Chamber and committees

I, too, thank Daniel Johnson for securing the debate, which enables us to discuss the implications of not introducing a learning disability, autism and neurodivergence bill timeously and helps us to focus our collective endeavours towards immediate actions that must take place across every part of our public services, and indeed at the heart of our communities, our workplaces and society at large.

Karen Adam and others have listed many such actions that we can take. The status quo simply does not work for people with learning disabilities or neurodivergence. In turn, that means that it is not working for society as a whole, and we are all poorer because of that.

I stand here as a not formally diagnosed but self-declared middle-aged woman with ADHD. It came as quite a shock at first, when it was suggested to me by a specialist a few months ago, but, over the past few months, I have begun to understand myself through that lens better than I have ever done in my 50 years on this earth. However, my journey and my family’s journey to this time and place have been born of five years of immense struggles, tears, school avoidance, trauma and a colossal fight that seemed as if it was being fought on every front. It felt as if we were doing battle with the system and were taking on heavy casualties at every turn.

My husband and I are parents to a wonderfully unique, funny, kind and intelligent young person who is autistic and who has ADHD. When I look back, it amazes me that the world could not see early on what is so blatantly obvious now. That lack of seeing them for who they truly are, which would have enabled supports to be put in place, led us to a very dark place that involved complete school refusal and a retreat from the world at the age of 13. I cannot adequately describe the anxiety, the sleepless nights, the tears, the frustration and the palpable anger and impotence that we felt as parents.

Our child was totally failed by a system that shut them out from being able to participate fully in their own life. They are not alone. My inbox is full of families and adults crying out for support for themselves or their loved ones, whether that is the parents of a learning disabled young person on the cusp of transitioning into adult services who realise that there is little meaningful provision or opportunities on offer; parents who are in the situation that we were in of battling to have their young person’s needs assessed and acted on while trying to keep their own heads above water; or adults who, like me, realise that they are neurodivergent but find that waiting lists for assessment are either closed completely or require a co-occurring severe and enduring mental health condition—potentially giving rise to such a severe mental health condition, substance use or binge eating. I could go on and on.

None of that is in any way acceptable. However, the vast amount of work that had been undertaken on the LDAN bill gave me huge hope that the system could finally be made to change so that people with learning disabilities or neurodivergence or who are autistic—or, indeed, people who have a combination of all those issues—could live their best authentic lives. I was devastated when the bill was not included in the programme for government and when a commissioner role was not to be created.

I agree with Autism Scotland, Aberlour and others that creating a new commissioner would be a key driver for change and would ensure accountability through an independent role, with statutory powers and duties, that would champion the rights of all people with learning disabilities, autism or neurodivergence. It would be their role to challenge Governments, councils and employers and to drive the change that is required for rights to be respected, protected and fulfilled.

Imagine a Scotland where there is no disability employment gap. We have heard about how devastating that gap is. Such a change is not one that can be overseen by a single minister, a single committee, a Parliament, a council chamber or a sector. This is a multisystemic failure that requires a whole-system, whole-community and whole-family approach.

The human cost of the status quo is horrific, but it also has a cost to the public purse. We have a lot of good policies, but the implementation gap persists, along with the clear local accountability gap. That must change. [Applause.]

I am trying to figure out whether, in the UK context, a decision was made to focus on the crime being abduction, which feels like a very different type of language to use as opposed to theft, because abduction puts some of the context on to the abductee, which in this case would be the dog. That was the gist of where I was coming from, but you are stating that neither of the terms would make any difference to how the offence would be investigated or prosecuted.

That is very helpful. Thank you for that.

Good morning. The use of the term “abduction” in the United Kingdom Pet Abduction Act 2024 switched the focus from the owner’s loss to the animal’s welfare. In current common law, as has been outlined this morning, and under the proposed bill, the victim of the crime of theft would be the dog owner. Do you have any views on the use of “theft” versus “abduction” in respect of investigation and prosecution? Perhaps Laura Buchan can start.

I worked for Scottish Women’s Aid for more than a decade, and there are definitely instances of coercive control under the Domestic Abuse (Scotland) Act 2018 in which it is recognised that instances of theft of pets or harm to pets, especially dogs, are related to the perpetuation of such coercive control and domestic abuse. Could the proposed bill be strengthened in any way in that regard, or do you think that the existing legislation takes on the seriousness of that perpetuation of coercive control by the theft of dogs?

