Why our members are ready to walk

Our members say enough is enough and who can blame them?

What happens when the people who manage sex offenders, terrorists, and other high-risk individuals don’t show up for work?

The government may just find out.

This summer, thousands of probation staff, many of them Napo members, could down tools after being pushed past breaking point. Spiralling caseloads, shrinking pay packets, and dwindling staff numbers have made working in probation almost untenable. But ministers have looked the other way.

Now, the people holding back a wave of chaos in the justice system are deciding on whether to take action. And if they do, it’s the public who’ll be left exposed.

They don’t wear uniforms. But they protect the public every day.

Our members are the invisible backbone of the justice system. They supervise some of the most complex and dangerous people in society including those convicted of sexual offences, knife crime, domestic abuse and murder.

They challenge, they rehabilitate, they manage risk. They support change and intervene when public safety is at stake.

They do all this under immense pressure. With fewer staff. With less time. On salaries that barely cover the basics. And after years of neglect, they’ve had enough.

We are now balloting for industrial action. Not because our members want to stop working, but because they’ve been left with no other choice. This isn’t just about pay. It’s about their survival and your safety.

A slow collapse made in Westminster

This crisis that can be solved by Westminster, began in Westminster.

Successive governments have slowly picked at the body of probation until all that is left is bones. Probation was once held up as a gold standard. Now it’s struggling to stand at all.

When this government brags about easing prison overcrowding with its early release schemes, it’s not ministers managing the risk. It’s probation staff.

Those released early don’t vanish. They land squarely on our members’ caseloads. They become our members responsibility.

We had hoped that Labour’s pre-election promises of restoring the probation service to its right and respected place within the justice system would be honoured. Now we have yet another government who shifts risk onto the probation service, refuses to fund it properly or pay the people who keep the public safe fairly.

Real lives, real costs

Since 2010, our members have seen a 60% real-terms pay cut. Thousands have left. Last year alone, over 103,000 working days were lost due to stress-related illness.

And yes it’s true. 1 in 5 probation staff now use food banks.

Some of our members say they would earn more stacking shelves or flipping burgers without having to deal with the stress or responsibility of probation work. Others are on the verge of walking away from the job they once loved. And they’re right to ask: why stay in a role that demands so much, and gives back so little?

Picking up the pieces and paying the price

The pay claim submitted by Napo, UNISON and GMB calls for a 12% pay increase. That’s still less than the 20% given to police staff and 16.8% to prison officers between 2022 and 2024.

This isn’t an unreasonable request. Because if pay doesn’t rise, we’ll lose even more experienced staff and we’ll struggle to bring new people in. The service can’t function like that. Public safety can’t function like that.

This is a warning. Not a threat.

Probation staff don’t want to take industrial action. They want to serve the public. But they cannot keep carrying the justice system on their backs while being treated like they don’t matter.

This is more than just another industrial dispute. It’s a fight for the future of probation. And for the safety of our communities.

If our members are forced to take action, don’t ask why.
Ask why those in power left them no other option.