The prime minister has announced a further £102 million to get people off the streets this winter, on top of the £340 million already pledged since he took office. I welcome the ambition wholeheartedly.
But an emergency bed will get someone through the winter, but it won’t, on its own, get them out of homelessness for good. I’d measure this investment’s success less by how many people are indoors by Christmas and more by how many are still in a home of their own a year later, settled, working, and part of a community again.
In my experience of working with homeless veterans at Royal British Veterans Enterprise (RBVE), some are visibly sleeping rough, but many more are sofa surfing, sleeping in cars, or moving between temporary arrangements, invisible in the rough sleeping count altogether. Some are behind beach huts or tucked away in woodlands. Others go further still, destroying their own documents so there’s no trail left to find them, wanting to stay hidden rather than be seen. Because of this, the true extent is likely far greater than any of us realise.
Helping them out of homelessness for good rarely comes down to a bed alone. We see this at our village in Kent, home to hundreds of veterans and their families, where secure homes are integrated with employment pathways.
Without a job, a home you actually want to be in slips further and further out of reach. It’s a hard cycle to break, and often impossible without the right support. We’ve found that 72% of our veterans who went on to live independently did so because they’d secured paid work first. The two go hand-in-hand and it’s moving to watch someone step into their long-term home, one they’ve chosen and worked for.
Community matters just as much, and I think of Ned when I say that. He was only 24 when he arrived with us, but he’d already carried more pain than most people face in a lifetime. He’d grown up in the care system, with all the instability that comes with it, and later, despite passing his military training, was discharged from the Forces on medical grounds. When he turned to his foster family as an adult, they didn’t want him back, not even for a few weeks. He told me once that at his lowest point he’d eaten food he’d found on the pavement. I could see what it cost him to tell me that. Veterans carry their pride for good reason, and no one who has served should ever find themselves there.