybersecurity experts, wrestlers, entertainers, artists, authors and more.

We want to learn from our guests’ experiences and share our experiences with them so listeners can be informed and entertained.

Eight of our members work on the project, alongside one staff member, although the whole office team support the podcast and feature regularly in episodes.

There are many ways our members can be involved. Some favour the technical side and like to use the equipment in the podcast studio and the computers in the office. Some like to interview guests, while others promote the shows on social media.

We always want to recruit new members to the team, and we are confident that whatever someone’s skills and abilities, there is a role for them and they can learn new skills and have fun while making a professional podcast.

People First Keighley and Craven, based near Bradford, has around 30 members who come into the office each week. In total, around 300 people attend our social events throughout the year.

Our group was formed in 2004 and, although there are many People First organisations around the country – all affiliated to national People First in London – we all operate independently.

We are a self-advocacy group run by and for adults with learning disabilities, representing ourselves and speaking out on behalf of others people with disabilities. We believe we can support each other to lead fulfilling lives with dignity and respect.

It doesn’t stop there

The podcast is just one of many projects that our members can get involved with.

Our work includes running craft and gardening groups, campaigning, promoting healthy living, organising social nights, offering training and peer support and a cookery school, and we will soon be opening a community cafe.

Our in-house campaigning and admin teams are always busy. Recently, we organised Covid booster drop-in information sessions and an event highlighting the work of community pharmacies, so people can better manage their health, as well as an event, Dying Matters, which focused on getting people talking about grief and bereavement.

Recent campaigns include successfully challenging our local council and MP to stop taxis overcharging customers who use a wheelchair.

Another was supporting Heidi Crowter and Máire Lea-Wilson to get equality in abortion law about Down syndrome. This campaign was not about whether abortions are right or wrong. We firmly believe everyone deserves equal rights and equal opportunities and that extends to inside the womb. It is about the inequality in the law.

Our members Tracey Line and Daniel Jones travelled to London with two staff members to attend the proceedings at the Royal Courts of Justice.
The way we see it is that, while it would be far easier to look away, nothing would change. The message this law sends to our disabled community is that our lives are worth less than those without a disability.

We have interviewed social workers, politicians, doctors, nurses, cybersecurity experts, wrestlers, entertainers, artists, authors and more

We run regular week-long residential educational retreats offering everything from healthy recipes and cooking skills to inclusive exercise. There are also regular healthy cooking courses in the cafe below our office where members learn food preparation, hygiene and service skills that contribute to life skills and employability.

We ask a lot from our members because they are capable of incredible things. Sadly, however, society doesn’t always recognise the ability in disability. Our mission statement is for people to aim high and aspire to have the autonomy, self-confidence and self-belief to create both the life they want and a society that recognises people’s value.

So the podcast is another platform to raise awareness about the issues that affect people with learning disabilities in our community and all over the world. This is like having a stage where we can speak out and get our voices heard.

We believe that, just as one flame can light an infinite number of candles, one advocate can change the world.

The People First Podcast is on Spotify, Apple Podcasts and other platforms

Hanna Bennett is chief officer and Catrina Farnell is team leader at People First Keighley and Craven

Photo: Our voices out there: podcasting allows the team to raise local and global issues – People First Keighley and Craven

How making parenting possible helps to keep families together

Juliet Diener looks at research on becoming a parent again after having had children taken away and adopting ‘weapons and tactics’ when raising a family in the spotlight of social services.

Woman with child seated


We want to keep our children

MacLeod AM, Smart C, Keohane P, Dallos R, Cox KJ. “We’re entitled to be parents just like normal people”: a multiperspective interpretative phenomenological analysis of a mother with a learning disability’s experience of parenting following the removal of her older children. British Journal of Learning Disabilities. 9 May 2022.

Only 7% of adults with learning disabilities in England become parents, and more than half of them have their children permanently removed.

As the statistics in this study highlight, opportunities to parent for learning-disabled adults are filled with historical and current conflicts.



The balance between freedom of choice and meeting the needs of the child evokes challenges for the professional team who work within a system that is risk averse.

The authors of this study noted previous research that identified known success factors which offer support for the learning-disabled parent.

However, research is scarce on what happens when a learning-disabled adult tries to become a parent again after having had a child or children forcibly removed from their care.

Authors led a study that applied a multiperspective interpretative phenomenological analysis – a qualitative approach that aims to understand lived experiences.

The research reviewed a series of semistructured interviews with the learning-disabled parent as well as the professionals who supported her parenting.

The parent, named in the research only as Melissa, chose professionals who had previous relationships with her spanning a period of 2-10 years. She had had three children previously removed and was now parenting a fourth child, who was three years old.

The analysis aimed to make sense of the experience for both Melissa and the key professionals involved.

Identified themes highlighted the importance of a close relationship with the professionals, as named by Melissa, who championed her process. This was echoed by the professionals, who acknowledged their roles in enabling Melissa’s success as a parent.

A key finding of this study was the importance of connection between them, which was defined as “understanding at an emotional level, empathy, and acceptance within the security of a relationship”.

These crucial components had a significant impact on Melissa’s belief she could parent successfully. She experienced positive attachment with one professional in particular.

These findings have significant implications for supporting family life for the learning-disabled community with a hope of pursuing further larger studies of its kind.

Parents in the child protection system

Stefánsdóttir S, Björg Sigurjónsdóttir H, Rice J. Weapons and tactics: a story of parents with learning disabilities maintaining family integrity. British Journal of Learning Disabilities. 24 June 2022.

Set in Iceland, this case study shares the story of a learning-disabled couple who developed tools to be able to parent their children and manage complex relationships with the professionals who monitored them and had concerns about their parenting.

As the rights of learning-disabled people continue to be acknowledged, there are more opportunities for them to become parents. At the same time, this leads to child protection services considering their competency in this.

The case study, spanning a decade, covers the intimate story of Anna and Tomas (pseudonyms) who, by the time of writing up the research, were parenting their fourth child. Both were keen to share their story in the hope it would highlight opportunities for systemic change.

While the findings focus on the “weapons and tactics” (language chosen by the couple) Anna and Tomas developed to keep social services at bay, the pair also highlighted their experiences as children and damaging relationships with professional services. This resulted in feelings of distrust.

Their past experiences gave the couple insight when managing the continuous assessments placed on them

These experiences gave the couple insight when managing the continuous assessments placed on them even before they had their first child.

Building a circle of allies around them was one of the tactics the parents used that helped them throughout their years of parenting. This included supportive family members and, later, trusted professionals and disability advocates.

Learning to work within the child protection system, Anna and Tomas learnt “to demonstrate their strengths while addressing their limitations”.

Some precautions were needed to support the long-term goal of managing all their children’s needs, especially during the pandemic (for example, a family member cared for the older children for a few days while the couple concentrated on the baby).

While this case study highlights the success of Anna and Tomas, it also identifies the long-term stresses and anxieties they experienced as marginalised parents.

The mix of support by both family members and advocates enabled a success story and offers insights for other families, professionals and the wider community.


Chris Hatton: Financial decisions affect people’s lives – so they should have their say

People with learning disabilities are often absent when it comes to talking about money matters. And a lot of these relate to individuals having control over how they live, says Chris Hatton.

Pile of pound coins

There is a lot of media talk about money relating to people with learning disabilities right now.

This includes the (under)funding of services and cuts, the amount of public money spent on services for people with learning disabilities, poor staff pay and staff shortages and some services extracting obscene profits while others struggle because they cannot make the numbers add up.

While these issues are urgent and important, they ignore crucial issues about money that really matter in the daily lives of people with learning disabilities.

Here are five things about money we should be talking about.

Control over money

The recent 200 Lives project, which I led at Manchester Metropolitan University (see box), evaluated the quality and costs of supported living and residential care for 200 adults with learning disabilities.

It showed that most people had some choice over how they spent some of their money, but ultimate control, particularly over big-ticket spending such as rent, usually rested with someone else.

Three out of four did not know if they had a personal budget or not, even though Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) statistics show that three-quarters of adults with learning disabilities do have some form of personal budget.

Choice in where to live

We know that the quality and location of housing makes a massive difference to people’s lives, and that housing costs matter whether someone is renting or buying.

However, little of this reaches the bubble of debate when it comes to supporting people with learning disabilities.

The 200 Lives project found that most people had not made active decisions about where they lived. Those in supported living were connected to their neighbourhoods, whether for good (where people felt safe, connected and mobile) or ill (in isolated areas of antisocial behaviour, crime and deprivation).

Almost 50,000 adults with learning disabilities are living with their families in England. Is this what people and families want?

A largely invisible homelessness crisis is looming. The number of households with a person with learning disabilities owed a homelessness duty has increased almost 40% in less than four years.

Poverty

Research has repeatedly shown that poverty and hardship play a big part in the poorer health of people with learning disabilities all through their lives.

Twelve years of austerity coupled with the impact of Covid means that more people with learning disabilities and often their families are likely to be experiencing poverty.

Support to equip people for jobs they want to do (rather than just to polish CVs) is cost effective but not happening

Then there is the impact of the huge and ongoing increase in the cost of food, fuel and much else.

The scale of poverty being experienced by people with learning disabilities, particularly those not eligible for any kind of social care support, is largely invisible.

Inadequate, punitive benefits

People with learning disabilities are largely absent from general discussions about the adequacy and punitive operation of benefits such as universal credit and employment support allowance (ESA).

The number of people identified in DWP statistics as having learning difficulties, learning disabilities or autism receiving some form of disability benefit is rapidly increasing.

More than 600,000 people (including over 250,000 children) were receiving disability living allowance, personal independence payment or attendance allowance in May 2021. This is an increase of 34% across all benefits since May 2018.

How stressful is life under ESA, with its threat of sanctions, or having to undergo PIP assessments and reassessments?

Proper paid jobs

It is beyond doubt that proper (secure, reliable and fulfilling) paid jobs are linked to better lives.

Through the pandemic, many adults with learning disabilities in paid jobs were valued to the extent that they were placed on furlough schemes and returned to their jobs.

The 200 Lives project, however, found many people wanted to work and lived fairly empty lives without a job.

Employers are crying out for reliable, committed workers, yet fewer than 6% of adults with learning disabilities getting long-term social care are in any form of paid work, with most of that being extremely part time and low paid.

Better education and support to equip people for substantial jobs they want to do (rather than just to polish their CVs), without a punitive benefits system terrifying people is known to be cost effective but it isn’t happening.

In the abstract swirl of media debate, service providers, councils, trade unions and think tanks have all been able to have their say about money when it comes to people with learning disabilities. It’s time for people with learning disabilities to take centre stage.



About 200 Lives

The 200 Lives project examined the cost and quality of supported housing and residential care for 200 adults with learning disabilities.

It was designed to include the perspectives of those who did not have capacity to consent to take part in the research to ensure it covered a wide range of support needs.


Ken Stapleton: A law that leaves people locked up

Mental health law and the professionals who implement it are breaching people’s rights when it comes to compulsory detention and treatment in hospital, says Ken Stapleton.

Cawston Hall

The Mental Health Act discriminates against people with learning disabilities.

I argue this as a social worker involved in care and treatment reviews (CTRs), having become increasingly concerned about the grounds for admission, detention and involuntary treatment under the 1983 law.

My role as a clinical adviser involves working as part of a team that includes a senior commissioner from a clinical commissioning group and an expert by experience (someone who has used mental health services).

CTRs were established as the NHS and governmental response to the significant physical and emotional abuse suffered by people diagnosed with learning disability and/or autism at the hands of care staff at Winterbourne View hospital in 2010-11.

They arose from Margaret Flynn’s report and recommendations into the events at Winterbourne published in 2012.

When to challenge admission

There are two important stages in a person’s journey when the need for compulsory admission must be critically challenged.

The first is at the point of an early referral or serious concern when the use of the compulsory powers of the Mental Health Act is being considered as a last resort to manage or control a critical situation.

The second is at compulsory admission. The evidence of the lawfulness of a such an admission, its consequences and how it is in the interests of the person who is soon to become a patient have become increasingly interesting to me.

In the introduction to his 2017 book, Men In White Coats: Treatment Under Coercion, George Szmukler, an emeritus professor of psychiatry and society at the Institute of Psychiatry, notes: “The grounds for involuntary treatment have been long lived; first that the person has a ‘mental disorder’, a list of which appears at para 2.5 of the act’s code of practice, and second that the person needs to be treated in the interests of his/her safety or for the protection of others.” (See box at end of article).

