Palma Ramos, the Minister of Labour, has become one of the loudest voices in support of what has been termed “social work,” the measure now at the center of the debate surrounding the proposed Single Social Benefit.
I consulted Spinumviva’s webpage regarding the government resolution approved by the Council of Ministers. I read carefully the promotional message it conveys, in which Palma Ramos appears as the savior of an entire economic model, riding triumphantly through a landscape of problems in order to cut through the bureaucracy of what is portrayed as an obsolete system.
According to the government’s official narrative, the Single Social Benefit brings together thirteen non-contributory social benefits, simplifying access to them. We should not allow ourselves to be deceived by the apparent simplicity of this stated objective. How does one simplify access to thirteen distinct benefits, each designed for thirteen different social realities, each requiring its own verification procedures, assessment methods, and oversight mechanisms? Every case must be treated individually if human dignity and each person’s rights are to be respected. The answer, though left unstated, is itself simple: it cannot be simplified.
What is really being pursued, at least at first glance, is the consolidation of a range of procedures by relying on artificial intelligence algorithms to process paperwork at an inhuman speed while supposedly eliminating excess. The problem is that when a computer makes cuts, it is rarely concerned with dignity. We have already seen examples of this in Donald Trump’s United States and in Javier Milei’s chainsaw approach to government.
Beyond this automation of the Social State’s safety nets—an automation that, in the author’s view, reduces their effectiveness while increasing the human toll—lies the issue of the so-called “incentive to return to work,” commonly referred to as social work. Perhaps the author suggests that history may one day describe it as forced labor, should it eventually judge Montenegro and Spinumviva fairly. Palma Ramos presents herself as having the solution for those she characterizes as indigent, unwilling to work. She, who accumulated her fortune, the author argues, on the backs of workers, as, in the author’s view, all very wealthy people do. Thus, the old authoritarian notion is reborn: that labor liberates the poor from laziness and criminality.
If there is a shortage of workers, then pay them accordingly. Do not pay three hundred euros to a woman suffering from chronic health conditions to perform work that would ordinarily command a salary of around one thousand euros. According to research painstakingly compiled by qualified scholars such as historian Raquel Varela, the overwhelming majority of those who will now be compelled into this form of work are individuals dismissed after twenty or thirty years of employment and who have found no place within neoliberal policies. To make matters worse, many of these people may, in theory, be expected to care for senior citizens, individuals with disabilities, and others living in situations of profound vulnerability.
Hunger is thus paired with desperation, and Spinumviva, the author contends, attempts to solve two problems with a single blow. The weakest are sacrificed; the impoverished are humiliated. The government can then claim that there is neither an employment crisis nor a crisis in the social safety net. Everything has supposedly been solved by decree—through artificial intelligence, endorsed by a millionaire minister acting under powers delegated by a prime minister better known, in the author’s words, for favors and consultancy contracts.
A final word for those who insist that this measure dates back to António Costa’s government. There is little value in spending years denouncing António Costa only to defend yourselves by claiming that you are merely implementing what had already been planned. If this is indeed a measure inherited from the very government you repudiated, then look in the mirror and repudiate yourselves.
Social work, the author concludes, will liberate an entire generation of the wealthy while burying an entire generation of the poor.
Alexandra Manes is from Flores Island but lives on Terceira Island in the Azores. She is a regular contributor to several Azorean newspapers, a political and cultural activist, and has served in the Azorean Parliament.
NOVIDADES will feature occasional opinion pieces from leading thinkers and writers in the Azores, providing the diaspora and those interested in the current state of the Azores with a sense of the significant perspectives on some of the archipelago’s issues.
Translated to English as a community outreach program from the Portuguese Beyond Borders Institute (PBBI) and the Modern and Classical Languages and Literatures Department (MCLL).