The UK Labour government is, at long last, waking up to the vast increases in worklessness in Britain since the Covid-19 lockdowns. Today, there are over 700,000 more people claiming incapacity benefits than before the pandemic, with the number of claimants projected to surpass four million in just over two years. Equally alarming is the fact that people in their early 20s are more likely to be out of work due to health reasons, primarily mental ill-health, than those in their 40s.
Needless to say, there is no reason to believe that more young people in 2025 are incapacitated than ever. The rise in people opting out of work for mental-health reasons is a reflection of our therapeutic culture, which invites young people to see themselves as vulnerable. The result is a marked decline in the self-reliant work ethic, which once made finding employment a basic expectation of any self-respecting citizen. Yet rather than confronting the cultural drivers of this economic disengagement, Labour’s response – led by Liz Kendall, the minister for work and pensions – risks entrenching them.
Notably, Kendall has made it clear that she views employment primarily as a means for improving one’s emotional wellbeing. When making the case for her benefit reforms earlier this month, she said that being in work is good for a person’s ‘mental health’, echoing a sentiment often promoted by occupational-therapy professionals in the NHS.
Now, it is undoubtedly true that there is dignity in labour. To contribute to society through work, to avoid idleness and to be active are important. No doubt it is also true that prolonged worklessness is compounding the sense of mental ill-health that so many jobless young people feel they are suffering from.
Nevertheless, it is wrong – indeed, patronising – to ignore the central reasons that the overwhelming majority of people actually seek employment: to earn a decent salary, to improve their living standards, and to secure long-term financial independence. Work is primarily about building wealth, not mental wellness.
Labour’s approach ignores this. Instead, it reflects a middle-class aversion to discussing money, as though material aspiration is inherently vulgar or crude. This post-materialist outlook may resonate in policy circles or with public-sector professionals, but it does not speak to the real economic motivations of most workers. If we are serious about rebuilding a work ethic – especially among younger generations – we must openly champion the material rewards of employment. A job should not be sold merely as a source of emotional fulfilment, but primarily as a pathway to a richer, more comfortable and more autonomous life.
By stripping work of its financial purpose, this new narrative risks equating paid employment with something like volunteering – something we do merely to structure our day, to pass the time or to interact with people outside the house. This subtly redefines labour as therapeutic rather than transactional.
Of course, much of the work that is being promoted by state agencies – for the unemployed, the young or the disabled – is poorly paid. The tension is clear: people are being asked to give up the security of benefits for insecure jobs that often do not pay more than what they receive in state support.
Poor pay has sadly always been a reality. In the past, workers dealt with this by striving for promotion, taking on additional hours or organising collectively to demand better wages. Even the most menial jobs were seen as entry points into a world of economic possibility, where hard work and initiative could lead to better prospects.
Crucially, in the workplace, unlike on welfare, individuals have a degree of agency. Workers are not simply passive – they are participants in an economic relationship. Employers rely on labour to generate profits, and that reliance gives workers bargaining power. Whether through individual effort or collective organising, workers can shape their own economic futures. Benefits, by contrast, offer no such autonomy. They leave recipients beholden to the generosity of the state and the whims of politicians.
Liz Kendall’s emphasis on mental health and wellbeing is not just misplaced, but it also risks infantilising those who are out of work. It reduces them to patients rather than potential contributors to the economy.
We must reject this squeamishness about money. Work should be celebrated not because it makes us feel better, but because it makes us financially stronger. Let’s restore ambition to the heart of our social contract: champion work not as a health benefit, but as a way to build wealth, independence and power.
Neil Davenport is a writer based in London.
