SCOTLAND’S new social security system must not become “the DWP with a kilt on”, say the ordinary people enlisted to ensure it delivers.

People who have lived with illness, disability, poverty and exclusion have been appointed to advise Social Security Scotland – and challenge its leadership on performance.

The Dundee-based body, which is to be responsible for delivery 11 separate payments, started distributing funds for the first time just last month. And last week its executive advisory body met for the first time.

As members prepare to assess its early performance and prepare for more benefits being handed over in a timetable agreed with Westminster, they told the Sunday National how their personal histories have prepared them to take on a massive task.

And they insist that while challenges lie ahead, they will not allow Social Security Scotland to become “a tartan DWP” (Department for Work and Pensions).

“This is about finding a fundamentally different way of doing things,” says member Ewan Gurr. As the former Scotland development manager for the UK-wide Trussell Trust, he spent years dealing with the impact of low pay, deprivation and sanctions.

He says William Beveridge, who laid the foundations of the post-war welfare state, “would be deeply dismayed if he say the system operating” from Westminster now.

That assessment is not only drawn from his time distributing emergency three-day provisions packs to families, it is also informed by his own experience of claiming benefits.

The first time Gurr signed on was 14 years ago. At that point he “felt supported” but, on leaving the food network to pursue a Masters qualification, he found much had changed when he re-registered for support.

“I have sat for years hearing stories that would convince you that the social security system was akin to a torture chamber,” the Dundee man says. “Well, it has completely changed from what I knew.

“When you go in the door, the first thing you see is two security guards with walkie talkies. The language you hear is really threatening – you could be sanctioned. We used to sanction foreign dictators, now we’re sanctioning poor people. It’s really shameful.

“This cannot be the DWP with a kilt on.”

The Scottish Government has made dignity, fairness and respect the central principles of its new agency.

Non-executive members of the advisory body – who also include Laura Brennan-Whitefield, a South Ayrshire councillor with multiple sclerosis, Chris Creegan, chair of the Scottish Association of Mental Health, and Elaine Noad, ex-commissioner for Scotland with the Disability Rights Commission – say efforts to recruit a diverse team able to empathise with claimants should help these values remain central.

But Jessica Burns, who recently retired as social security and child support regional tribunal judge for Scotland, says this could become a challenge as the new system takes on more responsibilities.

The first payments made were top-ups for those eligible for Carer’s Allowance, while Best Start Grants and Funeral Expense Allowance will follow.

While Universal Credit remains reserved to Westminster, Personal Independence Payments and other benefits related to disability will transfer across, and ministers have already confirmed that health assessments for claimants will be handled in-house, ending the private sector contracts that have caused much controversy.

Claimants have reported feeling humiliated and tricked by staff brought in by for-profit firms appointed by the UK Government, with many Scots facing long waits for home tests due to a lack of qualified staff outwith the Central Belt, and others left to challenge rulings that stated they were fit for work, despite contrary opinions from doctors.

Burns, who says her early life in Dumfries and Carlisle made her aware of the impact of poverty on ambition and prospects, said it is too early to know if the ethos will translate to a positive experience for clients.

“At the moment the decisions being made are causing a lot of satisfaction,” she says, “because people are being given money that they were quite surprised about. As the service expands there will be some people, as with any benefits system, that feel their needs haven’t been as well met as they could have been. People who feel disappointed feel disrespected. It’s going to be a challenge to negotiate.”

Burns began her working life as a receptionist with the forerunner of the DWP in Carlisle before going on to gain degrees in sociology and law. “My whole life has been involved with the benefits system,” the 65-year-old judge says.

Raised in Lochmaben, near Lockerbie, her family moved to Carlisle with her father’s job as a catering officer within the NHS. Once there, the family was considered “posh” because they had a bathroom. “It sounds like prehistory,” Burns says, “but it’s the truth. I was surrounded by quite a lot of economic and social deprivation. It made me very conscious of how any help people can get makes a massive difference to their life and options.

Colleague Douglas Hutchens, ex-vice chair of the Care Inspectorate, agrees. “This is a real opportunity for Scotland to do it differently,” he says.

Hutchens, who sits on the UK Judiciary Appeals Tribunal, is registered disabled as the result of a childhood illness which left lifelong mobility problems.

That condition, he says, directly contributed to his 25-year career in the NHS. Unable to continue in the manual role, he switched to administration, until his health problems prompted early retirement. “It gave me something the graduates never had,” the 55-year-old says, “which was an understanding of what it was like to work at the sharp end of the health service.

“You seldom get an opportunity like this, to set something up that can make the lives of people in Scotland better,” he said.