My Centrelink manual — Refracting Hope

Note: Centrelink is an Australian government program which delivers welfare payments. This post refers to rules relevant to pensions (including Disability Support Pension). Rules for other payments may vary. For another post I wrote about Centrelink see here

Four hours into my search of the Centrelink website and I’ve forgotten what I’m searching for.

The website is breathtakingly voluminous, the information disjointed, and the search function so useless that my brain begs me to Just. Give. Up.

As I land on each page, its multiple links send me to other pages with multiple links, so that now I have 20 tabs open across two website browsers, so I can flip between.

Deceivingly, the information only looks like it’s grouped into sections. “Assets” for instance, has a page, but to get the ‘fine print’ I must dig and dig, fearful that I’ve missed some sub-clause that will get me into trouble down the track.

I confess that I haven’t explored Centrelink’s website recently, believing the rules haven’t changed since I entered the welfare system years ago (when there wasn’t a website). In fact, I’ve relied on them to alert me to tweaks in my reporting “obligations”, assuming they know how unnavigable their website is. They never have.

Clearly, my primary welfare obligation has always been to regularly check the website to keep abreast of changes.

Reading through, it’s like their editorial team hasn’t kept up either, because the information appears contradictory, relying heavily on my interpretation of the governmental wording. The sentences, like a shapeshifter, change meaning on every re-read, so I have little idea what their intended meaning is. Twenty years ago, rules were few and straight forward, but now, some of the original ones have been elaborated on, increasing their complexity, and there’s a squillion new ones, ensuring noncompliance because it’s impossible to remember them all.

Grimly, I open a new Word document and start copy-pasting each webpage, creating my own manual.

First, “**assets”.** Helpfully, Centrelink provides examples so that it’s clear what I do/don’t have to report.

“Non-financial assets”, for instance. Centrelink’s two examples: “holiday home” and “Artwork”, imply that only expensive stuff are assets, which means I have no assets, and no reporting obligations.

But then I discover (on another webpage) “non-financial assets” rebranded as “Home contents” and “personal effects”. Skimming over things like “non-business livestock” and “boats”, I’m left with appliances, furniture, jewellery and laptops. Things which I do own. But…what about my other stuff?

The dishwasher-chipped bowls? The towels? Shouldn’t “contents” include EVERYTHING in my house? It’s unclear if it does, because Centrelink provides only one relevant exemption: counter to what my doctors might claim, my medication, RAT tests and thermometer (“medical equipment”) aren’t assets.

But what about my clothes? If Lifeline can sell them, I should be able to, so aren’t they assets?

If I ever work out what my assets are, Centrelink spells out how to report them.

And as I read, I gasp, reminded of the $150 I received for Christmas.

I could’ve put it in the bank (“deeming” and “financial assets” rules would have applied), spent it on food (reporting exempt), donated it to charity (“gifting” rules), bought someone’s birthday present with it (?gifting rules) or used it to buy myself something (assets rules if the item falls within Centrelink’s murky definition of “asset”).

I bought a microwave.

Confusingly, Centrelink doesn’t care how much I paid for this microwave or it’s replacement value, only its “market value” if I sold it; the amount I then report.

This isn’t a straightforward, once off task, as instantly, I spot the weaknesses in their approach. Done properly, compliance requires a Gumtree/Facebook Marketplace search for microwaves to calculate a value, which, although the rules don’t specify “current” value, logically, requires updating over time as it depreciates (e.g., in 12 months’, when the first bit of rust appears).

However, pausing my search to log into MyGov to work out where to ‘report’ the microwave, I discover instructions which tell me that I don’t have to report, because if the increase to my “personal effects” is $1000 or less, reporting is optional. But what happens if I don’t? Must I keep a spreadsheet with a running tally of assets I receive/sell/gift/bin/depreciate so that I can report once it cumulatively tips over $1000?

Compliance requires a clear head and a great deal of time.

I haven’t the time nor headspace to be ill.

I hope I never have to part with the microwave because, although Centrelink tells me to sell unwanted assets, they make it remarkably complicated, ensuring that I’ll struggle with this task too.

For instance, if I sell it

at the market value for second hand microwaves (say $50) – that’s okay
to my friend for $30 (mate’s rates) - not okay (deliberately underselling the item)
in return for a $50 Coles gift card instead of cash – okay
advertising it for $50 but accepting $10 (the highest/only offer) – okay
to buy food – okay (can sell it at any price)

Once sold, I must deduct $50/$10/?? from my “personal effects” and add it to my “financial assets”. Pointedly, in the MyGov portal, Centrelink provides two separate reporting boxes to remind me to move amounts from one to the other.

If, however, I accidently set the microwave on fire (like its predecessor) before I can sell it, I’ll have to deduct its value from my “personal effects”.

And, failing to sell it, if I give the microwave away, “gifting” rules apply.

The lowest stress scenario is if the microwave outlives me.

Once I locate them on the website, I’m wide-eyed as I scrutinise the ‘**gifting**’ rules.

Centrelink doesn’t mind generosity, so long as I don’t exceed my “gifting free area” ($10 000/financial year OR $30 000/5 financial years).

This means continually updating the MyGov ‘gifting’ reporting category, to ensure I don’t over-spend.