What Szmukler observes as the qualifying criteria have been at the heart of mental health laws for more than 150 years. Mental disorder and risk continue to underpin the modern legislation.

In respect of people with a learning disability, the qualifying criteria must be clinically evidenced by a psychiatrist and an approved mental health professional, usually a specialist social worker with additional training.

This must be done to lawfully justify the curtailment of the person’s human rights: autonomy, choice and the right to refuse treatment and liberty, including the freedom to leave.

Although classified as an intrinsic mental disorder under the act, learning disability in itself cannot, no matter how complex the cognitive impairment, stand alone as a qualifying criterion under which an individual can be lawfully admitted and detained. This is important for a number of reasons.

If a person with a clinical diagnosis of learning disability is to be deprived of liberty and autonomy lawfully, they must, in addition to this diagnosis, exhibit “abnormally aggressive and/or socially irresponsible conduct”.

But I have concerns about how thoroughly psychiatrists conduct the necessary assessments, and how accurately they interpret the behavioural criteria for admission.

In deciding if it is appropriate to use the act, in many situations it will be in the person’s interests to try to prevent compulsory admission, detention and treatment, rather than setting them on a clinical pathway to a cure – the aim of such compulsory admissions.

Since events at Winterbourne View in 2011, notwithstanding the government’s response via Transforming Care, incidents of significant and gratuitous abuse or neglect, sometimes resulting in deaths, have continued.

I have concerns about how thoroughly psychiatrists conduct the assessments, and how accurately they interpret the behavioural criteria

The long list includes the death of Connor Sparrowhawk while detained by Southern Health in 2013, the abuse of adults with learning disabilities at Whorlton Hall in 2019 and three deaths at the private Cawston Park hospital in Norfolk.

The author of the 2021 report into the three Cawston Park deaths was Margaret Flynn, chair of the adult safeguarding board in Norfolk, who was also author of the Winterbourne View report.

In her press conference to launch the report, she deliberately referred to patients who were detained more accurately as “prisoners who were incarcerated”.

Questions for professionals

There are questions we must ask of professionals involved in the admission of people with learning disabilities under the Mental Health Act, specifically psychiatrists, approved mental health professionals and psychologists.

These questions must not be shirked because of the potential harm that can arise from the significant decisions such people make.

First, when does “aggression” morph into “abnormal aggression”? Who has the right to decide this, when the results are potentially momentous and life changing? Are we content to leave this to the responsible clinician?

Second, when does “irresponsible conduct” morph into “seriously irresponsible” conduct? Arguably, such perceptions are more culturally determined in the eyes of the beholder than clearly demarcated within the law.

To what extent can the responsible clinician involved in admitting a learning disabled person make an appropriate, accurate clinical judgment – in a frequently highly charged encounter – that the “abnormally aggressive and/or seriously irresponsible conduct” is directly attributable to that individual’s identified clinical condition, in this particular case their learning disability?

Is it inconceivable that the genesis of the perceived “abnormal” aggression might lie elsewhere and not be directly attributable to the learning disability?

The cause may lie in some other intense and powerful source, such as severe pain caused by a medical condition such as kidney stones. Or it could be caused by some unknown trauma that has not been identified because of the person’s complex communication needs.

In such cases, any compulsory admission would be unlawful, as would any mandatory treatment under the act.

There is a substantial body of literature, practice and evidence in the field of learning disability that derives from the social model of disability (in which people are seen as being disabled by barriers in society). This is continuing to grow around the role of what is labelled “challenging behaviour” in the communication strategies of cognitively impaired people.

Many require the skills of specialist speech and language therapists to minimise misunderstandings and reduce the possibilities of aggressive conduct being interpreted incorrectly. Such interventions might prevent a breach of human rights because of an unlawful admission.

I regard the criteria under the Mental Health Act for the lawful admission of a person with a learning disability into compulsory psychiatric care as discriminatory.

This becomes clear when one compares how the “abnormally aggressive and/or seriously irresponsible” conduct criteria in this act and its code of practice are applied to people with learning disabilities and those who are not legally defined as having a mental disorder.

Should a non-learning-disabled person exhibit such behaviour, his – for the person is highly likely to be male – outcome will be very different from our potential patient with a learning disability.

If apprehended by officers of the state, our unfriendly male may find himself initially arrested, detained, possibly briefly deprived of his liberty in a police cell, then cautioned or released on bail to appear in court at a later date.

Quite simply, abusers do not value, respect or like those they are charged to care for and support. They appear to revel in the power of control

However, there will be no significant hindrance to his human rights. Depending on various contextual factors, he may receive a custodial sentence, the length of which will be specified by the court.

The outcome is likely to be a very different outcome for a learning-disabled person who, from the point of admission, will experience significant effects on their human rights through detention.

Also, I would like to examine some of the factors that over time have contributed to the gratuitous violence and neglect inflicted upon patients with a learning disability who have been “lawfully” detained in assessment and treatment units and in private and NHS hospitals.

On each occasion, some of the most appalling abuse has been perpetrated on vulnerable, dependent human beings by other human beings deemed professional or given the status of carer by someone or other.

Government action ineffective

CTRs were the governmental response to the findings of the serious case review into abuse at Winterbourne View.

Events since then have proved that CTRs have not produced the desired outcomes of significantly reducing the population of people with a learning disability compulsorily detained by the state.

They have also not led significantly to people having access to a good quality of life in the least restrictive placements in the community commensurate with their own and others’ safety.

Instead, institutional abuse of vulnerable people continues. Following the Cawston Park review, the government’s response has been to add yet another layer – safe and well reviews – to an already-crowded area.

Additional key lines of enquiry have been added to an already extensive list in CTRs, with an increasing focus on more detailed interviews with inpatients and their relatives. External investigators have been allowed dedicated time to observe activities on wards.

As critical as it is to spend time with patients, families and advocates in their living environment, this does not address the question: what is key factor that enables certain staff to bully, physically and verbally abuse and humiliate vulnerable people?

Quite simply, abusers do not value, respect or even like those they are publicly charged to care for and support. They appear to revel in the power of being able to control people.

Finally, what role – if any – do psychiatrists and psychologists play in setting, reinforcing and challenging the attitudes and practice that collectively make up the culture within which the powerless are detained?

Where were the psychiatrists and the psychologists at Winterbourne View, Whorlton Hall and Cawston Park?

Is the model of leadership open and transparent? Is the model of care under the Mental Health Act still appropriate, given the concerns that have emerged in relation to people with learning disabilities?

In every case of institutionalised abuse, the issue to urgently address is the culture operating within a closed system. We need to be more intrusive to explore the culture operating the institutions and who sets or defines it, as well as how cultures change for good or ill and how they can be reinforced or challenged.

‘Not to challenge a psychiatrist is no longer an option’

My journey to understand and critique potential unlawful compulsory admissions of learning-disabled people to hospital has been given added impetus by George Szmukler’s general examination of mental health legislation.

This has significantly affected my own practice in how I will conduct care and treatment reviews.

I will insist not only that I examine admission paperwork signed off by the responsible clinician but also that I am given written evidence to illustrate the behaviour on which the admission is founded. I will ask for evidence of how this was deemed to be directly linked to clinical status, not the outcome of some stimulus unconnected to the disability.

Not to challenge a psychiatrist is no longer an option.

Ken Stapleton is a social worker

Watching world events

There is a huge demand among people with learning disabilities for information that helps them understand global affairs and the news, says Alicia Wood.

Book club members reading


Over the past few years, with the pandemic, the Afghanistan refugee crisis and the war in Ukraine, world affairs have often felt frightening.

For people with learning disabilities, it can be even more overwhelming – particularly without an opportunity to talk about and understand what is happening.

In 2021, when Covid hit, Beyond Words first produced information and resources in response to current events. Our series of books and downloads covered topics such as vaccination, how to get through contracting Covid and even socialising and falling in love through lockdown.

The response was overwhelming. We had an unprecedented 50,000 downloads over the pandemic.

It is often assumed that people with learning disabilities are not interested in what is going on around them or do not have the capacity to make sense of it.
But, when we focus only on what we think is easy or important to understand, we limit someone’s ability to grow, to learn, to understand and to empathise with those who have different experiences.



People with learning disabilities learn about the news from what they see and hear and the anxieties and worries of others. Being able to understand what is happening in the wider world is key to engaging with your community and issues that may affect your life or emotions.

News, explained

It is important to make sure people have access to not only the news but also appropriate information. Often, written articles or television broadcasts are overly complex or filled with distressing imagery that can be difficult for people to process.

Little is aimed at people with learning disabilities – and even less dedicated to individuals who cannot read words at all.

Beyond Words is a London-based, not-for-profit organisation dedicated to helping people with learning disabilities or additional communication needs better understand and empathise with the world around them through word-free picture resources.

Founded by Professor Sheila the Baroness Hollins more than 30 years ago, Beyond Words uses pictures and visual literacy (so people can read pictures for information, essentially) to tell stories and start conversations.

What we create is targeted, appropriately, to the situations that affect people most, helping them to develop an understanding of everyday matters such as working, going to the hospital or making sense of their feelings. We have published 60 titles on these kinds of issues.

After the pandemic, we recognised the appetite for word-free information that makes news and world affairs more accessible.

We followed up our Covid work with a short version of a story about the refugee crisis in Afghanistan.

Earlier this year, we released the full-length book version of A Refugee’s Story, following extensive trialling in both learning disability and refugee communities.

This trialling took place at some of our 25 book clubs around the UK and at various local advocacy, social and community groups. This revealed thoughtful comments on the plight of refugees. The book increased awareness and brought in new understanding. Some groups even learned new vocabulary.

Some people were not aware of refugees at all but became interested, concerned and empathetic after reading the story. Others were much more aware than anyone had realised, even identifying a detention centre. People came away with a much greater understanding of refugees’ experiences.

Graham Stephens (not his real name), a member of one of our book clubs, had heard negative things about refugees from other people in his area.

When he started to read A Refugee’s Story, he said refugees were complaining about the food they got and should be grateful for what they were given.

While reading the book, however, Stephens reflected on how he would feel if he had to flee to a foreign country and eat unfamiliar food: “When you are feeling scared, you need food that makes you feel better. If I went to another country, I’d want burgers and chips.”

We are expanding our news-related information. Our latest short story, When the War Came, aims to explain the war in Ukraine and follows a woman and her children as they leave their home country.

There are others working to bring news to people with a more accessible format.

United Response, a charity supporting young people and adults with mental health needs and physical and learning disabilities, provides a regularly updated, easy-read version of news articles.


Access for all

The Accessible Information Standard was introduced in 2016 to make sure people with disabilities or sensory loss are able to get information more easily. Learning Disability England’s Accessible Information Campaign by lobbying the government to act on its promises in this area.

We believe everyone should have access to information in ways they can understand, no matter their level of ability.

Through stories, we can build understanding and empathy, enabling us to create relationships, be part of the world and contribute to the community.

It is time to start including people with learning disabilities in conversations about the world they live in as well as their own lives.

Alicia Wood is chief executive at Beyond Words




Prescription by film

To improve healthcare for all, people are sharing private concerns, difficult moments and practical suggestions in an animated video for health professionals, says Saba Salman.

Woman in wheelchair

“I can’t do text. I can’t read texts. I can’t do that like people can. And I say, ‘why you keep texting me? Can’t you phone me? Phone me. Like I phoned you this morning.’ ”

There is palpable frustration in these words from a patient describing how difficult she finds communicating with her GP. Her direct voice is one of five that feature in a film on the health inequalities experienced by people with learning disabilities.

The six-minute animation, circulated to GP surgeries in Surrey over the summer, presents professionals with testimonies from patients with learning disabilities. They describe a lack of accessible information, problems with medical jargon and appointments that are too short or held in inaccessible rooms.

The film is a collaboration between researchers from Surrey Heartlands – a partnership of health and care organisations, including Surrey County Council – and local learning disability charity the Sunnybank Trust. The trust supports around 300 people.

The project, funded by the NHS and Surrey Heartlands and produced by London animation studio Strange Beast, aims to raise awareness of the barriers to primary care and encourage healthcare staff to find solutions.

Researchers interviewed 25 people with learning disabilities in Surrey, London and Yorkshire, identifying common themes and stories that represented the main issues. They then interviewed five of the original participants and a parent carer to get more detailed testimonies. These were the basis of the animation.

