The Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) has finally published excerpts from secret internal reports—revealing how its own grave errors contributed to the deaths of Universal Credit (UC) claimants. These disclosures come just days after MPs approved £2 billion‑a‑year cuts to the health component of UC, exposing a staggering moral vacuum at the heart of government policy.
These are no isolated incidents. As Disability News Service (DNS) reported, so-called internal process reviews (IPRs) of serious cases linked to UC almost doubled between 2023–24 and 2024–25—rising from 31 to 55 cases affecting UC claimants—and totaling 59 claimant deaths, up sharply from the previous period. That the DWP concealed the sheer scale of such cases for so long seems deliberately reckless—not merely negligent.
DWP reports paint a damning picture
The newly published excerpts paint a damning picture. They reveal DWP staff repeatedly failed to meet essential support standards: nearly 20% of UC cases in a sample breached vulnerability and self-harm protocol standards. If extrapolated, these partial results suggest thousands of monthly failures, many with potentially life‑threatening consequences.
As DNS reported:
Among the 2022-23 reviews, one IPR found: “Customer had difficulty accessing their [online UC] journal, but messages were still communicated via this channel.”
Another in the 2022-23 batch found: “The customer’s needs and vulnerability details were provided, but opportunities to support them and refer to other services were missed.”
Perhaps most damningly, a third review said:
Concerns around the customer’s welfare were not raised with the appropriate team.
The correct process was not followed when the customer failed to make contact.
Colleagues did not respond sensitively when it was reported that customer had attempted suicide.
DNS noted that, despite these latest shocking revelations, the DWP has still not revealed how many of the claimants subject to IPRs died.
Evasive and avoiding accountability
The DWP’s response is evasive.
It insists the data are just “a snapshot” and cannot be generalised—conveniently avoiding full accountability. Meanwhile, hardened analysis makes clear: staff errors in nearly 40% of nearly 4,000 cases indicate a systemic crisis in handling disabled claimants—not a series of one‑off lapses.
Judges and politicians have repeatedly told DWP to release missing “worst‑case scenario” reports, which include internal estimates of harm to vulnerable claimants. The DWP has fought to keep these secret, citing damage to its reputation—rather than prioritising public safety or integrity of the system.
This is especially contemptible given DWP’s long record of hiding behind redactions and legal exemptions. In 2023 the department lost or allegedly destroyed a secret report revealing serious UC flaws. Even basic data in its annual report disappeared—figures indicating how many cases involved UC claimants—indicating either gross incompetence or intentional obfuscation.
Much of the reason the DWP has now released details of these IPRs is thanks to the persistence of John Pring at DNS. He has tirelessly attempted to expose these.
More cuts and more deaths
All of this comes as the government presses ahead with sweeping cuts. MPs voted in late July 2025 for UC health‑element reductions of £2 billion a year—knowing full well that systemic and deadly failings in the department were still being uncovered. The juxtaposition of cuts with the release of fatal‑error revelations is grotesque and morally indefensible.
Even then, there is unlikely to be meaningful accountability. An information rights tribunal allowed DWP to keep concealed details on recommendations from 63 IPRs into UC‑linked deaths between January 2020 and November 2023—not only hiding vital safety insights, but doing so while legislation shaping future cuts was being debated.
Collectively, these revelations and cover‑ups expose a department that is institutionally opaque, deeply defensive, and seemingly more interested in shielding its reputation than protecting vulnerable people.
Yet the DWP’s partial publication of internal reviews is not an act of contrition—it’s a token gesture made under pressure.
The DWP must face a public inquiry
The department remains entrenched in opacity: hiding worst‑case vulnerability assessments, refusing to release full IPR recommendations, and glossing over repeated staff failures with self‑serving explanations. Doing so at a moment when ministers are parroting the benefits of cuts only underscores the cynicism.
A department that systematically ignores the lived consequences of its failures, fails to support its most vulnerable claimants, and refuses to open itself to scrutiny—even when lives are clearly at risk—is not fit to run. Unless the DWP radically transforms its approach to transparency, accountability, and claimant safety, it remains a disgrace to the ideals of a modern welfare state.
It is high time for meaningful independent public inquiry—and not just selective disclosures when convenient. The DWP’s culture must change, and the warnings it has tried so desperately to conceal must be taken seriously—before more lives are lost.
Featured image via the Canary
By Steve Topple
This post was originally published on Canary.