Lana Hempsall is an entrepreneur and business coach, Conservative councillor, and the CPF National Discussion Lead for Transport.
The conclusion of the Paralympic Games in Paris last week, alongside Team GB’s remarkable success in securing its largest-ever medal haul, has left me reflecting on disability in our society—especially in contrast to certain decisions and conversations I’ve witnessed in local government.
While many describe the athletes as “inspirational, brave, and remarkable,” I believe the real driver behind their achievements is the same as that for most of us: a desire to excel. These athletes aren’t competing to inspire us—they’re competing to win, to achieve personal and national glory.
This distinction is crucial because it emphasizes that disabled individuals are not symbols of either inspiration or pity. They are people with ambitions, skills, and the right to pursue them without existing systemic barriers. While their honours are well deserved, the question remains: have we made progress toward a fairer society for people with disabilities?
Throughout my life and political career, one of my greatest frustrations has been the system of benefits for disabled people. Thankfully, the days of hiding disabled individuals away in institutions are over.
I remember how close I came to being cast aside as a teenager. At 14, before I was diagnosed with a progressive sight-loss condition that would leave me registered blind, I had high aspirations of becoming a doctor or a human rights lawyer. I was academically strong and had big dreams.
But then life changed. After my diagnosis, I was introduced to the benefits system. I was offered qualifications in either basket-weaving or telephone switchboard operation to prepare me for life in the one-bedroom council flat I would eventually qualify for.
Even then, I refused to take the path of least resistance. I earned my university degrees, co-founded a successful company with my husband, and became a local councillor. It’s in this latter role where my frustration truly deepens.
There is a clear divide between those whose disabilities are so severe that they will never be able to work and those who are capable and willing. The state should provide fully and respectfully for those unable to work. However, many disabled individuals can and want to work, yet the system, along with societal prejudice, offers them few opportunities for meaningful employment.
The assumption that disabled people are either entirely incapable of working or should be pitied is harmful and outdated. The introduction of Personal Independence Payment (PIP) was a step in the right direction, but it failed to open up accessible employment opportunities for those who scored fewer points. This created a race to the bottom.
Living on benefits is unsatisfactory. The state provides just enough to prevent starvation, but for many young adults on disability benefits, there’s no path forward. Career progression, savings, and dreams hit a dead end. The only way to increase income is if your condition worsens—a prospect no one wishes for. It’s a deadlock that leads to resentment and frustration.
I had hoped that Mel Stride, the former Work and Pensions Secretary, might bring meaningful reform, but I see no real change on the horizon. After the election, there is a palpable inertia within the system, and a lack of urgency to address these issues at government’s highest levels. When it comes, change is incremental and far too slow to impact the lives of disabled individuals’ lives.
Disability advocacy groups have become adept at gaining government attention for small victories. However, my wish has always been for a framework that genuinely supports disabled people in the workplace.
Such a framework would allow employers to bridge gaps when a disabled employee is unable to work due to a flare-up, supplement working hours with able-bodied assistance when productivity is affected, and much more. While the upfront cost may be higher, these efforts would normalize disabled individuals in the workplace, fostering greater understanding and inclusion over time.
I saw firsthand the harsh realities of employment for disabled people when I worked as a teaching assistant at a small independent school. An outstanding Early Years teacher, who was registered disabled due to severe asthma, would frequently miss work, and the cost of covering her absence nearly broke the struggling school. Most small businesses can’t absorb these costs, so employers often take the path of least resistance when hiring.
This brings me to the Norfolk Minimum Income Guarantee (MIG). Local government funding is stretched. Many councils are pushed to the edge of bankruptcy. When budgets are so severely cut, councils are forced to scrutinize statutory obligations versus discretionary services, and this can spell disaster.
In 2017, Norfolk County Council (NCC) attempted to reduce the MIG, but a judicial review ordered the income guarantee raised well above the statutory minimum, creating the “Norfolk MIG” precedent. This outcome has made other councils wary of similar reviews, fearing the same result.
Under immense pressure from a £50 million funding gap, the NCC Cabinet decided to close the gap between the statutory minimum and what they were paying their most vulnerable residents. In August, they reduced the MIG by approximately 10 percent per week—a devastating blow in light of rising energy prices. This reduction represents not just a financial shortfall, but a symbolic failure to support those who rely most on local government.
We need a “whole life journey” approach to disability. In Norfolk, for example, we celebrate a wonderful annual tradition where truckers take disabled children on a convoy from Norwich to Yarmouth. It’s a joyful, noisy event with truck horns blaring and smiles all around. But while this is a heartwarming gesture, it is not enough.
There must be a better solution. We need funding strategies not only to support disabled people in employment but to also support their employers—not to push disabled individuals into jobs they can’t manage, but to meaningfully support those who want and can work.
There’s a gap between the touching tenderness of events like the Norfolk Truckers Convoy and the pride we feel watching Paralympians compete. That gap is filled with anxiety, prejudice, and poverty.
The path forward requires more than just policy tweaks; it demands a fundamental shift in how society views disability. Disability should not be seen as a problem to be managed, but as a natural part of the human experience, deserving of respect and accommodation. We can and must do better.
The current system, riddled with short-sighted cuts and symbolic gestures, is simply not enough. It’s time for real, structural change that recognizes the potential of disabled individuals and supports them in realising it.
