The Guardian view on Labour’s welfare mess: attempting to hide its cuts triggered a rebellion too big to punish

The bill’s passage through the Commons exposed moral fault lines in Labour and revived hard questions about the nature of the benefits changes

In 2022, Liz Truss’s mini-budget collapsed under the weight of its own ideological haste, destroying her government’s credibility in days. Whether the debacle over Labour’s welfare reform bill will leave a similarly lasting mark on the Starmer administration remains uncertain. But the signs are familiar: rushed legislation, party unrest and proposals out of step with expert advice and public sentiment. The bill passed on Wednesday night bore little resemblance to its original version – it was so different, in fact, that even the title had changed. Yet MPs were asked to approve it with minimal scrutiny. The rebellion of 47 Labour MPs carries more weight than the numbers suggest – because it taps into questions of moral judgment.

Some who voted against the bill’s third reading may be driven by factional grudges. Many think poverty is a national crisis to be ended. Rebels identified the sting in the tail of the new welfare bill: halving the universal credit health element for 90% of new claimants from April 2026. The government, rattled by party dissent, had already removed the most provocative clause – targeting personal independence payments – and rebranded the bill to gain Commons assent.

But old habits die hard. Ministers had shamelessly claimed their new bill lifts 50,000 people out of poverty. This only works by counting 150,000 spared harm by scrapping Tory plans. In fact, 100,000 more people – mostly disabled – will fall into poverty due to the changes in Labour’s “new” act. That’s not a progressive policy. It’s a sleight of hand disguising a deep cut. Commendably, the UN saw through it. By not implementing the Tory change, Labour has in effect incurred a cost to the Treasury of about £3.6bn, but ministers are, paradoxically, booking this non-action as both a “net saving” and a social gain.

The politics of welfare have long turned on the question of who deserves what and why. Kemi Badenoch’s Conservatives try to portray cruelty as common sense with talk of “makers not takers”. Under Sir Keir Starmer, welfare is no longer a right but a test of how sick is sick enough. However, outside Westminster, the arguments sound different. They arrive not as Treasury spreadsheets, but as stories. A child telling her teacher she didn’t eat last night. A mother choosing between heating and the bus fare to school.

In her report this week, the children’s commissioner for England offered a bleak account of what life is like for poor children. They live in dilapidated flats or hotel rooms with no kitchens and wear worn-out clothes. They talk with a clarity that adults often avoid about humiliation and exclusion. The report – based on testimony from 128 children – should have shamed the government for tolerating “almost-Dickensian” poverty. Instead, the joint call by the four children’s commissioners of the UK to tackle it was received by ministers with polite concern lest it halt the forward march of their welfare bill.

Capping key child-related benefits to the first two children in a family is wrong. Lifting it would mean 350,000 children are removed from poverty and would help 700,000 more. Seven MPs were suspended last July for opposing the continuation of the two-child benefit cap. Wednesday’s rebellion was too big for Labour’s high command to punish; removing the whip wasn’t an option. Welfare prevents misery. Blaming it for poverty won’t wash. Sir Keir must accept that – and forget about attempting to govern by excluding critics.

Cover photo:  ‘One hundred thousand more people – mostly disabled – will fall into poverty due to the changes in Labour’s ‘new’ act.’ Photograph: Wiktor Szymanowicz/Future Publishing/Getty Images