Even before Covid-19’s disproportionate impact on people with learning disabilities, a vast amount of research had already outlined how they receive poor-quality healthcare. The reasons for this range from professionals’ lack of awareness about learning disability to doctors wrongly attributing a person’s behaviour to their disability rather than an illness.

The latest evidence of this inequality came in this year’s NHS-funded Learning from Lives and Deaths programme, an annual report into the avoidable deaths of people with learning disabilities.

It showed people with a learning disability continue to have a much shorter life expectancy than the general public, with six out of 10 dying before the age of 65, compared to one out of 10 people in the general population. Those with epilepsy and from minority ethnic backgrounds were more likely to die younger.

Despite this research and various steps aimed at closing the health inequality gap, problems remain. For example, take-up of annual health checks has been slow, not all GPs offer them to people with learning disabilities and not many are done on time. And not all medical professionals are aware of health passports people hold that contain clinical and other personal information.

Health passports overlooked

As one contributor to the film says: “Some doctors don’t always know that I’ve got slight learning difficulties and that’s why I need support with me to explain what they’ve got to do. But also, the hospital passport I carry – they don’t ever look at it.”

This is why Sunnybank Trust chief executive Dorothy Watson says she is proud of the individuals who took part in the film. She praises them for sharing private concerns and difficult moments to help improve health access for others.

The film also highlights some good practice. One relative says of the family member she supports: “So, during lockdown, we had the annual review over the phone. His mental health was affected very badly. The GP took her time, listened to him, listened to me and she said she was going to refer him to a social prescriber, and she even said, ‘I’m going to follow up on both of you’ – because she could see it was affecting my mental health as well.”

Another participant supported by Sunnybank says: “Sometimes, because the secretaries do know me… and I think I need a longer time to talk to the doctor, they do book me a double appointment.”

The project also reinforces the fact that some health problems are simple to treat once diagnosed, and a GP can often prevent a health condition from becoming serious with early identification.

Start with small changes

Those involved in the film are keen to highlight simple solutions for GP surgeries and beyond. Basic steps include using simple, accessible language, visual prompts, bigger text and bullet points, and keeping writing to a minimum.

A GP who familiarises themselves with a patient’s preferences and needs and who aims to be as flexible as possible can make all the difference.
“I’m all right if someone explains to me what they’ve got to do first,” explains one person. “They have to explain the reasons and what they’ve got to do step by step. It’s not just GPs – it’s doctors generally, when you’re in hospital or anywhere else. They need to put that in practice.”

Watch the film on YouTube.

Wonderful creations

A glossy book bursts with beautiful art in many forms, then gives insight and analysis. Simon Jarrett is impressed by An Octopus with Boomerangs – and finds out about the unusual name.

Floating Dancers in Blues by Nancy Clayton

The ambitious Intoart studio now has a collection of more than 3,000 works, with the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Arts Council among those that have bought artwork from the charity.

Intoart, based in south London, offers a full-time alternative art school programme to people with learning disabilities. It includes studio practice, inclusive learning, exhibition staging and publishing.

Following the collective’s successful recent exhibition at the Copeland Gallery in Peckham, Intoart has published a superb book, An Octopus with Boomerangs. Featuring the work of 17 of its artists, it is beautifully designed and lavishly produced in colour.

As well as the many reproductions of the artists’ work, the book features short sections of analysis, the voices of the artists about their own processes, selections from the Intoart collection and solo exhibitions from four Intoart artists. It is bursting with beautiful art in many forms – drawings, paintings, ceramics, prints and textiles.



Like any art book, it doesn’t come cheap (although for the number and quality of reproductions it contains it is very fairly priced at £30) so I would urge anyone with a love of art to scrimp and save as best they can to secure a copy.

Why the unusual title? Curator and writer George Vasey, in his introduction to the book, sees Intoart as an octopus, casting out its tentacles across museums, educational activities, publishing and selling from its studio – based on the centuries-old tradition of the artists’ workroom – in a converted car park in the inner city.

Vasey describes the artworks as boomerangs, thrown out into the world with the hope that something comes back. And there you are – it’s an Octopus with Boomerangs, naturally.

Featuring work produced by the artists over the past 22 years, the book is a celebration of Intoart’s history and of the boomerangs thrown out from the octopus.

The most striking features are the versatility, variety, originality and sheer quality of the works. It seems almost unfair to select a particular artist’s work, such is the consistent breadth of creativity displayed, but a star of the show for me is Nancy Clayton.

Clayton is a talented young dancer as well as an outstanding artist, and two of her paintings, The Floating Dancers in Blues and The Floating Dancers in Yellow and Green capture beautifully the fluidity, energy and passion of human beings when they dance.

Dance seems to be an inspiration for a number of the artists. Dawn Wilson’s striking drawings are inspired by black-and-white photos of street life and photographic studios in Bamoko in Mali, West Africa, and Kinshasa in Congo, Central Africa.

Her depictions of the seething energy and excitement of dance venues, and her ability to express the energy and joyfulness of young African fashionistas showing off their spectacular attire, form a graceful series of compelling drawings.

Christian Ovonlen is fascinated by dance stage sets, particularly those of the Ballets Russes, a legendary early 20th century Parisian dance company.
Ovenlen describes the thinking that produces his gorgeously coloured, almost abstract representations of these sets, some of them on striking hand-painted and printed silk.

“I close my eyes and imagine being at the theatre, in the audience scared of the dark and then happy when the stage lights shine. The dancers are dancing on the stage, I am hearing classical music. The dancers in my silks are like a melody.”

Some of the artists, such as Clifton Wright, Mawuena Kattah and Ntiense Eno-Amooquaye, have held solo exhibitions and sold work to major collections and are building national and international reputations. For many of the others, it seems only a matter of time before they embark on a similar journey – their work is certainly good enough.

While all the artists have learning disabilities, they talk about themselves as artists, not learning-disabled artists.

Clayton writes: “I want people to know that people with a disability can be artists. Not an outsider. Being an independent artist means getting work out there, moving forward and not being invisible with our disability.” Her use of the word “outsider” is significant. Art by people with learning disabilities is sometimes categorised as “outsider art”.

While I know this can be intended as a compliment, why automatically define learning-disabled artists in this way? The art is only outsider art if those who produce it are seen as outsiders.

The message from this magnificent book is that this is work that operates very much from the inside, combining skill and knowledge, and deserving of a place at the heart of contemporary culture. This is art happy to be judged on its own outstanding merits rather than stuffed into any special category.

Thank you to the 17 artists who have worked so hard to apply their talents and produce a body of absolutely outstanding work.

An Octopus with Boomerangs is on sale at Intoart.


Dancing Under the Coconut Tree – Bamako by Dawn Wilson



Floating Dancers in Blues by Nancy Clayton



Riding a horse on stage by Christian Ovonlen



Blue Patterned Top by Mawuena Kattah



Securing marriage with a free wife

Marriage was vital in Taiwan but immigrant ex-soldiers could only afford to marry women with no bride price, such as those with disabilities. This had lasting effects, says Susanna Shapland.


A family shopping in Taihoku in the 1940s: identity and livelihoods depended on kinship networks – Li Huozeng/Wikimedia Commons



In Taiwan, parents of children with learning disabilities were so keen for their offspring to be married that they looked overseas for “foreign brides” for their sons or tried to marry their daughters to “elderly veterans”, according to a Taipei Times report in 2000.

Primary motivating factors were to secure care for their child and to continue the family line, said the article, headed “Marriage among the mentally disabled”.

The context to the news report is what happened after Japan’s defeat at the end of the Second World War. In 1945, the victorious allied forces (Great Britain, the United States and the Soviet Union) entrusted the island of Taiwan to the Republic of China, led by Chiang Kai-Shek.

The subsequent resumption of the Chinese Civil War between nationalist and communist forces on mainland China and the ascendancy of the fortunes of Mao Zedong’s Chinese Communist Party, forced Generalissimo Chiang to evacuate his government to Taiwan in 1949. This made Taipei the Republic of China’s – supposedly temporary – capital.

Displaced soldiers arrive

Chiang brought with him around one million displaced persons, an estimated 600,000 of whom were soldiers. These people and their descendants were known as mainlanders (waishengren) as their ancestral home was not Taiwan.

Although many waishengren were perceived as privileged by the local population as they were part of the ruling power structure in Taiwan, in reality many were hugely disadvantaged.



Many Republic of China army veterans (known as “old taro”) were discharged without pensions or any provision in a country where they were perceived as outsiders. This was at a time when identities and livelihoods were based primarily on family and kinship networks.

Historian Joshua Fan, assistant professor at the University of Texas, calls them the “homeless generation” and highlights that they were not only ethnic but also economic outcasts.

In an effort to put down roots and start families, many old taro looked to marry. This was not easy, as their influx had skewed the ratio of men to women to possibly as much as 3:1.

Moreover, many were impoverished and alienated from mainstream society, and regarded as second-class citizens.

Chinese marriage customs demanded a pin jin (bride price) be paid to the bride’s parents, typically in a range of 8,000-30,000 New Taiwan dollars. To raise such a sum on their paltry pay (around a couple of hundred New Taiwan dollars a month), soldiers needed to save or borrow from their equally cash-strapped comrades.

Unmarriageable daughters, cheap wives

Another option was to find cheaper wives. Some soldiers found such women among the impoverished aboriginal rural communities. For others, there were families who considered their daughters simply unmarriageable, so potential husbands would not have to pay a bride price at all. These women were widows, divorcees, prostitutes and also those with physical and learning disabilities.

One veteran brutally described “compromise marriages”, such as his own, using the dehumanising metaphor of “picking up rotten oranges from the bottom of the barrel that no one else wants”.

Another described being tricked after he was introduced to a woman then married to her younger sister who had learning disabilities. Although he was angry, he conceded that he was at least married and this was “good enough”.

Families were happy to see their learning-disabled members married off due in part to a desire for grandchildren but also because care for relatives was a family responsibility under the Civil Code.

Even today, an estimated 90% of the 100,000 people with learning disabilities in Taiwan still live with their original families.

The Disability Act of 1980 provided services and financial support to Taiwanese people with learning disabilities but, before that, there was no support. With marriage, caring responsibilities passed from the family to the husband.

From marriage to institution

This was the case with Jenny, now in her 60s, whose story is told by Yueh-Ching Chou (2020); only her first name is given. Her grandmother had married her to an old taro in the hope they would start a family and he could become Jenny’s carer.

However, the marriage was a case of “old husband, young wife”, fairly typical for this type of arrangement, and Jenny’s husband died when she was around 30 years old. She was then sent to an institution.

Until 2000, institutions requested that residents were sterilised, but decisions to sterilise were typically made by relatives. Jenny’s grandmother decided to sterilise her after she had borne two children, both of whom were sent for adoption.

Institutionalisation is on the increase in Taiwan. However, after successful community living reform and social change over the past four decades, there are examples of people living independently, earning enough money to pay their rent and being educated about their rights under the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities.

But older people such as Jenny, her life restricted and regimented, her movements largely dictated by institution staff who residents are encouraged to call “teachers”, remain untouched by such changes.

Further reading: Chou YC. “My life in the institution” and “my life in the community”: policies and practices in Taiwan. In: Jarrett S, Walmsley, J, eds. Intellectual Disability in the Twentieth Century: Transnational Perspectives on People, Policy and Practice. Policy Press; 2021


A system that abuses those it is meant to serve


Simon Jarrett – 14 October 2022
The mind-boggling, exhausting struggles of six people against a benefits system that seems designed to obstruct them at every turn are followed in this disturbing book, says Simon Jarrett



Benefits on Trial by Neil Carpenter




Neil Carpenter, an advocate who supports people in their battles with the benefits system, has returned to the themes of his 2018 book Austerity’s Victims with this account of a group of people with learning disabilities in Cornwall who find themselves at the mercy of the Department of Work and Pensions (DWP).

In Benefits on Trial, we follow the mind-boggling, exhausting struggles of six people against a system seemingly designed to obstruct them at every turn.

Often and shamefully, after long battles during which people can be deprived of their benefits for more than a year, the DWP will suddenly make offers of payment shortly before a tribunal hearing.

The sole purpose of this is to prevent their numerous inaccuracies, inefficiencies, blatant falsehoods and absurd decisions from being aired in public.

If cases do reach tribunal, DWP decisions are often overturned by the judge within minutes or even before anyone sets foot in the courtroom. People get their entitlements but end up exhausted and mentally broken by the battle.

