The State's so-called homeless strategy is failing our most disadvantaged people, writes Alice Leahy
The recent scandal where three homeless people were found dead within a 48-hour period underlines just how urgently we need to address the issue of how we as a society treat our most vulnerable citizens.
At a time of unparalleled prosperity one might think it would be an easy matter. However, after reading the latest survey of homeless people and the prison service, one is left feeling that public policy seems to be geared to nurturing a "collective deception" that all is well when clearly it is not.
One cannot tackle any problem unless one acknowledges it exists, and that it is serious enough to warrant concerted action. But since a recent survey showed that 54 per cent of the prison population have a history of homelessness, it appears not only that the true scale of the problem has remained hidden, but that public policy seems to be geared to maintaining that "collective deception" in the sense that as long as homeless people are off our streets there is no problem, even if they are incarcerated.
It is worth underlining that the survey reveals that a good percentage were sent to prison for offences linked to their homelessness and that as many as one in four people are homeless on committal.
This came as no surprise to us, and is also very worrying, because it underlines that our so-called homeless strategy is failing the most vulnerable, especially in Dublin where people are also drawn from other parts of the country, and leads to the question: does the fact that so many formerly homeless people are in prison explain why the figures for people sleeping rough on the street are allegedly down?
We have extensive contact with the prison service and know many people who are homeless who have been in prison. We meet up to 60 men and women each morning, many of whom are ex-prisoners. Seeing new people every day, we find suggestions that the numbers sleeping rough in Dublin are as low as 100 are not credible.
People who sleep in doorways, parks, squats and "skippers" tend to fall through the cracks because, let us be honest, with their "chaotic lifestyles" and sometimes serious psychological and mental health problems they are very challenging to deal with.
Living rough also isolates them in a society which now places inordinate emphasis on conformism, appearance and success. Against that background it is easy to appreciate why some are forced out or excluded, and the prison system, as the figures in the latest survey show, has become the last refuge for many who, in a real sense, are the ultimate outsiders in Irish society. Indeed, some we know find life on the streets so appalling and violent at times that they actually welcome the opportunity to be sent to prison as a form of respite.
Why has society and the State and voluntary sector, despite our prosperity, allowed a situation to develop where so many homeless people are in prison that should not be there? Human contact and caring are not valued any more and, if anything, are actively discouraged by the system to the point where front-line people spending time to help people can be made to feel they are "wasting time with people".
Even the voluntary sector is now forced to adopt a management philosophy based on quantitative methods, using benchmarks and performance indicators, to obtain grant support, which means that the challenge to give time to people who need human contact and understanding increasingly becomes a question of budgets and figures instead of human need.
People are constantly being moved on in this new management culture that implies if you refer someone to some other agency you have been successful. The figures look good, when in fact another person in need has been further let down by society.
We saw this approach previously, in a different context, when the mental hospitals were emptied and their former patients were to be cared for by community-based services. Inadequate, or in some cases no, community-based services were provided for many, and the numbers of people homeless on the street increased. The "spin", on the other hand, was that this was "reform", but for the people involved it just meant more rather than less misery.
Taking time and valuing human contact is not expensive if we want to end the cycle of alienation and exclusion that produces outsiders on our streets.
"Ray", a 50-year-old man who has been homeless for several years, provided me with a very practical example of this recently when he described what happened when he went in search of treatment:
"They don't see you now, they examine you on the computer and give you a piece of paper, then you leave."
If people who have deep psychological problems and cannot cope, just processing rather than listening to them will only ensure they drift from one service to another, never getting help and costing the State even more money. In other words, taking time with people is not expensive in the long term.
Meanwhile, in the increasingly expanding bureaucracy that has grown up around poverty and homelessness, the emphasis is on research or roles which have little or no direct contact with people who are homeless on our streets.
This means those who know most about the needs of the invisible people in Irish society are not listened to or taken seriously when they try to advocate on their behalf.
We need more people able to work with the most marginalised who are not intimidated by the smell, the pain and human consequences of extreme poverty and social isolation. We must start to put a real premium on that kind of caring, because if we want a truly inclusive society we need to move away from a culture where success and status based on job titles and credentials are paramount, to one in which people matter as people, and those who care for people in any capacity, are listened to, especially when those in their care are often not able to speak for themselves.
We can make a difference by adopting a new philosophy in the health, social and homeless services in the State and voluntary sector by insisting on taking time with people, treating them as people and not as statistics and therefore avoid further alienating the most marginalised and those who are attempting to care for them.
Alice Leahy is director of TRUST, which provides health and social services to homeless people. www.trust-ireland.ie.