A began her application for superannuation in early April, some weeks before her 65th birthday. The application pack, initially mistaken for the Auckland telephone directory, duly arrived and the forms were filled out. They included one for her husband, not yet 65, confirming that he was who his wife said he was. Not good enough. Some weeks later he had to front at the Work and Income office so his driver's licence could be photocopied.
Why? To avoid the danger of identity theft. What relevance does his driver's licence have to his wife's application? It's all about the potential for identity theft. They already knew who he was because he had filled the form out, so what does his driver's licence add to that little pile of personal information? One must constantly guard against identity theft.
The reasonable riposte, of course, would have been 'Bollocks.' This has nothing to do with potential identity theft and everything to do with an invasive, ridiculous, no doubt enormously expensive process designed to achieve nothing more than the collection of useless information. They knew when the applicant was born, they knew she was a married New Zealander who lived in this country. What more did they need to know? Allowing for the fact that she was in imminent danger of someone stealing her identity.
B was granted superannuation 10 years ago, and for a decade everything went swimmingly. Then she remarried, and a day or two later fronted up at Work and Income with her marriage certificate to explain her change of name. Then she made a big mistake. She went on holiday.
Two months after her change of name Work and Income informed her, in writing, that more information was needed. She was on holiday, and didn't get the letter. Work and Income wrote again in April, noting that the information had not been supplied, and her pension, her sole source of income, had been stopped.
Little progress was made until last week, when this newspaper started making inquiries. B still has some way to go to convince Work and Income that nothing sinister is afoot, and perhaps that she hasn't stolen someone's identity, but at least her pension has been restored. Stopping it had, apparently, been "premature." No kidding. (A, incidentally, was told that her super payments would not begin until the application process was completed, and would not be backdated to her date of birth. That, according to a higher authority, wasn't right either. If the policies that govern Work and Income were inspired by Monty Python, some employees are apparently adding their own twists by making decisions on the hoof).
The information Work and Income wants from B is regarding her husband, an Australian national who receives an Australian war pension. The inquisition is designed to ensure that they end up no better or worse off than any other New Zealand couple. Again, isn't national super national super? Since when has it been means tested? If B's husband was a millionaire toy boy would that affect her pension? If so, why? If not, why the questions? It would not affect her tax because we don't have income splitting, so what does his pension have to do with hers?
Work and Income agreed with this newspaper that everything it wants to know about B's husband will be known to Australian authorities, but it would need his permission to gain access to that information. Has it asked for his permission? No. The first tactic was to stop B's pension when she didn't respond to its letters.
B was also told that this might have been avoided had she told Work and Income that she was going to the South Island. That didn't go down well either. Are superannuants really required to inform Work and Income when they go on holiday within New Zealand? Should they also seek permission to go camping or visit family out of town? Does Work and Income need to have access to every superannuant at all times, unless, of course, said superannuants are prepared to have their sole source of income stopped?
It isn't only B's husband's income that interests these extraordinarily diligent bureaucrats though. He's been an Australian all his life but hasn't always lived there. He's lived and worked all over the world. So they want to know where he has lived outside Australia, why he lived outside Australia, specific dates when he left Australia and returned, and what he was doing when he wasn't living in Australia.
B's husband is not of a mind to answer those questions, even if he could. He knows where he's been and why, but, a little suspiciously perhaps, specific dates elude him. The department could, of course, delve into his old passports, but would probably need his permission to do that, and, on this couple's experience, taking the simple, direct approach doesn't appeal.
Applicants who are treated like this have every reason to be angry. (A Work and Income employee in Kaitaia told the writer that most of the abuse staff get these days is from the over-65s. That should not be a surprise, given that many of them will be sane, rational people who are having their first encounter with this brand of megalomania, and they can be guaranteed not to appreciate it). The taxpayers who fund this obscene waste of money might also be grumpy.
OK, so we should lie awake at night worrying that someone might be about to steal our identity - dead children in marked graves are more likely victims, one imagines, than your common or garden OAP - but even if the risk is real there must be much more rational means of addressing it than turning the super application process into a circus, which, in A's case, is well into its second month and shows no sign of ending.
It's time common sense was restored at Work and Income. And it's time its clients were treated with some respect.