This is the impact of the government department designed to support the poorest in society. It is, at its heart, a system that abuses those it is meant to serve.



People with learning disabilities are, inevitably, among those who suffer most. The DWP requires them to read complicated letters, make phone calls involving waits of over 40 minutes to get through, complete 33-page forms within tight deadlines and attend assessment meetings involving lengthy travel where they face a barrage of difficult questions.

If they trip up at any point during what Carpenter calls an “obstacle course”, they face losing their benefits altogether – despite their obvious entitlement to them.

In his conclusion, Carpenter analyses in detail the shocking inadequacies of the system.

In their initial assessments, all but one of the people whose cases he describes were awarded no points at all for their needs in relation to daily living and mobility needs. By tribunal stage, every one of them had been awarded enough points to qualify easily for the benefits they were claiming. One gained an astonishing 35 points.

For a medical professional to have awarded no points to this person in their initial assessment was not an unfortunate error – it was a casual, callous and deliberate attempt to bully a person seen as weak out of their entitlement and out of the support system altogether. Carpenter describes this as “a cynical pattern of injustice”.

Carpenter is a gifted writer (and clearly a powerful advocate) and describes these stories of injustice in a compelling and moving way. It is not possible to read this book without feeling real anger on behalf of those who are abused by this system.

The question remains – what is to be done? The author lists a helpful series of issues that the DWP must address, ranging from better-quality assessors to a change in the attritional culture that grinds people down until they lose the will to fight.

However, how can change happen in the face of what seems to be such an intractable problem and a weighted system? We are all angry about it, but online activists sharing their anger with other online activists will have little effect.

There is a momentum building for a new nationwide strategy on learning disability. A critical component of any new strategy must be adaptation and adjustments to the benefits system and significant changes in the DWP’s approach, all of it legally enforceable.

Only then will this nightmarish statutory abuse of people with learning disabilities begin to shift. Neil Carpenter reminds us why this is such an urgent priority.

Benefits on Trial by Neil Carpenter is available on Amazon for £2.83


When power of attorney is invalid

A lasting power of attorney granted more than a decade ago has been revoked by the courts, which found the person did not have the capacity to agree to it at the time. Anyone involved in making such an arrangement needs to get it right first time, advises Belinda Schwehr.

Hands on table at meeting

More than five million people in the UK have lasting power of attorney agreements (LPA), a system used by families to manage their loved ones’ affairs.

Given LPAs’ widespread use, it is significant that the court of protection recently overturned one such agreement granted to relatives in 2009 to a man
aged 60 at the time of the court hearing. It was revoked when its validity came into question more than a decade after being granted.

Why? The judge decided that the man, who has a learning disability and schizophrenia, had lacked capacity at the time it was drawn up.

No capacity, no authority

If the man did not have capacity to execute the LPA, then no authority had been given to his relatives to manage his affairs.

This judgment underlines that the test for granting LPAs for property and finance matters rests on more than merely knowing that you need help regarding money and going along with the idea that this would be beneficial.



The test for granting an LPA rests on more than merely knowing you need help and going along with the idea that this would be beneficial

It also offers much-needed clarity on what must be considered what people should consider when setting up an LPA. In making his decision, Mr Justice Poole stated that “although it is not uncommon for the courts to determine past capacity to execute an LPA, there is a dearth of published authority on the issue”.

LPAs, introduced in 2007, enable a person (the donor) to grant someone they trust (the attorney) the legal authority to make decisions on their behalf if they lose mental capacity in the future.

This attorney decides on issues about the donor’s welfare, money or property. LPAs are legal documents and are registered with the Office of the Public Guardian (OPG).

The man at the heart of the case lived in a care home. In 2019, the home manager raised concerns with the OPG about the management of his financial affairs. This triggered the court case.

Back in 2009, however, everything seemed in order. The man was over 18 at the time the LPA was made, the correct form was used, formalities were complied with, the requirements for execution under the regulations were met and the OPG duly registered the LPA.

His relatives said he did have capacity then and that JH, the legal executive who was the certificate provider (the independent person required to sign and witness the document) at the law firm clearly assessed his capacity at the time.

The man’s relatives said he had deteriorated significantly since 2009 because of the dual impact of having to move out of the family home and the death of his mother.

Family members told the court of his love of the arts, his enjoyment of books (including at one point, a series of books about Queen Victoria) and his pleasure in playing the banjo.

When he lived with his mother, for example, he would go to the shops by himself, sometimes to buy ingredients with which he would cook them both a meal. He used local buses.

Even now, they said, he remained independent in dressing, preparing and eating food, and with his personal hygiene.

The judge said that it was always necessary to consider what constituted “relevant information” in relation to executing an LPA.

A donor should understand what an LPA is, why they want to make it, who they are appointing as attorney, why they have chosen this person and what powers they are being given.

If a donor is able to retain this relevant information for only a short period, this does not mean they not able to such a decision.

To have the capacity to execute an LPA, the donor should be able to understand, retain and use the relevant information.

The degree of understanding needed to create an enduring power of attorney was considered in a previous case, Re K, Re F in 1988. A later case, Re Collis in 2010, is the only one that concerns how much capacity one needs for an LPA.

Essentially, a person must be able to read or be able to say that the document has been explained to them and that it expresses their intention and their choice.

In the case of the 60-year-old man, JH had written his credentials against his signature on the LPA form: “Executive in legal firm – long term experience in creating EPAs and LPAs and ability to assess donor’s capacity to understand what an LPA is – it’s [sic] importance – and the effect of the powers that are being given.”

JH did not mention on the form that the man had a learning disability. The court noted this and said it had no information about JH.
The firm he worked for no longer existed. The court could not know if he was still in practice would be able to shed light on his experience in 2009 of dealing with people with a learning disability, on his usual practice or on the events involving this LPA client.

No recall of advice

In oral evidence, one family member remembered that the meeting in private between JH and the man had lasted about 30 minutes. She did not witness JH giving advice or an explanation of the LPA.

She thought, though, that her relative had understood because he had said afterwards that he had signed a very important paper and he was aware
that his relatives would be looking after his money.

In 2009, he could handle “pocket money” given to him rather than managing all his finances himself, she added. He had deteriorated significantly in recent years.

The man might have understood he was signing something important to do with money but not the scope of the LPA powers

In 2019, the evidence from the care home was that “he has been assessed and deemed safe to go out into the village unaccompanied most days. However… he will compulsively buy sweets and toys so his pocket money is rationed each day… and he will spend whatever he has in his pocket and has been caught shoplifting on several occasions.”

The man might have understood he was signing something important, it was to do with money and people he knew and trusted were going to look after this for him.

However, the evidence showed he had no understanding of the scope of the LPA powers, when they could be used or the consequences of not signing the document.

Consultant in old-age psychiatry Dr Andrew Ntanda told the court the man did not understand what he was signing or the consequences.

“I asked [him] about the LPA and he said ‘I can remember signing something when my mum was with us. They were doing this will thing and they wondered how long it would be and whatever at the time’.

“I tried to explain what an LPA was – he still didn’t understand or retain the information I presented to him.

“He was not aware that both [family members] were his attorneys. He stated that one sorted out his money, and that he had nothing to do with that person’s wife. He wasn’t aware that she was also an attorney.

“He didn’t understand what authority an LPA had, nor why it might be necessary or expedient to revoke the power. He didn’t want the LPA revoked and said… he wouldn’t want anyone else to look into his finances.”

Ntanda’s opinion was the man’s learning disability would have been static and it was is likely he would have also lacked capacity to execute an LPA in 2009.

The family’s evidence about the man’s deterioration did not persuade the court that his ability to understand, retain and use the relevant information would have been materially different in December 2009 than at the time of Ntanda’s assessment.

The court accepted, though, that it should not set the bar too high.

Furthermore, the fact that a person may not have understood every provision in the LPA or every possible consequence of making it (or not) does not necessarily mean they could not have understood explanations given in an appropriate way, for example by using simple language.

Taking all this into account, the court decided that the LPA had not been validly made in 2009.

Ideally, the court said, where there is a dispute about past capacity which the court is required to determine, it would be helpful to have certain evidence (see bottom of this page).

There was absolutely no suggestion of the man being unduly influenced. The evidence showed that his mother wanted to make arrangements to provide for him in the event of her death and was advised to create an LPA.

He was then asked to the solicitor’s office to sign the documentation.

He did not instigate the process but was complying with one initiated by his mother.

In that situation, under section 14 of the Mental Capacity Act 2005, those given power of attorney are protected in relation to what they thought they had powers to do, unless they knew an LPA had not been created or there were circumstances that would have terminated their authority to act.

This important case exposes the pitfalls in the power of attorney process and underlines the vital need to get it right first time.



Evidence needed to show capacity in the past


This case highlighted the evidence required in case of a dispute about past capacity at the time a lasting power of attorney (LPA) had been made. The judge said the following information would help courts reach a decision:

  • The certificate provider’s experience, their usual practice or their recollections of making that LPA
  • Evidence from carers and family about someone’s capacity to execute an LPA and about changes in their condition that could affect this over time
  • Medical evidence, capacity assessments, benefits assessments, records from carers or activity centres and other professional evidence roughly contemporaneous with the date of the LPA
  • An assessment by a suitably qualified and experienced person of current capacity, and their reasoned opinion as to their capacity to execute the LPA at the time




Case reports
The Public Guardian v RI and Ors (2022) EWCOP 22. 
Re K, Re F [1988] 1 All ER 358 (quoted in Re Collis)
Re Collis. 27 October 2010 (unreported). National Archives.


Insights from stories of pandemic life, the history of self-advocacy and working in academia

Juliet Diener reviews studies on how telling stories helps people make sense of life in the time of Covid, self-advocacy’s dynamic history and employing a researcher with a learning disability.


Juliet Diener reviews studies on how telling stories helps people make sense of life in the time of Covid, self-advocacy’s dynamic history and employing a researcher with a learning disability.





Telling their pandemic stories

Bartlett T, Charlesworth P, Choksi A, Christian P, Gentry S, Green V, Grove N, Hart C, Kwiatkowska G, Ledger S, Murphy S, Tilley L, Tokley K. Surviving through story: experiences of people with learning disabilities in the covid19 pandemic 2020–2021. British Journal of Learning Disabilities. 2022;50(2):270-286.  https://doi.org/10.1111/bld.12463



Identifying the importance of allowing people with learning disabilities to share their stories and to have these stories documented as part of mainstream history led to the Surviving through Story project.

Supported by the Open University’s Social History of Learning Disability Research Group, the Generate charity and the Three Ways School in Bath, groups and various advisory members came together to create an interactive, online resource to allow people with disabilities to share their stories through the Covid-19 pandemic.




Offering storytelling as a means to bring about social change, the researchers provided a forum that was safe, accessible and purposeful.
It made sure the disabled person’s voice was heard as they experienced the changes, loss and uncertainty that the pandemic evoked, as well as exploring new ways of being in the world.

For storytelling to be successful, the website “needed to be a space accessible to and directed by people with learning disabilities themselves, allowing content to grow organically in response to the contributions received, the evolving pandemic situation and new ideas”.

The website (https://www.survivingthroughstory.com) offered a sensory experience of sharing personal histories through a variety of accessible means to meet a range of needs.

What the storytellers shared about the pandemic was profound, highlighting sadness, loneliness, fear and despair. However, there was also hope as the stories offered insights, a means of connecting, opportunities to be heard and a creative release while navigating the endless difficulties of the pandemic. Various themes emerged such as grief, as shared by Susie Gentry.

She explains her reason for sharing her story after losing her long-term partner:

“I wanted to help other people. I wanted to tell them what had helped me. Because I had lost Ron, I knew how they were feeling and how hard it can be.”

Ajay Choksi shared his experiences of having the vaccine: “I got my vaccination in March, the Oxford one. Next day, my arm was hurting, when I was trying to use my arm, it was hurting, it was a little bit painful. But no headache or anything. Now I have both of my jabs. Yes!”

The narratives helped the authors to make sense of their experiences and created an opportunity for their histories to be recorded.

This research is filled with rich stories, clear visuals and an engaging website that now offers an archive of experiences of people with learning disabilities during the pandemic. This allows their voices to be heard loud and clear and their contribution to be considered as decisions are made and policies written.



