The numbers were still good.
Jodi stared at the screen. Same columns, same margins, same shifts - positive, statistically significant. Her model was right, the pilot programme was saving more money than it cost. For every pound issued in direct assistance, the Department was saving nearly two in saved emergency housing costs, acute care, crisis response.
The more strained a region already was, the bigger the benefits. A&E loads had dropped, fewer eviction proceedings straining local resources. Much lower truancy rates.
They’d changed the summary language, though.
She’d written; “validated projected savings”, the report said “evaluating cost neutrality”. They’d changed the titles of the graphs. Nothing about reduced spend or predicted fall, just passive constructs.
The line about statistically insignificant fraud rates was gone.
Her phone buzzed.
Re: Messaging adjustments (Q3 Reporting)
Jodi,
Thanks for usual rigor. I reframed the summary to ensure alignment with current sentiment indicators and polling predictions. Get ahead of expected press narrative.
Let me know if you need to discuss further.
~ L
She closed the message. Scrolled back to the top of her report document and read it again.
It used to be that the report would be published, to gauge the press response, before trying to manipulate the messaging too much. Now the rewrites happened before, upstream. Language was couched early. Growth opportunity. Public concern. Future-viability models.
“We’re not changing course,” someone said in the weekly sync meeting, brushing a crumb from their shirt. “We’re giving people time to catch up.”
Jodi blinked, “But it’s working. What are they catching up to?”
“We know that. But the Minister is getting buried in more headlines about handouts. Dependency culture. We’ve got to read the room.”
She looked around the table, but nobody would meet her eye.
Back in her office, she tried to revise those notes. She couldn’t change the model, but at least she could change the phrasing. Short sentences. Simple headings. Leave less room for misinterpretation at least. She didn’t think it would matter.
The memo was next week:
Public benefits pilot paused pending further review
Due to public concern and fiscal prioritization, the Department is pausing the CAAP pilot pending deeper reassessment. No new disbursements will be permitted until further notice.
No name on the report. No mention of her model.
There was some reference to her work in a background appendix. “Aggregated departmental sources” the source for some of her projections. Fraud footnote replaced with a map of volatile sentiment areas.
Karrel from the Policy Unit invited her for lunch. A quick bite in the atrium, under the artificial skylights.
“Got to be about the politics, now,” he said. “The other side has a story. We just have data.”
“But the data is a story. Our story.”
“That’s not a story. It’s charts. Nobody cares.”
It wasn’t a cruel conversation. It was clear.
New proposals by the end of the month. Work First Pathways.
Wasn’t accurate to call it a program. It was a brand first. No transfers, just vouchers. Biometric check-in. Spending restricted by location, approved items only. No caregiving allowances. Didn’t fund transport gaps, or address housing loss.
Admin would cost 4.6 times of any savings.
They didn’t ask her to model efficacy.
“If you had to build a case for savings, where might you find one?” someone asked, in another meeting she hadn’t been able to get out of.
She hadn’t been able to answer. That evening she wrote a private note. She knew she wasn’t going to send it, but she wanted to remember.
Why are we doing this?
It works. We know it works. Why are we acting like it doesn’t.
We copy what they say, when what they say isn’t even true.
She reread it. Then deleted it.
She tried to resign the week before the election. They didn’t accept.
But her clearance was downgraded. She was taken off some of the weekly briefing notes. They gave her a big, boring, backlog of data auditing to complete. Professional containment.
Silently updating a decade-old cost-benefit model. Something sunsetted by a deputy minister three governments ago. Filling in paperwork for a political ghost.
On Friday she passed a wall screen in the lobby. Banner headline from the news networks scrolling across the ticker.
BENEFITS FOR JOBLESS RISE. HOME SECRETARY “UNCLEAR” ON METRICS.
The quote was from someone she used to brief. She paused. Walked on.
Election night wasn’t even close to being close.
Opposition swept the Commons. More calls for “immediate reform”. “Close the loopholes, return to common sense.”
At 7.48am in the morning her calendar updated.
9.00am - Department Debrief
(J. Karrel, L. Omari)
She showed her pass at the gate, nobody stopped her.
It was an old conference room. Laminate, the smell of stale coffee. Karrel gave her a tired, small, smile.
“Jodi,” he said, standing up. “Come in. We just wanted to talk over next steps.”
There was a folder on the table. Unlabeled.
She closed the door behind her.