Lana Hempsall is an entrepreneur and business coach, Conservative councillor, and the CPF National Discussion Lead for Transport.
The conclusion of the Paralympic Games in Paris last week, alongside Team GB’s remarkable success in securing its largest-ever medal haul, has left me reflecting on disability in our society—especially in contrast to certain decisions and conversations I’ve witnessed in local government.
While many describe the athletes as “inspirational, brave, and remarkable,” I believe the real driver behind their achievements is the same as that for most of us: a desire to excel. These athletes aren’t competing to inspire us—they’re competing to win, to achieve personal and national glory.
This distinction is crucial because it emphasizes that disabled individuals are not symbols of either inspiration or pity. They are people with ambitions, skills, and the right to pursue them without existing systemic barriers. While their honours are well deserved, the question remains: have we made progress toward a fairer society for people with disabilities?
Throughout my life and political career, one of my greatest frustrations has been the system of benefits for disabled people. Thankfully, the days of hiding disabled individuals away in institutions are over.
I remember how close I came to being cast aside as a teenager. At 14, before I was diagnosed with a progressive sight-loss condition that would leave me registered blind, I had high aspirations of becoming a doctor or a human rights lawyer. I was academically strong and had big dreams.
But then life changed. After my diagnosis, I was introduced to the benefits system. I was offered qualifications in either basket-weaving or telephone switchboard operation to prepare me for life in the one-bedroom council flat I would eventually qualify for.
Even then, I refused to take the path of least resistance. I earned my university degrees, co-founded a successful company with my husband, and became a local councillor. It’s in this latter role where my frustration truly deepens.
There is a clear divide between those whose disabilities are so severe that they will never be able to work and those who are capable and willing. The state should provide fully and respectfully for those unable to work. However, many disabled individuals can and want to work, yet the system, along with societal prejudice, offers them few opportunities for meaningful employment.
The assumption that disabled people are either entirely incapable of working or should be pitied is harmful and outdated. The introduction of Personal Independence Payment (PIP) was a step in the right direction, but it failed to open up accessible employment opportunities for those who scored fewer points. This created a race to the bottom.
Living on benefits is unsatisfactory. The state provides just enough to prevent starvation, but for many young adults on disability benefits, there’s no path forward. Career progression, savings, and dreams hit a dead end. The only way to increase income is if your condition worsens—a prospect no one wishes for. It’s a deadlock that leads to resentment and frustration.
I had hoped that Mel Stride, the former Work and Pensions Secretary, might bring meaningful reform, but I see no real change on the horizon. After the election, there is a palpable inertia within the system, and a lack of urgency to address these issues at government’s highest levels. When it comes, change is incremental and far too slow to impact the lives of disabled individuals’ lives.
Disability advocacy groups have become adept at gaining government attention for small victories. However, my wish has always been for a framework that genuinely supports disabled people in the workplace.
Such a framework would allow employers to bridge gaps when a disabled employee is unable to work due to a flare-up, supplement working hours with able-bodied assistance when productivity is affected, and much more. While the upfront cost may be higher, these efforts would normalize disabled individuals in the workplace, fostering greater understanding and inclusion over time.
I saw firsthand the harsh realities of employment for disabled people when I worked as a teaching assistant at a small independent school. An outstanding Early Years teacher, who was registered disabled due to severe asthma, would frequently miss work, and the cost of covering her absence nearly broke the struggling school. Most small businesses can’t absorb these costs, so employers often take the path of least resistance when hiring.
This brings me to the Norfolk Minimum Income Guarantee (MIG). Local government funding is stretched. Many councils are pushed to the edge of bankruptcy. When budgets are so severely cut, councils are forced to scrutinize statutory obligations versus discretionary services, and this can spell disaster.
In 2017, Norfolk County Council (NCC) attempted to reduce the MIG, but a judicial review ordered the income guarantee raised well above the statutory minimum, creating the “Norfolk MIG” precedent. This outcome has made other councils wary of similar reviews, fearing the same result.
Under immense pressure from a £50 million funding gap, the NCC Cabinet decided to close the gap between the statutory minimum and what they were paying their most vulnerable residents. In August, they reduced the MIG by approximately 10 percent per week—a devastating blow in light of rising energy prices. This reduction represents not just a financial shortfall, but a symbolic failure to support those who rely most on local government.
We need a “whole life journey” approach to disability. In Norfolk, for example, we celebrate a wonderful annual tradition where truckers take disabled children on a convoy from Norwich to Yarmouth. It’s a joyful, noisy event with truck horns blaring and smiles all around. But while this is a heartwarming gesture, it is not enough.
There must be a better solution. We need funding strategies not only to support disabled people in employment but to also support their employers—not to push disabled individuals into jobs they can’t manage, but to meaningfully support those who want and can work.
There’s a gap between the touching tenderness of events like the Norfolk Truckers Convoy and the pride we feel watching Paralympians compete. That gap is filled with anxiety, prejudice, and poverty.
The path forward requires more than just policy tweaks; it demands a fundamental shift in how society views disability. Disability should not be seen as a problem to be managed, but as a natural part of the human experience, deserving of respect and accommodation. We can and must do better.
The current system, riddled with short-sighted cuts and symbolic gestures, is simply not enough. It’s time for real, structural change that recognizes the potential of disabled individuals and supports them in realising it.