History of self-advocacy

Walmsley J, Davies I, Garratt D. 50 Years of speaking up in England – towards an important history. British Journal of Learning Disabilities. 2022:50(2):208-219. https://doi.org/10.1111/bld.12453



Celebrating 50 years of self-advocacy, which prompted change for and by people with learning disabilities, this research project was set up to capture the histories of this significant movement. As people with learning disabilities are under-represented within scholarly and historical writings, the authors worked to make sure this history was recorded.

With authors donning masks and meeting between lockdowns, the research was generated through 10 questions that were answered by early leaders of self-advocacy, allies and supporters.

With no funding and pandemic restrictions, the authors found technology was a welcome support as interviews were conducted mostly online.
While attempts were made to interview most of the leading advocates of the time, it posed problems. Nonetheless, those involved offered a vast range of experiences and reflections.

Following the interviews, a timeline was drawn alongside various themes from the transcripts. The timeline is significant, giving context to and illustrating the development of the actions of self-advocacy, and offering insights from both individual and group advocacy that “preceded the founding of collective self‐advocacy in England”.

Self-advocate Wendy Perez stresses: “I have always spoken up for myself – even when younger, I made my own decisions. I just did it. My family encouraged me… You shouldn’t need an organisation to speak up. It shouldn’t be that way.”

The early gatherings of self-advocates were deemed as participatory with the emphasis being on “mutual learning and understanding”. In the 1980s, this shifted, with gatherings becoming more about promoting independence and rights.

Walmsley, Davies and Garratt give a fascinating account of how various events and policy decisions led to the ever-evolving history of self-advocacy.
They leave the reader with a thirst for more as this research paper is merely “a first step in recording the stories of early leaders of self‐advocacy and recognising their contributions”. They name the difficulties and misses alongside the achievements and successes, prompting a call to action.

As self-advocate Danielle Garratt concludes: “If we don’t record these stories, they will be lost forever and people will never know how our movement started.”



Recruiting a researcher

Anderson RJ, Keagan‐Bull R, Giles J, Tuffrey‐Wijne I. “My name on the door by the professor’s name”: the process of recruiting a researcher with a learning disability at a UK university. 2022. https://doi.org/10.1111/bld.12477



The value of people with learning disabilities as co-researchers has been established in recent studies and is shared in this article. However, being employed within a tertiary education setting is more unusual and requires adjustments by universities.

People with learning disabilities bring value to their role in sharing lived experience in the field of inclusive research. This value should be supported through paid employment and opportunities to contribute actively to research projects.

This study identifies significant barriers to employment, which begin with the application process.

For the applicant, concern regarding a loss of benefits from taking up work was a notable barrier. While initial barriers in managing a contract and simplifying the application process could be addressed, the long-term management of supporting a learning-disabled employee requires flexibility in approach and budgeting to allow support to continue beyond the interview. Finding solutions to the barriers identified meant the applicant could accept the position.

The research presents a variety of perspectives, namely the line manger seeking to fulfil a role, the human resources manager who managed the recruitment process and the successful applicant who was offered the role of research assistant.

Recruiting and supporting a research assistant with learning disabilities need a whole-team approach as planning and working together require ongoing support and adjustments to working culture.

The findings in this paper offer guidance on making employment more accessible to people with learning disabilities.

Research assistant Richard Keagan‐Bull wrote about his experience of working in research in the last issue. He says: “It is important to make things accessible for people with a learning disability as it’s important for them to be able to do jobs in an equal and accessible world.”


New editor, new sponsors

Community Living Magazine welcomesa new editor and new sponsors.

Saba Salman

Simon Jarrett

Simon Jarrett: six years as editor



Editor: goodbye and hello

In announcing the departure of our editor Simon Jarrett, the board of Community Living Initiatives is experiencing a curious and unexpected emotional state.

We are very sad to lose our excellent Simon and are deeply grateful to him but thrilled that he has softened the blow by bringing to the table such a worthy and exciting successor as Saba Salman.

Beating a path from print to digital for a beloved, niche magazine such as Community Living is no mean feat. Managing to do that while improving the quality and balance of articles, the diversity of opinion and point of view, the feel and look of cover and content (and all on a shoestring) is quite something. For the last six years, our editor Simon has done just that – and more.

Academic, historian and author of seminal book Those They Called Idiots, Simon has been immersed in understanding and improving the lives and fortunes of people with learning disabilities for his whole career. And how this showed – in his commissioning of content, his incisive editorial and his unerring commitment to promoting inclusion and equality.

Community Living’s new editor, Saba Salman, is a well-known and highly respected journalist. She is an award-winning writer for The Guardian, The Independent and Byline Times and the author and editor of human rights anthology Made Possible, a book influenced by her disabled sister Raana and described by the right honourable Sir Norman Lamb as “a call to arms”.

Saba also chairs the charity Sibs, which supports the brothers and sisters of disabled people, and is an ambassador for social change organisation NDTi (National Development Team for Inclusion).

Farewell and thank you Simon. You have been a dream to work with on our journey towards bigger readership and greater influence in the fight for the rights of people with learning disabilities and autistic people.

Welcome Saba. With your auspicious arrival, the fight continues and the gloves are off.

Jo Clare




Active Prospects - Associate sponsor


Active Prospects is a Surrey-based charitable care provider that supports autistic people and people with a learning disability or a mental health need. We have been around since 1989 and employ over 350 staff to support around 250 people each year.

Our purpose is to support people to lead aspiring lives. We see ourselves as more than a care provider – we want to create opportunities for people to achieve their aspirations in life.

Although budgets are tight, we felt it was important to show our support for Community Living magazine by becoming an associate sponsor. We are specialists in giving people with a learning disability a voice: we set up the Pro-Active Community in 2015 as a co-production body of people we support and, since then, it has grown into an award-winning independent charity. Community Living has a long track record of helping people with a learning disability to influence change and we want to support that.

https://activeprospects.org.uk



Paradigm - Associate sponsor


Paradigm is about encouraging all – people with a learning disability, their families, organisations and communities – to explore what more is possible.

Boundless in energy and aspiration, Paradigm is a development and training organisation with a passion for supporting people with a learning disability to live lives they choose.

The success of our work is based on our commitment to co-facilitation and ability to bring people together to imagine what more is possible and plan action.
Through a range of work including the Reach Standards in support for living, the Gr8 Support Movement, Individual Life Designs, co-producing strategies and more, we help dust off the cobwebs, re-energise tired thinking and banish institutionalised thinking and behaviour. We are all about making human rights real and freeing people to live good ordinary lives.

After 12 years of working with Community Living’s editorial board, we look forward to and remain committed to sharing great stories, challenges and learning in a way that encourages all to protect human rights and to keep speaking up when we see them being eroded.


Pitfalls of shift to universal credit

The final transfer of claimants to universal credit is getting under way. Charlie Callanan looks at how best to manage the move and not lose out.

Disability premiums in legacy benefits are not replicated in universal credit


After false starts and long delays, the government is now pushing ahead to transfer all existing claimants of older means-tested benefits onto universal credit. The Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) resumed the managed migration process to achieve this in May.

Claimants of working age who are getting one or more of these “legacy benefits” (such as income-related employment and support allowance and housing benefit) will at some point be told these will stop, and that they must claim universal credit.

They will be sent a letter advising them that they must start the process to claim the benefit within three months. The government’s aim is to complete the migration of all affected claimants by December 2024.

Claimants could go through managed or natural migration. The latter refers to when a change of circumstances forces someone to claim universal credit. For example, if a claimant moves to a rental property in a different local authority area, they would not be able to make a new claim for housing benefit but would have to claim universal credit instead to get help with housing costs.


The minister’s approach may indicate a ‘get it done’ rather than a ‘get it right’ approach to universal credit migration

Better or worse off?

Professionals working with clients claiming means-tested benefits need to be aware of the potential risks of “voluntary migration”, where some claimants may choose to claim universal credit in the belief that they will be better off.

Indeed, the DWP has said that its “modelled estimates” suggest that around 1.4 million households could be better off by migrating immediately.
However, advice workers are worried that DWP staff are encouraging customers to move onto universal credit, without first helping them check if migration would leave them better or worse off.

A government minister has even said that the Help to Claim scheme – dedicated to assisting people with universal credit applications – cannot be used to first advise claimants whether they should claim the benefit or not.

Given that Help to Claim is run by Citizens Advice, the largest provider of independent advice services across the UK, the minister’s approach may indicate a “get it done” rather than a “get it right” approach to universal credit migration.

Of the remaining 2.6 million people on legacy benefits, nearly half are receiving employment and support allowance (ESA). By implication, a large proportion of those who have to be transferred to universal credit will have a disability.

In the longer term, many of them will be worse off, mainly because the disability premiums in legacy benefits are not replicated in universal credit.

Protection – for the short term

There is transitional protection intended to make up for this loss at least in the short term. This means claimants receiving a disability premium get a top-up of normal benefit rates to ensure that the amount they get when they transfer to universal credit is as much as their former entitlement.

Although this protection is welcome, the level of transitional protection will not be uprated (unlike general benefit rates), so its value will diminish over time. In addition, certain changes in the claimant’s circumstances will mean transitional protection is eroded or lost completely.

And there will be disabled people who miss the protection entirely, as it applies only to claims made via managed migration. So, if a disabled claimant is forced to migrate because of a change of circumstances or chooses to move, they will not get the top-up.

Without walking a client through a full check, it is difficult to predict for sure whether they will be better or worse off under universal credit.
Certain circumstances can, however, indicate a potential increase to or loss of income.

Claimants who could be better off claiming universal credit include:

  • ESA support group claimants who are not getting the severe disability premium
  • In-work households receiving housing benefit only or working tax credit and housing benefit; they are likely to have higher entitlements as universal credit is withdrawn less quickly as earnings rise than legacy benefits
  • People who do not work enough hours to receive working tax credit as universal credit may be paid on top of wages, regardless of hours worked.

Types of claimant who might see a lower entitlement include:

  • People getting ESA that includes the severe disability premium and/or enhanced disability premium
  • Households with the lower disabled child addition in legacy benefits
  • Self-employed people who are subject to the minimum income floor, once the 12-month grace period that allows for lower earnings during a start-up period has ended.
  • There are a number of factors and issues at play in whether a client is better off waiting for their universal credit migration letter from DWP or applying for the benefit before then. Once a claimant leaves legacy benefits, they will be unable to return to them.

As so often is said in these pages, they should seek advice from an experienced welfare benefits adviser before making any final decision. n

More information

Disability Rights UK. Should I stay or should I go? Get independent advice before you claim universal credit. 2022. https://tinyurl.com/7kfzvuwx


Holiday costs as a Care Act need

A council was wrong to decide it did not have the power to assist two disabled men to go on holiday. The courts rejected its restrictive approach in favour of a wider interpretation of care and support under the 2014 Care Act, reports Belinda Schwehr.


The court found that if a person’s needs arising from their disabilities could be met through going on a holiday, then the cost of it could be met under Care Act provisions – Photo: Christy Lawrance




It will come as no surprise to readers that a legal decision about meeting needs by funding a holiday is being appealed.

B, R (on the application of) v Suffolk County Council allowed that it was possible to meet needs by funding a holiday, which must be causing consternation among budget-minders in local authorities.

Holiday support costs have been accepted as disability-related expenditure for many years after the Cornwall case in 2009, but neither support costs nor the holiday cost for the client have been widely accepted as part of the package itself.

Those who can remember the excitement of the personalisation movement (before austerity hit) might well say “So what?” to news of this decision, because they were sure that personal budgets (whether managed or as direct payments) could be spent on whatever the person wanted as long as the budget sum was not exceeded.

Fifteen years on, many will rue ever having fallen for that one, because by now councils are bound to have reclaimed at least some funds for non-use or, worse, misuse of the budget.

Even the much-vaunted flexibility through a direct payment turned out to be only a small freedom – to use the money to meet one’s assessed eligible needs, with choice only as to timing and manner, not overall hours or rate, nor the choice to leave some of those needs completely unmet while blowing the rest on deficits that subjectively mattered “more”.



Needs not unwarranted luxury

The Suffolk case means, however, that recreational activities, trips and holidays can be framed as means to meet eligible needs for care and support rather than as unwarranted luxury desires.

Naturally, it helps if the activities conceivably address or prevent longer-term issues, by, for example, staving off social isolation, loneliness, depression or chronic anxiety.

In the Suffolk case, two autistic and physically disabled brothers were being cared for by their mother on a round-the-clock basis. Their history was accepted to have rendered them unable to tolerate external carers in their home nor trust anyone outside the family.

