ionetics

Unreliable and possibly off-topic

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Thursday, August 28, 2008

HMRC and "your youngest child"

This is getting beyond a joke- I'm becoming a full-time complainer. But I can't stand it when authority is stupid.

Yesterday I phoned HM Revenue & Customs to try to affirm for my Child Tax Credit status that I've had no change in circumstances, e.g. a massive pay rise or a win on the lottery. The gentleman who took my call put me through a long list of security questions, the last of which was my youngest child's date of birth. At this point, I was informed in stern tones (with a whiff of "you're a fraudster") that I had given incorrect information and that I should re-check my paperwork and call back later.

I checked my Child Tax Credit paperwork and realised that some years ago, on advice from HMRC, the kiddos' dad and I had split up the kiddos so we each claimed for one. I happen to claim for the Big Wan and he for the wee wan.

When I phoned back and went through the same 20 security questions, when asked my youngest child's DOB this time I checked which youngest child they meant? The youngest child I bore and care for, or the youngest child for whom I claim tax credits? Of course, they wanted the latter.

But that's not what they asked. And don't try to tell me that the HMRC database doesn't talk to the ID, council tax, registered births or school databases. Call me a pedant, but in a 21st century where shared custody is (thankfully) enshrined in law, HMRC should try to ask for what they actually mean and not what they assume to be usual practice (i.e. single mothers and absent fathers).

I spoke to a manager at HMRC tonight and tried to get this point across. I'm assured that my complaint has been noted, but that the Data Protection Act means they can't confirm that my incorrect security answer yesterday was my factual response to their incorrectly-worded question. Laughing uproariously at this, I countered with a question about the counterbalanced rights afforded to me by the Freedom of Information Act.

Is there something wrong with me? Am I mad cat-lady from Tunbridge Wells who lives only to complain to bureaucrats? Possibly. There are worse types of people, though I never intended to become one.

Honestly, I don't look for this hassle with the authorities. Seems to me they specially seek me out for a right proper fucking over, and I'm not likely to happily acquiesce.