How council budget cuts are affecting domestic violence services – and those who need them

Edith England, Senior Lecturer in Social Policy and Practice, Cardiff Metropolitan University

Josie Henley, Lecturer in Social Sciences, Cardiff University

Late one Friday afternoon, Jess, who works with a major UK-based domestic abuse support organisation, had a phone call from her local homelessness office.

They had a woman with them, Mary, who was anxious, but determined to leave her violent husband of over 40 years. It would take Mary over an hour to get to the organisation.

Jess had been about to leave the office to pick up her daughter but instead, she stayed to wait for Mary. “I phoned my mum,” she told us, when we spoke to her in 2023. “That’s what we do. I said, ‘OK, give her my name, tell her I’ll be here waiting.’”

One in three women face domestic abuse during their lifetimes, according to global figures. Around 47,000 worldwide were killed by family members or partners in 2020.

Specialist services dedicated to helping these women are increasingly under-resourced. In the UK, Women’s Aid, has called on the UK government to invest around £400 million annually on these services. Insufficient, short-term funding, that is not ringfenced, means organisations are not able to properly deliver their services or plan for the future.

Our new report shows this is having a detrimental impact on the dedicated workers, like Jess. Many are at breaking point: over half the people we surveyed are actively considering leaving domestic abuse sector support services in the near future.

Highly specialised services

Domestic abuse refers to controlling, coercive, threatening, degrading or violent behaviour as well as sexual violence by a partner or ex-partner, a family member or carer. Statistics show it is a gender-based public health crisis.

The Istanbul Convention requires signatory states, including the UK, to address and prevent domestic abuse, through both legislation and policy as well as adequate and appropriate funding and resourcing of services. Recognising the importance of timely, sensitive and targeted support, the convention recommends that non-governmental organisations, like Jess’s, are at the centre of state efforts to address domestic abuse. These services rely upon highly trained, specialist staff to deliver services effectively.

To understand what effect funding cuts are having on the British workforce, between January 2022 and January 2023 we interviewed 64 workers in the domestic abuse sector. We also conducted a survey of 110 workers, looking at their emotional and psychological wellbeing.

We found that while workers in the sector are passionate about the importance of their work, they are unable do their job properly without consistent and adequate funding. They report poor wellbeing and high levels of burnout. Over half of those we surveyed are actively considering leaving the sector in the near future.

Devalued

Jess has worked for more than ten years with people who have experienced domestic abuse. She says she is proud to work in this field, but feels devalued nonetheless. “I do feel like I can hold my head up high with the work we do,” she said. “But it breaks my heart. We are so needed. The sector is so, so broken, it’s struggling so hard and we are too. I’d earn more stacking shelves at Tesco.”

Like others, she feels the workforce is seen as expendable, explaining that “you have an expiration date on you as soon as you walk in that door”. Lucy, who worked with young victims of abuse, explained that “we know we’re basically just fodder – they chew through us, there’s always more of us”. As Miriam, who, like many of those interviewed, had trained to masters level for her role, explained, “We talk about it. You’ve got a shelf life. Three, maybe four years in you, and then you’ve got to move on or you’re no good to anyone.”

Critical underfunding

More than one-third (35%) of Women’s Aid services report losing staff as a result of job insecurity in 2022. This reflects a serious loss of expertise to the sector.

Jess was able to work with Mary on a one-to-one basis, over months, during which time Mary went from barely speaking to confidently advocating for her peers.
Domestic violence workers deploy specialist relational skills including compassion and empathy. These are underpinned by extensive legal and practical knowledge. All are critical to helping women like Mary.

A year or two after moving into her own housing, Mary came back to the service with a bunch of flowers and a card for Jess. “I didn’t recognise her, I’ll be honest,” Jess said. “She was radiant, glowing. She’d turned it around completely.”

Services like Jess’s are transformative. Yet, the work they do is under threat. Domestic abuse provision is primarily funded by the local authority but is non-statutory, which means it is vulnerable to budget cuts.

Since 2010, austerity measures have seen funding in real terms dwindle. In 2021, Women’s Aid showed that in 2019-20, 59% of councils in England had cut their domestic abuse services budget: by November 2020, there were 24.5% less refuge spaces than there should be.

The pandemic further stretched these services, while also increasing demand for what meagre support there was.

The growing financial crisis in local government, across England, is now excerbating this problem. Since 2018, eight councils across England have issued section 114 notices, effectively declaring bankruptcy. One in five local authorities – as many as one in two – could be next.

Amid the complete ban on non-statutory expenditure imposed when a council becomes insolvent, entire domestic abuse services are at risk of closure. Charities and domestic abuse centres and the domestic abuse commissioner, Nicole Jacobs, have warned that the results could be devastating.

Making effective support for those facing domestic abuse a statutory obligation would protect it from austerity-based cuts. Without such protections, it is those who have experienced abuse – mainly women – who will suffer. As Jess puts it: “If we go under, that’s it. No one’s picking up the pieces.”

This article was first published on The Conversation