Holidays and recreational activities had previously been seen as a key form of respite for the family concerned, and were thus already deemed essential to the wellbeing of the two claimants.

Their 2011 council-assessed care packages (including direct payments) permitted them to have access to the community by enabling such things
as family outings, various activities and holidays.

Physical and mental health and emotional welfare via the unmet need for some form of participation in recreation had been overlooked

After 2013, their respite budget also covered such needs. Then the budget was cut on the purported basis that things such as travel, accommodation and entrance fees to attractions could not count as Care Act services for meeting needs.

Rather than even trying to articulate how those needs may have lessened, Suffolk erred in law by deciding that the concept of support (under the Care Act 2014) could no longer include the funding of recreational activities.

The council had adopted an overly narrow, rigid interpretation of the legislative framework, the court held. Suffolk had tailored the two brothers’ needs assessment to be consistent with the council’s restrictive reading of the scope of the Care Act 2014.

The care provided by the mother was framed as the brothers’ only identified need. As she was still able and willing to continue caring for them – despite the sharp loss of previously given state support and her evident exhaustion – it was argued that the council’s statutory obligations under section 18(7) of the 2014 act had therefore been fully met.

The court found “the claimants’ Care Act eligibility assessments were deliberately drafted so as to reflect the council’s restrictive stance on eligible needs, with the focus on any need for care, and the exclusion of financial support for goods and facilities, in this case, the cost of accessing recreational facilities”.

Mrs Justice Lang was “unable to find any statutory basis for the restrictive interpretation of needs adopted by the council”.

The cut was made in spite of in-house professionals’ recommendations, who stressed the brothers’ desire to access recreational activities in the community and highlighting the benefits for wellbeing as a consequence of participation.

Physical and mental health and emotional welfare, via the unmet need for some form of participation in recreation, in addition to their domestic, family and personal relationships, had been overlooked by senior management.

Mrs Justice Lang found that the council “ought to have considered whether or not to exercise its powers under s19 of the Care Act 2014 before reaching its decision to cease all direct payments to the claimants”.

Interestingly, the local authority still seemed to suggest that the support needed “to achieve” a holiday (rather than pay for it) could be deemed
eligible for council funding as “a Care Act eligible need”.

Such thinking may be grounded in the contention that certain costs universal to everyone are not supposed to be funded under the Care Act. Whereas this feels instinctively correct for food, rent and other daily living expenses, the cost of items such as food and eating out, travel or entrance tickets will often be the key components of any respite-led experience.

It does seem clear that there is no right to purely financial support in the Care Act for ordinary living expenses. There is a right to a direct payment (money in lieu of some other means of meeting a need) and there are key passages that explain that “support” must mean something other than “care”.
A budget can be converted into cash via a direct payment arrangement, provided the conditions for this are met, but that is only because direct payments are the cash-based option, instead of the service (or other thing) being provided.

There is case law confirming that the one thing the NHS Act 2006 did not permit was the provision of general monetary support in cash. The Harrison case made it clear in 2009 that the definition of “services” within the NHS legislation did not cover the concept of financial assistance or cash: separate legislation specifically providing for the provision of personal health budgets was therefore required.

The old Chronically Sick and Disabled Persons Act 1970 referred to “assistance to take a holiday”. This has not been replicated in the Care Act, but the broader words “goods” and “facilities” have been added. This is surely significant.

A need, not a choice

The holiday cost was asserted to be outside the concept of care and support and outwith the broader concept of “facilities” under section 8.

The decision in Suffolk holds that the funding needed for a holiday can be seen as support if it is to pay for a response to an assessed eligible need. Support has been found to connote something in the way of looking after someone, rather than financially subsidising a person’s choices.

The need for care and support arises from the person’s inability to achieve within a given eligibility domain. A holiday does not look after a person but the price of access to such a thing might be a “facility” for meeting a need, even though a holiday is a mainstream pleasure as well.

Participation in recreation is specifically mentioned within the Care and Support (Eligibility Criteria) Regulations (2014), as are such matters as social and economic wellbeing, emotional and psychological welfare, and the promotion of familial and personal relationships within the wellbeing function itself.

The court agreed that if the professional view was that the claimants’ assessed needs (arising from their disabilities) could be met through a holiday or other recreational activities, then the cost of the holiday to the disabled person is a need that can be met under the 2014 Care Act.

It is worth noting that the high court exercised its discretion in Suffolk to waive the three-month time limit for a claim. Mr Justice Mostyn had stressed that there were “clearly arguable points of law which these seriously impaired claimants should be entitled as a matter of justice to place before the court”.

The state has a human rights-based duty to promote and protect family life, and the Care Act reflects that by including “domestic, family and personal relationships” in the features of the wellbeing duty.

The underpinning principles of human dignity and the right to achieve and enjoy some level of individual autonomy are referenced through the Suffolk judgment.

Article 19 of the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, although non-binding, reminds states of their obligations to support “full inclusion and participation in the community” so as to alleviate or prevent isolation or segregation.

Various NGOs in the UK have reiterated the seriousness of the difficulties experienced by many carers, particularly given the “additional financial burdens that families with a disabled member… may face”.


However, the Suffolk appeal could well see the Court of Appeal adopting the approach taken in scarcity of resource cases such as McDonald (2011). The local authority’s approach was found to have been carried out in the pursuit of a legitimate aim, namely the protection of “the economic well-being of the state and the interests of other care users”.

It could be that Care Act functions come to be seen not so much as the means for ensuring that the state meets the needs of vulnerable individuals (taking account of standards in a civilised society) but as about offering some form of visible “assessment of priorities in the context of the allocation of limited state resources” to lend some semblance of fairness and equity to the system.

The number of judicial reviews about rights to care and support has markedly decreased in recent years. Suffolk is perhaps best viewed as a useful reminder that an error of law contention can often be much more powerful and effective than one that is grounded only in irrationality or even a breach of human rights.

  • Editor’s note 26 July 2022: Suffolk County Council was unsuccessful in its appeal.

Cases in this report

BG and Anor, R (on the application of) v Suffolk County council [2021] EWHC 3368 (Admin). https://www.bailii.org/ew/cases/EWHC/Admin/2021/3368.html

B, R (on the application of) v Cornwall County Council & Anor [2009] EWHC 491 (Admin). http://www.bailii.org/ew/cases/EWHC/Admin/2009/491.html

Harrison, R (on the application of) v Secretary of State for Health & Ors [2009] EWHC 574 (Admin). http://www.bailii.org/ew/cases/EWHC/Admin/ 2009/574.html

McDonald, R (on the application of) v Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea [2011] UKSC 33. http://www.bailii.org/uk/cases/UKSC/2011/33.html


Many ways to meet needs.

Because a person’s needs are specific to them, there are many ways in which these needs can be met.

The intention behind the legislation is to encourage this diversity, rather than point to a service or solution that may be neither what is best nor what the person wants.

Statutory guidance to the Care Act 2014 (2015, section 10.10)


Life after losing Ronnie

During the pandemic, Susie Gentry’s husband Ronnie died. She shares her memories and discusses some of the things that have helped her to cope with grief and look ahead.

Ronnie and I were together for 25 years before we got married. We got married in 2005 and we had a good and nice life together. We were very happy. After we got married, we moved into our own flat and this is where I live today.

When my Ronnie passed away, I was very sad and miserable. He woke up on a Friday morning saying he had a pain in his chest and he couldn’t get up. I called an ambulance and the ambulance came. He went to the hospital.

Then the doctor phoned me and said that Ronnie was very ill. I was very upset because I couldn’t visit because of the pandemic. I kept phoning to see how he was.

On the Saturday morning, the nurse called me and said: “I’m very sorry Susie but your husband passed away at 5.45 in the morning.”

I said to the nurse, “Did he say anything about me?” and she said, “Yes, he was talking about you and going out with you on his birthday.”

Losing Ronnie was a very big shock. When Ronnie passed away, we had been married for 15 years and had been together for 40 years. This happened at the start of the pandemic but he did not have Covid.

Friends to look after me

When I went to his funeral, I was very upset. It was good that I had friends who looked after me and they gave me a cuddle. After that my friends did their best to cheer me up – they took me out to lunch and phoned me.

My carers and the managers were very good to me. It was in the Covid time so you couldn’t see many people. They looked after me.

On the table in our lounge, there is a colour magazine with our wedding photo and a story that the staff wrote about our wedding. I kept looking at that every day and I kept remembering my Ronnie.

After Ronnie died, I began to write my stories because I liked to remember him. I also wanted to help other people who might have lost their husbands, wives, sons, daughters or a grandparent. At that time, lots of people died of Covid.

Anyone who has lost someone can read my stories at any time on the Surviving Through Story website (see link at the end). If like me they feel sad because they have lost a loved one, I hope it will make them feel a bit better.

I also wrote about Ronnie in a book. Since then, lots of my friends have signed this book and it is another way of remembering Ronnie.

Ronnie and I used to do lots of things together. We went out to meet friends and for meals and to the pub. We went on holiday together to lots of places.

After Ronnie passed away, I was on my own much more. Now I’ve started to make some new friends and spend time with them. Some of them are neighbours from my flats.

Making friends

When I could go out again I went with my carers and my neighbour and friend to play bingo and ludo for the first time. I found I enjoyed it and made new friends.

It’s helped me a lot now I’m doing more things like going out, playing games, having tea and making friends I can chat with. Every week I go to bingo in the flats with my friend who lives near me. I always say “good evening” to all my friends and they all say “good evening” to me.

The second Christmas after Ronnie died, it was safe to go out again. My friends invited me to a Christmas dinner and I went out with them. I had a Christmas dinner with them on Christmas day in the flats where I live.

On new year’s day, I had a buffet dinner with them. I enjoyed this a lot and it made me feel better to be with other people.

This summer, I’m not going on holiday like I used to do with Ronnie but instead I’m going with my friends and my carers to watch an air show and on some special days out.

Read Susie Gentry’s stories about her life with Ronnie at https://www.survivingthroughstory.com/post/remembering-our-wedding

Your healthy kit bag

Red bags containing belongings, medication and paperwork are improving healthcare and shortening hospital stays – and are likened to portable support workers, writes Debbie Palmer.

GP and patient

A huge range of health inequalities are experienced by people with a learning disability. Their average life expectancy is 18 years less (for women) and 14 years less (for men) compared to the general population.

Choice Support is running a project in Wakefield involving a red bag, which aims to address these inequalities and improve the standard of healthcare received by people with a learning disability.

A VIP (vulnerable inpatient) red bag holds a person’s key paperwork, medication and personal belongings together when they have a health appointment or are admitted to hospital. Documents might include eating plans, do not attempt resuscitation forms and health passports with information about the patient.

It is early days for the Wakefield project, which was launched in January this year, but findings from an initial scheme in Sutton, which inspired Choice Support’s work, are promising.

In 2015, red bags were supplied to each care home in Sutton with the intention of making transitions to and from hospital for older people smoother. The NHS found hospital stays were reduced by 3-4 days when patients had a VIP red bag, saving £167,000 per year in the Sutton area.

Encouraged by these positive outcomes, Choice Support staff recognised that the initiative could also benefit people with learning disabilities. The charity won funding of £40,000 from NHS England and Wakefield Clinical Commissioning Group for its own scheme.

Choice Support has distributed more than 500 free holdalls to people in Wakefield aged 14 years and over who have a learning disability.

Bags of benefits

Within months of starting, the project is having positive effects. Before, documents were routinely mislaid or misused.

Sarah Gapper, Choice Support’s red bag health co-ordinator, says: “Health passports were not being used. People were experiencing long waiting times and their important paperwork was being lost.”

In addition, providing a VIP red bag containing information about how a person would like to be supported is a positive step in closing the communication gap between health and social care staff. Sharing these details helps identify those who may require extra support and reminds staff to make necessary adjustments to a person’s care.

Catherine Limbert, for example, receives daily support from homes manager Vicky Place and her team. Place recently supported Limbert to have an x-ray in hospital.

Because Limbert had all her documents together in her backpack, hospital staff were better able to understand her needs and ensure she received the best possible care. They were able to adjust how the X-ray was carried out to make things easier for her.

Place says: “The staff interacted with Catherine all the time and made it fun for her while she received treatment. The nurse phoned the x-ray department and asked if they could give Catherine additional support.

“We went back to the waiting room and were called in straight away to see the nurse for her results. This reduced the time Catherine was at the hospital, which made her happy and reduced any anxiety.

