The Kindness That Kills: Why True Conservatism Demands We Reform Welfare Now

Igraine Gray
Jun 26
4 min read

Co-founder of Whole Nation Conservatives Igraine Gray is a Conservative activist and former council candidate, writer, published author and rehabilitated rough sleeper. Prior to the 2024 General Election she was Policy Assistant to Sir Simon Clarke.

If there is one lesson the British state must learn at pace it is, to quote Ronald Reagan: “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help.’”

For decades, but particularly post-pandemic, the welfare state has swollen and is now close to bursting at any moment, much like William the Conqueror at his funeral. But importantly, it is not from generosity of vision, but from a failure of nerve. As benefits balloon and dependency deepens, Britain now faces a stark moral reckoning: are we building a nation of resilience or one of retreat?

The Government’s welfare reforms announced recently, and the £5 billion in projected savings by 2030 (1), are insubstantial, fall with nuance and don’t deal with root cause. Not shocking, I know. They don’t even actually cut the hard spend, with spending due to rise to £72.3 billion by 2030 factoring in the reforms (1), and that is without the unravelling of them that is about to occur.

Welfare reform should be about dignity. They must speak to a deeper question: what kind of people do we believe Britons are? And do we still have the moral courage to ask for more than passive survival?

Let us be clear: the welfare state was one of Britain’s finest post-war achievements. It promised support in hardship, but not an alternative to contribution. But as Whole Nation Conservatives understand, a truly moral conservatism requires a balance focused on renewal, not distribution. One that recognises the profound difference between helping someone through a storm, and building them a life within one.

Today, too many working-age Britons find themselves not lifted but locked into a bureaucratic holding pattern, where the state speaks in the dulcet tones of “support” but quietly communicates: we do not expect you to thrive. That is the danger of not recognising that the state always sends a message, whether politicians and officials want it to or not.

Welfare enablism is not social justice. It is a robbery of agency, followed by slow abandonment.

One cannot change the welfare bill numbers without understanding the deeper moral claim beneath that mission. Reducing sick benefit claims and duration, to smash a culture of dependency that we are weaning 2000 people onto every working day (2). Reforming PIP and Work Capability Assessments to ensure the most vulnerable are supported, and the dignity of work, in whatever shape fits, can be an opportunity for the rest. Being able to do this is also reliant on economic literacy from government, in creating a nurturing environment for business and jobs. Given that the early estimate of payrolled employees for May 2025 shows a decrease by 109,000 (0.4%) on the month and a decrease by 274,000 (0.9%) on the year to 30.2 million (3), the Government hasn't got the economic literacy part either.

Here is a truth considered almost too impolite for polite society: permanent dependency is a form of cruelty. It tells a person, “We don’t believe you can.” It smothers talent in the warm embrace of resignation. We must not confuse compassion with condescension. The modern welfare state, in its current form, often institutionalises precisely what it claims to heal, robbing individuals of their initiative, while flattering our own moral vanity. In other words, the egregiously cost-heavy final boss of virtue signalling. We must make the moral case, because the Government is about to fold on the most insignificant of measures vaguely in the right direction - all in the name of “kindness”.

Conservatives should have the courage to say this clearly: there is nothing moral about a state that encourages capable people to surrender their potential for a modest monthly payment. It is not progress but neglect dressed up as empathy. To take agency from someone is to take everything. Work, routine, purpose, pride: these are the scaffolds of the human spirit. To deny them is not compassion. It is surrender.

This is why proposals should rightly link welfare reform with investment in mental health support, retraining schemes, and front-line early intervention. Reform must never be punitive but constructive. A reformed welfare system acts as a trampoline, not a trapdoor. It cushions, yes, but it also launches. It expects effort and duty, encourages return, and rewards ambition. It must say to someone struggling: “We see your challenge. But we also see your strength.”

That is the politics of dignity. That is the Conservative tradition at its best.

In 2024, public spending on working-age benefits approached record highs (2). Our demographics are also shot to bits. We are living longer, which in many ways is great, but our birth rate has fallen to historic lows (4). We’re not replacing ourselves. The taxpayer base is shrinking when our pension age benefits are growing (forecast to rise from £141.9 billion in 2023/24 to £181.8 billion in 2029/30: a jump of 29% (5)), and we’re writing off swathes of the already shrinking taxpayer base to long-term benefits (2). But beneath the spreadsheet lies something deeper: a society in which fewer and fewer are expected to contribute. That is unsustainable both fiscally and morally.

In the end, our argument must be simple: Britain is not just a place. It is a promise. A promise that if you contribute, you belong. That if you struggle, we will help, but also that we believe in your return. That your value is not in your eligibility code, but your capacity to shape your life.

Conservatives should not flinch from this battle. We should not advocate for cutting welfare because we are callous. We should argue for reforming it because we care enough to expect more. To believe more. To demand more of a country we know can do better.

It is time to stop offering people fish and pretending that is kindness.

It’s time to hand them the rod, and walk with them to the river.

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