Because it works like this,

give my friend the microwave – I must add $50 to my tally of “gifts”
write off the $25 I loaned to a friend, give $2 to the homeless person, donate 10% of my “wages” (pension??) to church as a tithing offering, transfer $8 500 to the 2022 World Vision appeal…

Add it on. Add it all on.

Then, if/when I’ve blown my spending limit, for the next 5 years Centrelink will remind me of this by applying deeming and income and assets tests to the excess.

I’ll never overspend, but if I did, Centrelink would ensure I’d end up paying much, much more.

However. If I chose instead, to spend my “financial assets” on alcohol, gambling, cigarettes or drugs, that’s okay – they’re for me, so there’s no spending limit, and no penalty. I’d just need to remember to report gaming wins and update my “financial assets” as they dwindled.

Give me anything and what you’ve really given me is a maddening maze of reporting requirements, hinging on who it’s from, how often and the reason.

Is it

A “one off”, “hard to predict” gift which is “unlikely to happen again”? (it’s an ‘asset’) UNLESS it’s in appreciation for my service (income#)
the first of many gifts? (income) UNLESS from a close relative (asset) UNLESS from a close relative for something I’ve done (income)
a birthday/Christmas present? (asset)
compensation for travel costs? (exempt, if spent on travel, income if I keep any)

# I MUST accept it (otherwise I’m turning down income)

Apart from monetary, Centrelink’s definition of ‘gift’ and ‘income’ isn’t well specified, so I’ve no idea whether the $10 McDonalds voucher the church offered me in appreciation for dusting is unreported “income”. However, report it I must because Centrelink tells me I must report everything, even if I think it’s exempt.

**Income** is probably the only ‘section’ on the website anyone attempts to read but to get to it I must wade through something called “Deeming”, which at first seems annoying irrelevant, until horrifyingly, it isn’t.

Deeming is the bank interest Centrelink tells me I get.

It doesn’t matter if the interest the bank gives me is lower, Centrelink’s rate is what they deem I get, and that is income.

Something I never realised.

There’s no online calculator on the website, so it’s impossible to know how much my surprise income is without an understanding of percentages (and a handy app on my ipad). It’s important to know that amount, because once I’m employed this income is added to my employment income, which combined, may push me over the $190/fortnight I’m allowed to earn before they reduce my pension (i.e., $XX employment income + $XX deemed interest = $XX over the $190 cut off (of which they take half of every subsequent dollar).

So, employed or not, I’m always earning more than I think I am and saving less.

But that’s a good thing, because every dollar saved sails me closer to the assets cut off, which would slash my pension.

The **employment** section only tells me what I already know: Centrelink says they want me to work while I’m getting a pension, but they don’t really.

I’ve long known this, because their reporting system is designed for the stably employed, not for sick people who work sporadically and erratically.

Centrelink prefer online reporting, to keep their phone lines free, but unlike other pensions where employment can be reported online anytime, because I’m on Disability I must first ring them to request they open an online portal so I can report work hours/pay. That’s okay if I’m working EVERY fortnight, but if there are long gaps (weeks/months), the online system shuts me out, no warning, flicking me a MyGov letter informing me I no longer need to report. If, a day later, I get an hours work, I must ring them to request they reopen the reporting panel, and the whole process repeats. And repeats.

Another issue is Centrelink won’t accept disabled people work in anything less than 60-minute blocks. So, 30 minutes employment confuses them.

Those 30 minutes, they insist, is 60, making me look like I’m employed more hours than I actually am, and a good deal healthier.

They’re finicky about pay too. Employers prefer me to accrue a certain number of hours before they’ll pay me, which could take months. But if I ring Centrelink, they’ll say I must report fortnightly what I’ve earned for the yet-to-be-paid ‘hour’ that I’ve worked. Leaving me with an equation like this:

Fake 60min worked/30min actually worked = 2, anticipated amount per hour/2 = $28/2 = $14. And suddenly, I’m working for below minimum wage.

However, online, I’m instructed to report income only when paid, which they promise to average across work weeks. But they never do, instead treating it as one massive payslip, and reducing my pension more than they should.

Which means I must call to correct them…cutting into my work ‘hours’.

It’s all so stressful. Why would I want to work?

Confused? Scared?

So am I.

Interpreting, remembering and complying with my reporting obligations, along with the nagging fear that I’ll lose my pension, sets off my PTSD, aggravates every chronic illness I have, and reduces my ability to function. Centrelink doesn’t want me to get off a pension because their processes ensure I stay disabled enough to need one.

Luckily, for scattered people like me, in a fake friendliness, every few webpages Centrelink suggests I call them on my “regular payment line” (not provided on the page), before doing anything, if unsure about the rules.

But, I don’t want to…

The excruciatingly long wait times, the operators firing off questions like distrustful parole officers, before I’ve even told him/her what I want…

Surviving on welfare is about not drawing attention to yourself – for any reason.

Despite their website’s claim, Centrelink doesn’t want to speak to me, and they seriously don’t like me.

Calling them is something I DESPERATELY avoid because calling them is traumatic.

Which leaves me with my interpretation of their website.

And my new manual. All 66* painful pages of it.

* My manual could have been much longer - I didn’t include eligibility information, figuring that even with their updated, elaborate multi-box criteria, I have so much wrong with me that Centrelink are unlikely to quibble about whether I should be on a pension. And I skipped the age-related obligations, having aged out.