“We have added this experience to her health passport, so staff know how to support her if she needs another X-ray in the future.”

Local radio adverts, support from community learning disability nurses and fundraising (including £5,000 from Morrisons community grants fund, which will be used to buy more bags) are all helping the project flourish. Care co-ordinators in GP surgeries are involved in distributing the holdalls.
The Wakefield teams are determined to fully involve people and families in this developing project. A photo journal representing a person’s healthcare experiences and workshops for people, families and staff, are in the pipeline.

Choice Support is keen to see the rucksacks distributed further afield and for their positive impact to reach more people with learning disabilities across the UK.

While a simple idea, the red bag has the potential to make huge improvements in healthcare and support.

Another resident supported by Choice Support finds having everything he needs at appointments reassuring. “It’s like a support worker in a bag,” he says.

If you or someone you support lives in Wakefield and would like to request a VIP red bag, email: thevipredbag@choicesupport.org.uk

Debbie Palmer is communications officer at Choice Support

Robin Jackson: Paved with good intentions

Attempts at inclusion rarely deliver what is promised and can even end up excluding people. Robin Jackson gives some examples around schools, campaigning and housing.

Woman chef in kitchen

Looking back over the past 50 years, I wish I could say that I have seen significant improvements in the quality of life of people with learning disabilities. Let me give a number of examples where improvements have not taken place.

Schools: ideals against reality

Witness what happened with the Warnock Report published in 1978.

Mary Warnock tried to establish the facts concerning special educational provision for children and young people with special needs but was constrained by the Department of Education, which provided next to no funding for research and deliberately restricted access to schools and other facilities.

This was in marked contrast to the 1964 Plowden Report on primary education and the 1963 Robbins Report on higher education.

In exercising her role as chair, Warnock displayed not only a high degree of naivety but also was consistently outmanoeuvred by the Department of Education.

Not long after the publication of her report, I invited Warnock to address a group of headteachers and deputy headteachers of special schools who were attending an in-service course in a college of higher education in the south of England.



My abiding memory of that occasion is the look of bewilderment on the faces of her audience as she sought to explain some of the reasoning behind the report’s recommendations. It quickly became apparent to her audience of experienced practitioners that she had little idea of what went on in special schools.

Some years later, she would publicly and belatedly acknowledge that much of the content of her report was “naive to the point of idiocy” – a conclusion drawn by the headteachers much earlier.

Warnock was later to argue that her committee had become so enamoured with its own ideals that it had never thought to question whether local authorities would be sufficiently motivated to take on the task of meeting pupils’ special educational needs in mainstream schools.

The pressure on her committee to support the policy of inclusion caused confusion – and pupils with special needs became unwitting casualties of this.

Warnock concluded that support for the policy of inclusion “sprang from hearts in the right place” but acknowledged its implementation had a disastrous legacy.

The credulity of that same group of headteachers was further strained when, on a later occasion, they were addressed by Sally Tomlinson, a Marxist academic who had asserted in her book A Sociology of Special Education that special schools constituted an integral part of a socially stratified educational system.

The inevitable logic of her argument was that the system should be de-stratified which meant the closure of special schools. Unsurprisingly, her audience was not sympathetic to this argument – but what they found bewildering was her inability to defend her central thesis when subjected to questioning.

Antagonistic action

This lack of attention to the concerns of people with learning disabilities led to the birth of the Direct Action Network (DAN) in 1989.

DAN members sought to portray their organisation as following in the footsteps of the 1960s civil rights movement. While their principal targets were the major disability charities, such as Mencap, the Spastics Society (as Scope was known) and the Leonard Cheshire Foundation, broad DAN targets included professionals, parents, special schools and residential care settings of any kind.

Particularly disturbing were the depth and intensity of the antipathy and venom directed towards these targets.

In 2003, disability theorist Wolf Wolfensberger expressed his concern at this radicalisation of advocacy movements, particularly their increasingly confrontational stance and strident tone, which threatened to antagonise and alienate those whose support was vital if appropriate services were to be developed.

This aggressive approach was likely to have encouraged some local authorities to withdraw certain activities undertaken by people with learning disabilities in adult training centres (ATCs) because of concerns that they might be represented as exploitative.

For example, one ATC I knew had taken particular pride in maintaining its attractive grounds, where the trainees worked.

Later, it was to receive an instruction to cease that activity as it was felt by the local social work department this practice ran counter to current thinking. As a consequence, the local authority was obliged to transfer responsibility for the maintenance of the grounds to the council parks and gardens department.

Unsurprisingly, the manager was incensed as he was aware of the pride trainees took in maintaining the grounds and the negative impact that withdrawal from this work would have upon them.

I am not writing here as an apologist for ATCs as I accept that disappointingly few provided a worthwhile service. It is worth highlighting, however, what can happen when there is a well thought through idea and the personnel to carry it out.

I have in mind here the Engine Shed project in Edinburgh. This was established in 1989 as an innovative training project for people with learning disabilities to help them improve their confidence, learn transferable skills in a real work environment and move into paid employment in mainstream workplaces.

In March 2015, the Engine Shed closed as a training/trading operation – a loss mourned by many Edinburgh residents.

One of the reasons for its closure was the contention of Edinburgh Council that it was not a mainstream or integrated facility. Or, to put another way, it constituted what was perceived to be an outdated form of provision.



Whose community?

One of the most contentious policy issues concerning provision for people with learning disabilities relates to the matter of what constitutes appropriate residential provision. The official view is that a home in the community is the most appropriate form of placement.

The problem with this view is that it presupposes, first, there is an agreed definition and understanding of the meaning of home and community and, second, that residents’ experiences in such a setting can be legitimately characterised as integrative and normalising.

The reality – as an examination of a random sample of Care Quality Commission reports will quickly confirm – is that many residents in homes in the community have neither an integrative nor a normalising experience.

Chronic underfunding combined with high staff turnover, understaffing and the recruitment of poorly qualified and unqualified staff are not conducive to creating a high quality of life.

This shortage of staff impinges not only on the quality of life experienced by the residents but also on how they may be perceived by members of the public.

Too often, residents may be seen in public as part of undifferentiated and anonymous groups – a direct consequence of there being insufficient staff to accompany individuals on 1-to-1 social excursions.

While it is true that residents are living in the community, what they are experiencing is a form of inclusive exclusion.

Let me be clear – there are homes in the community that do succeed in providing a high-quality service but I would argue they are in a minority.

There are other forms of provision that should be considered. For example, intentional communities like Camphill and L’Arche village settings offer what can be described as “exclusive inclusion”.

There are homes in the community that provide a high-quality service but I would argue they are in a minority.

While the location of these communities is often physically apart from the mainstream, the experience for residents is genuinely inclusive – a fact that an examination of the content of inspection reports will confirm.

While the accommodation in an exclusive inclusive arrangement may not be situated in normal neighbourhoods, those who live there are nevertheless an integral part of a community that offers them a wide range of educational, social, cultural, recreational and work opportunities. The sites usually offer freedom of movement within a safe, unpolluted and tranquil environment.

If we are serious in our pursuit of providing a high quality of life for people with learning disabilities, then we need to be more open-minded when looking at the options that are available. I am in no doubt that, for some people with learning disabilities, exclusive inclusion is preferable to inclusive exclusion.

Disturbing debate

A recent and revealing insight into the value of the lives of people with learning disabilities was highlighted during the coronavirus outbreak.

In June 2020, the Office for National Statistics revealed that almost 60% of deaths from coronavirus in the UK were of people with disabilities.

In July 2020, the Oxford University Disability Law and Policy Project and the Bonavero Institute of Human Rights published a report that described the impact of coronavirus-related law, policy and practice on people with disabilities.

The report provided evidence of the failure of the government to implement properly its legal duties with respect to the rights of people with disabilities.
It recommended that the government produce a disability-inclusive response to Covid-19 that drew on the experiences of disabled people and disabled people’s organisations to mitigate the immediate impacts of the crisis, along with its long-term economic and social consequences.

In March 2020, MPs debated in parliament whether all official responsibility for the most vulnerable in society – including people with learning disabilities – should be relinquished.

In other words, local authorities could be freed from their legal responsibilities under the terms of the Care Act 2014, enabling them to refuse care for people with disabilities.

A disturbing feature of this debate was the resurgence of eugenicist arguments espoused by some who had been closely linked to the prime minister’s office.

Looming over the horizon is the task of meeting the astronomically high national cost that has been incurred by the nation as a result of the coronavirus pandemic.

On the basis of past experience, it is not too difficult to see where the cuts may be made. There is then an urgent need not only to highlight the dangers facing people with learning disabilities but also to identify realistically costed strategies to counter these threats.

Robin Jackson has been involved in the learning disability field for 60 years. His most rewarding experience has been exploring the historical development of the Camphill movement.

Simon Jarrett: Our aim: a good life achieved for all

It is now more than 10 years since Valuing People was launched in 2001, under the New Labour government that had come to power in 1997, writes Simon Jarrett.

Woman explaining to man at desk

It emerged in a great spirit of optimism, announcing itself as “a new strategy for learning disability for the twenty-first century” with a foreword by prime minister Tony Blair.

Rarely, if ever, had the spotlight been on people with learning disabilities in such a positive way. For the first time for a learning disability strategy, the government had consulted with and actively involved people with learning disabilities themselves, who worked with professionals, families, campaigners and academics to create it.

Valuing People was based on four key principles of rights, independence, choice and inclusion. Its aims included better life choices, more choice and control, support for carers, better health and improved opportunities in housing and employment.

There was even new money on the table to support the implementation of the strategy – tens of millions of pounds was made available to local authorities and voluntary organisations in a learning disability development fund and an implementation support fund.

For 10 years, there was a feeling of optimism and positivity, as ideas that had been talked about for years became possible in reality.

Valuing People was not perfect of course. In retrospect, its ideas about full-time employment in mainstream jobs for people with the most profound disabilities seem based more on wishful thinking than anything else, and had the effect of the specialist needs of this group being ignored in the hope that they would somehow meld with everyone else.

Some people with mild learning disabilities lost their support when they appeared to be coping well, sometimes with disastrous consequences.

The effect on the employment rate was minimal and many people remained in their communities but somehow not connected to them.



However, whatever retrospective criticisms we might have of Valuing People’s imperfections now, many of us look back on its time with longing and regret that its power has waned and the optimism it brought almost vanished.

There were discernible improvements in the quality of support, involvement, housing options and many other areas. Most of all, for the very first time, people with learning disabilities seemed to have a seat at society’s table and were noticed and heard.

It may come as a surprise to many that, technically, Valuing People is still the learning disability strategy for England. However, this is only because no new strategy has been brought in to replace it. It has been allowed to wither on the vine, gathering dust on a shelf somewhere in the Department of Health and Social Care.

Good Lives: Building Change Together


The framework has six key areas:

  1. A home
  2. Communication and staying connected
  3. The right support
  4. To love and be loved
  5. Effective voice – self-advocacy/ advocacy
  6. Employment and contribution

Time to stop the rot

For the past decade at least, there has been effectively no strategy for learning disability in England at all, and it shows. The never-ending assessment and treatment scandals, the return to large-scale accommodation, the paring back of all but the most basic support, the neglect of families, the absence of employment and housing strategies – all of this speaks to governments that have taken their eyes off the ball and of a group who were allowed a few years in the sun but have now started to be ostracised once more.

It is a dangerous moment – but we must not lose hope. Rather, we must stop the rot and bring public and government focus back on learning disability.
I am delighted therefore that campaigning group Learning Disability England (LDE) have started to build momentum towards a new strategy. Their Good Lives: Building Change Together initiative, which they describe below, has a similar sense of excitement about it to what I and many others felt as Valuing People was being created.

Clearly, some of the lessons of Valuing People have been absorbed, and there is a focus on relationships, belonging and emotional connectedness as well as the practical concerns that featured in 2001.

Crucially, people with learning disabilities are at its heart, and everyone who is part of the learning disability community or connected to it in some way is invited to make their contribution.

Community Living magazine is proud to stand alongside and work with LDE to build and promote Good Lives to get back to the task of making lives better for people with learning disabilities in England, and to make this a government priority once more.

‘It is not an endpoint. It is a framework to start a debate and give ideas for action’ – Learning Disability England invites participation in Good Lives

The Good Lives: Building Change Together framework brings together people’s thoughts and ideas about what it will take for everyone with learning disabilities to be able to live their good life. Work on it started in 2020, when a group of 40 self-advocates came together in Birmingham.