I start by putting on record my deep thanks to Maggie Chapman for securing this debate and bringing to the chamber the urgent issue of the destitution that is experienced by people who find themselves classed as having no recourse to public funds or restricted eligibility for such funds. We are talking about people having their ability to access sufficient food, shelter, care and opportunity either denied or savagely curtailed. They are destitute by design.

I also express my deep gratitude to Professor Jen Ang for everything that she has done over the years, but in particular for her recent legal briefing publication, “Ending Destitution in Scotland—A Road Map for Policymakers”, which was commissioned by I-SPHERE and the Joseph Rowntree Foundation as part of the fair way Scotland partnership.

I point members to my entry in the register of members’ interests, as I am a member of Simon Community Scotland’s connect hub for women development board. Simon Community Scotland is an integral part of the fair way Scotland partnership, and the connect hub provides person-centred, trauma-informed support to women who are experiencing homelessness or insecure housing, some of whom find themselves with no, or limited, access to public funds.

I became acutely aware of the flaws in our safety-net scaffolding many years ago while I was working in a women’s refuge. Our Women’s Aid group was supporting two young Polish mothers who had fled domestic abuse, but the Department for Work and Pensions and the local council were telling us that they had no recourse to public funds because they were unable to satisfy the habitual residency test, as they had come from what were then still considered accession states that were not fully in the European Union—again, that is destitution by design.

We had two women in their 20s, for whom English was their second language, with several young children, including a baby, who had not one penny to either of their names and only the clothes that they stood up in. All the agencies to which we would normally go in order to get support for women to access help were closing their doors in our faces, and we ended up using money from our own pockets to buy essentials to bridge the immediate gap. Our Women’s Aid collective took the decision that, as an organisation dedicated to supporting women to live free from abuse, we would shoulder the financial burden and forgo housing benefit and supporting people payments for the duration of their stay with us. It was either that or they returned to their abusers, and that was not an option for us.

I want to underline today, in this place, just how difficult the next year was for us as a charity, but it was more so for those women and their kids. We lost tens of thousands of pounds in revenue; anyone who knows anything about the third sector will know that that is not a sustainable position, but the alternative was unthinkable. I and my two refuge colleagues became experts in all things NRPF, and challenged decision after decision made by institutions that never seemed to apply the law in the same way twice.

We got decisions overturned with regard to provision for the children, as we knew that the local authority had discretion and also obligations. We dug deep ourselves to help to feed and clothe the two families and searched out every type of support that we could find for them, all the while trying to ensure that their whereabouts never got back to their abusers on the grapevine.

Eventually, we managed to help those women to secure all the necessary information and proof that enabled them to successfully challenge the original decision that had determined that they had no recourse to public funds—it was not backdated, though. Nonetheless, I will never forget the absolute joy and relief that was so very palpable in our refuge that day. That joy was replicated when both women moved into their own tenancies, away from abuse, with the necessary social security scaffolding and access to rights that we all take for granted. Both women went on to college and into employment and, more than a decade on, I have never, ever forgotten them.

However, the system should not be so opaque, punishing and brutal, and direct and indirect discrimination should not be the norm. The route map to ending destitution is now in black and white, and Maggie Chapman powerfully outlined its key steps today. As the former COSLA community wellbeing spokesperson, I worked on the “Ending Destitution Together” strategy, and I am glad to hear that it is being refreshed. Nonetheless, I urge the Scottish Government and the UK Government to work together to flex powers under devolution and dispense with the hostile environment, and finally deliver for this marginalised, maligned and terrified group of people.

I thank the individuals who engaged with the committee on the issue and who have sent representations to individual MSPs. I also thank the clerking team for their efforts to engage with those who have living experience of the situation, to try to ensure that their voices could be heard, which is not an easy task. That was one of the things that I felt was missing from the evidence that we took, but it was not for want of trying by the clerking team.

Is the no-wrong-door approach fundamental to engaging with a person and the totality of their needs as they present?

Thank you—that was very helpful. Do the other witnesses have anything to add?

For the purposes of this session, I declare an interest as a former East Ayrshire Council councillor and COSLA spokesperson.

I want to explore the right to receive a treatment determination. The bill seeks to give people who are diagnosed as having a drug or alcohol addiction by a relevant professional the right to receive a treatment determination and be provided with treatment. However, a number of submissions that we have received highlight concerns about the requirement in the bill for individuals to be given a diagnosis in order to receive a treatment determination and any subsequent treatment. What impact could the requirement to receive a diagnosis for addiction have on people’s ability to access services—particularly people who do not wish to seek a diagnosis? I will start with Eddie Follan and then bring in other witnesses.