The framework is there for anyone who is interested. LDE hosts it but does not control it. It is not an endpoint. It is not a report. It is a framework to start a debate and give ideas for action.

“In 2022, we do not need any more reports – we just need to get on with changing things so I and all my disabled friends can live our lives,” says Jordan Smith, who co-chairs the self-advocate representative body. This is part of LDE’s “rep body”, made up of self-advocates, families and professionals.

Good Lives has six chapters. Each chapter looks at what is happening now as well as what rights people have. It has examples of work that people are already doing that is brilliant or important. And some ideas for change that anyone can start to use now or campaign for together.

Scott Watkin BEM, paid supporter rep body co-chair, explains: “This framework gives all organisations and workers a co-produced reference point for action they can take straight away or be part of developing wider policy change. It gives us all the chance to work towards something together.”

The first session at the 2022 LDE conference was when Good Lives: Building Change Together went live. Since then, people have been looking at ways they can get involved and contribute to make Good Lives a reality.

Wendy Burt, co-chair of the family and friends rep body, says: “As a family member of someone with a learning disability, I know how important fun, friendships, love and work are to a good life. It is not only day-to-day support I want for my sons but also a rich life with the same ups and downs as anyone else.”

Making it a reality

Good Lives will become a reality only if every individual, every group and every organisation contribute in the ways they best can. So what might you do to turn the framework into real change so all people with learning disabilities can live good lives? Do you have a particular interest in your area? Do you have things you or your group want to share or make happen?

Gary Bourlet, membership and engagement lead, has been looking at some of the things members are doing: “Me and Rachael [Hall], my fellow membership and engagement lead, have been having smaller meetings with individual members to talk to them about work they have been doing that links to Good Lives. We have also been giving other ideas on how they might get more involved.

“Many members and partners, including Adass [Association of Directors of Adult Social Services] and the LGA [Local Government Association], have all been really eager to bring about action and are talking about it with their teams and at meetings.”

Here are some ideas from LDE members for small things that you can do straight away:

  • Work in a more collaborative and co-productive way
  • Turn plans into action
  • Make reasonable adjustments in your organisation
  • Grow self-advocacy: promote it more among people with learning disabilities as well as policymakers and make sure those with learning disabilities and their families always have an equal voice around the table
  • Spread the word about the framework among your networks.

Lisa Hopkins, chief executive of SeeAbility and an LDE trustee, explains why it matters: “We all know people still aren’t living the lives they choose everywhere, that people don’t have the rights, choice, inclusion and independence that we all expect, and that active citizenship is still a pipe dream for many people with learning disabilities.

“The unique thing about LDE is who actually runs it – it’s not really the chief executive. It’s really run by the representative body made up of self-advocates, families, and professionals.

“It is the strength of their collective voice that I believe will change things for the better and will be the difference we’re all desperate to see.”
SeeAbility is starting to use the Good Lives framework in a number of ways.

“It has given us some ideas for action and we’re working with people we support to use it as part of our own quality of life strategy,” says Hopkins.
“We’re using it to shape our auditing tool to help identify if people we’re here to serve are living a good life. We’re also borrowing ideas of excellence from elsewhere so that we can get better in all that we do.”

People with learning disabilities, who SeeAbility supports or are colleagues, have also commented on the framework.

“Hurrah for change! Hurrah for more good lives! Hurrah for LDE!”

“This shows how LDE brings all of its members together and creates a bigger voice which is needed more than ever.”

“I really hope this is our time and that everything changes so that we all have a good life.”

Action is critical

Hopkins adds: “That, in short, is why I’m both a personal member of LDE and an organisational member, and it’s why I urge you all to engage with Good Lives.

“This stuff is important. In fact, at the moment, it’s easy to argue that it’s critical. Together, we are stronger.”


Taking the driver’s seat for himself

Photographer Aron Hosie talks about letting Alex Boys ‘work his magic’ to create provocative images tinged with some Hollywood glamour for an exhibition to celebrate the Down’s Syndrome Association’s 50th anniversary.

Man in yellow open top car

I was very honoured to be asked to create a series of images for this exhibition. The Idea was to inject a dose of glamour, a provocative edge and a nod to the worlds of fashion and Hollywood into the photos. Mix this with a few props and a couple of story ideas, and let Alex work his magic.

The result hopefully, is a set of images that put a smile on your face and raise an eyebrow at the same time. Possibly even raise a question or two.
We live in a time where inclusivity is at the forefront of social thinking, where old ideas and stigmas are slowly being torn apart around race, ethnicity and minority groups.

I like the idea of challenging how we see Down syndrome and trying to push those boundaries. Having spent time working with Alex and getting to know him underlined just how much he had to give and offer to this project.

Being put in front of a camera and asked to act a certain way when people are stood watching you is no mean feat. Yet for Alex it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do.

There were no boundaries or obstacles because of Alex’s Down’s syndrome.

There was just Alex, his energy, his enthusiasm, his professionalism and his amazing personality.

Images subvert stereotypes and convey power and visibility.

The photos that Aron Hosie has taken for the Down’s Syndrome Association anniversary are welcome as a representation of high-quality artwork that would not look out of place in a glossy Sunday magazine, writes Tracey Harding.

The colour prints stand out and demand our attention, as Alex Boys is shown in the photos as being in control and often in a position of power.

This subverts the idea of people with Down syndrome being powerless and unseen in our society, while also leaving the observer of the photo to reach their own conclusions as to how they address stereotypes about learning disability and the situations Alex has been placed in.

One photo of Alex sitting by a car looking out at the sunset is reminiscent of James Dean, shot with a Hollywood glamour.

Others show Boys in alpha male poses, with glamorous female models making the viewer feel slightly uncomfortable at the stereotypical male gaze, which represents women as sexual objects for the pleasure of the male viewer.

The photos are provocative and thought provoking. They remind us of the work of Robert Mapplethorpe, whose black and white photos featured an array of controversial subjects that challenged and invoked debate in the art world.

There is no doubt that Hosie has produced a series of photos that encourage discussion about learning disabilities and representation in society, and the presentation of these images in an exhibition format is long overdue and necessary.

Tracey Harding is Community Living’s arts and film correspondent.


Boys is shown in alpha male poses, with glamorous female models making the viewer feel slightly uncomfortable

The right to have a baby – or not

Who decides who should have children and access to contraception? Rachael Eastham and her team find attitudes are limiting control and the ability to make decisions.

Reprofest 2022 zine cover

Women with learning disabilities are often encouraged to use long-term contraceptives, such as intrauterine devices, regardless of preference


A research team are seeking the answers to some fundamental questions about reproductive rights and choices in collaboration with people with learning disabilities.

We already know that throughout history people with learning disabilities have been told what to do and restricted when it comes to decisions about reproduction such as having sex, using contraception and having a baby.

Frameworks such as the Mental Capacity Act 2005 may be used to find out whether people can consent to sex and decide whether they want to have children or not.

We would like to know more about how these decisions are made and if or how this may be different to what is written down in the law and in policy.

We are concerned that there are some situations in sexual and reproductive healthcare that are making it hard for people with learning disabilities to decide if and when to get pregnant.

This can compromise reproductive rights. For example, there are cases where women with learning disabilities are encouraged to use methods of contraception that last for a long time (five years) when that is not their preference.

These types of contraception include the implant, which is placed under the skin in the upper arm, and intrauterine contraceptives (the coil), a device inserted into the uterus (womb).

Once you have these methods of contraception in place, it can then be difficult to get them removed when you want to have a baby, even more so at the moment because lots of sexual health services have closed and there are limited staff.

On the other hand, it may be hard for you to access contraception in the first place when you do want to use it.

To find out more, see the All Party Parliamentary Group on Sexual and Reproductive Health in the UK’s report Women’s Lives, Women’s Rights: Strengthening Access to Contraception Beyond the Pandemic (https://tinyurl.com/2dyrbuar).

Little information is available on how people with learning disabilities are supported to make decisions about contraception. While some people may benefit from additional support to do this or may have medical needs to consider, we are aware that there can be a fine line between having additional support and being pressured to take certain options.

We are interested in taking a reproductive justice approach to ensure the rights of people to make decisions about their own bodies are upheld and that assumptions about or discrimination towards people with learning disabilities do not unfairly influence the guidance that people receive about contraception.

Reproductive justice combines reproductive rights and social justice. You can find out more about it at https://www.sistersong.net/reproductive-justice.


Gaps in research

Research published last year by members of our research team in association with the British Pregnancy Advisory Service, Decolonising Contraception and Shine Aloud UK found many people felt pressured and discriminated against when it came to making decisions about their contraceptive method because, for example, of their age, ethnicity or sexual orientation.

However, for this report, we were unable to speak directly to many people with learning disabilities and learn about their experiences.

To address this gap, we have now received funding from an organisation called the Foundation for the Sociology of Health and Illness to explore in more detail what is meant by capacity to consent in relation to using long-acting contraception.

Consent, capacity and assumptions

We think it is important to understand how capacity and informed consent may be influenced by assumptions about the needs of people with learning disabilities as well as by the environment in which these decisions are made, such as during a short doctor’s appointment or after having a baby.

As part of this, we intend to work closely with people with learning disabilities to understand what matters most in relation to this topic and how we should do future research that is inclusive and aware of the needs of people with learning disabilities.

So far, we have been working to gather background information on this subject in the UK and identify what resources are available to people to support their rights to make decisions about contraception – which are few and far between.

To start this conversation with other people, in April this year we put on an event called Reprofest (https://reprofest.wixsite.com/reprofest) in Preston, Lancashire.

There can be a fine line between having additional support and being pressured to take certain options

This event brought together lots of people to talk about reproductive rights from a range of perspectives. At the heart of it all was our invitation to consider who makes decisions about who should have children and if or when someone should get pregnant.

Pictured is the Reprofest zine cover made by people at the event with local arts organisation the Good Things Collective.

We were joined at Reprofest by Inclusion North – a community interest company that “aims to make inclusion a reality for all people with a learning disability, autistic people and their families”.

Inclusion North’s experts by experience worked together to prepare workshops about reproductive rights for people with learning disabilities and/or autism to deliver at Reprofest.

It may be assumed that sex and reproduction are not a priority or are not appropriate topics to discuss with people with learning disabilities

They delivered two excellent, thought-provoking workshops based on their own questions and concerns they have about sex and reproduction. The contribution of Inclusion North has been very important so far in helping us consider priorities for people with learning disabilities.

We have learnt that questions about reproductive rights, contraception and if or when you get pregnant are hindered because of silence around sex.
Many professionals such as doctors, nurses or support workers find discussing this awkward and sexual and reproductive health are often missed out of annual health checks.

They may also assume that sex and reproduction are not a priority or appropriate topics to discuss with people with learning disabilities, so this topic is swept under the carpet and overlooked.

We know that having a learning disability is only one aspect of a person. Other parts of who we are may also be judged and make it harder to explore options related to sex and reproduction – for example, if you have a learning disability and also are an LGBTQ+ person.

Uncertainty about what may happen if you want to get pregnant and have a baby can create fear. For people with learning disabilities, worries about being judged as not being able to look after children may increase this fear.

Being frightened can make conversations about your needs even harder to have and may mean you end up agreeing to things other people think are best for you.

How these factors influence people’s lives and affect their ability to give informed consent are important to understand.

We think it would be helpful to develop training and resources with people with learning disabilities to support them to make decisions about contraception and reproduction.

We are aware we do not have all the information we need to do this work in the best way. If you are an organisation or individual and would like to help us pull back the carpet under which the conversations about sex, reproduction and contraception for people with learning disabilities are often swept, you can contact me at the email below.

We hope to form partnerships with organisations that support people with learning disabilities.

We hope that this project will go some way to shining a light on capacity and informed consent, especially about contraception, in a way that is inclusive and understanding of people with learning disabilities.

We want to work towards a reality where reproductive rights can be upheld for everyone and that the diversity of people’s needs and ways of supporting them are understood.

The authors would like to thank the hard work of the experts at Inclusion North for their enthusiasm and commitment to this topic

Rachael Eastham is senior research associate in the Division of Health Research at Lancaster University: r.eastham1@lancaster.ac.uk. The rest of the research team are: Alex Kaley, Mark Limmer and Sophie Patterson at Lancaster University; Gareth Thomas at Cardiff University; and Victoria Boydell at the University of Essex.

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