DWP benefits and pensions changes August Bank holiday 2025
When a payment date falls on a weekend or a bank holiday, then the Department for Work and Pensions says the claimant is generally paid on the working day before.
Most payments due on Monday August 25 2025 will instead be made early, with most arriving on Friday August 22.
If your payment is due on a different day, it will arrive in your account as normal and the amount you are due to be paid will remain the same.
These are the benefits that may be affected by the bank holiday weekend:
Attendance Allowance
Carer's Allowance
Child Benefit
Disability Living Allowance
Employment and Support Allowance
Income Support
Jobseeker's Allowance
Pension Credit
Personal Independence Payment (PIP)
State pension
Tax Credits
Universal Credit
While you may be paid earlier in some cases, the money will also have to last you longer, as payment dates will return to normal afterwards.
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The DWP confirmed the early payment policy on its official website, stating: 'If your payment date is on a weekend or a bank holiday, you'll usually be paid on the working day before.'
While the amount being paid out will stay the same, experts are warning that the earlier date could throw off people's budgeting, especially as the cost-of-living crisis continues to bite.
The two remaining bank holidays for 2025 fall on Christmas Day and Boxing Day.
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The Guardian
15 hours ago
- The Guardian
'There's an arrogance to the way they move around the city': is it time for digital nomads like me to leave Lisbon?
For the past five years, I've lived in a flat in a four-storey apartment building standing atop a hill in the pastel-hued district of Lapa, Lisbon. I work from my desk at home, with a view of palm fronds outside the window as I dial into Zooms with London advertising agencies, for which I'm paid in pounds into a UK bank account. Upstairs, one of my neighbours makes money from France, and downstairs another offers financial coaching to a range of international clients. In the flat just across the hallway, three Scandinavian digital creatives work remotely for clients in their own home countries. All the school-age children attend international private schools. The building, clad in weathered Portuguese tiles, is owned by a single Portuguese family. The remote workers live among four siblings, aged 60-plus, who each live on one of the floors. The building tells a typical story of the demographic of the local area: Portuguese who have benefited from inherited wealth and foreigners earning foreign incomes. I'm British, and moved here from London – not for work or family, but because I could. I guess, in truth, I came for lifestyle optimisation: the sun, the beaches, the photogenic cafes. The Americans I know cite politics; the northern Europeans talk about slowing down. Andrew Steele, an ex-Olympic athlete running a health-tech firm out of the primary-coloured co-working space Lacs, talks of 'less ultra-processed food' and a life lived outside. He lives by Monsanto, a forest park bordering Lisbon that is often likened to Hampstead Heath. His daughter attends an idyllic-sounding Montessori forest school. What no one says explicitly is that they're here for the tax break. Moving to Portugal pre-Brexit with my partner, an art director, and our three-year-old son, we found it astonishingly easy to become residents. As freelancers and directors of our own limited companies, we were granted a non-habitual residency visa, one of the key benefits of which is we don't pay income tax on foreign earnings. 'These visas are designed to attract a desirable alien,' explains Fabiola Mancinelli, an anthropologist and associate professor at the University of Barcelona specialising in mobility and tourism. 'Applicants must demonstrate they are self-sufficient, are within a certain income bracket, have private health insurance. They're expected to bring their job with them, so they won't take a local's job. And, in exchange for this, they are often relieved of income tax.' We arrived in 2019, and, after 18 years in London ricocheting from interaction to interaction, the pain points of daily life softened in the Lisbon sun. Pushing my kid on the swings wasn't so mind-numbing; even the school run was novel now we'd swapped the no 38 bus for a wooden tram, or, let's be honest, an unreasonably cheap Uber. During my last week living in London, my three-year-old son asked why the toilets in our local pub were 'all greasy', and, while I didn't explain it was to stop people racking up lines of cocaine on the lids, something like relief moved through me as I realised we were about to leave that city and all its edges behind. For a time, there seemed no downside to this decision. We strode the blue-tiled calçadas of Lisbon believing that in this sun-soaked city we could be anything. Yet, over the past two years something has been stirring inside me, but also on the trams rattling past my window. A widening wealth gap. A political shift. A quiet awareness that the wealthiest residents are often the ones contributing the least. And then, recently, my unease was validated: Lisbon was named the most unaffordable capital city in Europe for housing, by Numbeo, the world's largest cost-of-living database. That same month, the far-right party Chega, with its openly racist rhetoric, became the main opposition party in parliament. And, all the while, property prices soared, reaching a staggering price-to-salary ratio of 21:1. In some places a flat white now costs €5. 'I didn't know about the tax break,' says Chris Pitney, who moved here with his Portuguese wife from north London, where he was born and raised. 'It wasn't until I'd completed a full year's worth of taxes that I understood – I didn't have to pay income tax on any foreign earnings.' Pitney, a designer who had been priced out of buying a flat in his home city, works out of an office in Lisbon that he rents with another British designer. Right now he's working for a New York company. 'Rather arrogantly, and not really understanding the consequences, I would say casually to friends back home, 'You should move here too!'' It's a lifestyle many incomers are ready to boast about: the best surf break in Europe, sun-drenched cafes, schools popping out bilingual children, afternoon padel games, the beach after work. Walk through the central Lisbon neighbourhoods of Rato, Lapa or Santos at 2pm on a Thursday, say, and you might wonder what the groups of men wearing vests, as seen through the windows of the sun-drenched cafes, do with the rest of their day. You might ask: who is attending the pilates studio that charges €35 for a single class in a country where 60% of taxpayers earn less than €1,000 a month? 'The brunch places have taken over the pavements,' Inés, a local woman in her 60s, tells me. 'Foreigners will reach over my head in the supermarket, they'll have their head down on their phone, making no space for me as I walk down the street. There is an arrogance to the way they move around the city.' What Inés describes, I feel too. Two different communities sharing the same streets – though certainly not the same cafes. There are thousands of people in Lisbon who earn their money from elsewhere. American dollars, UK pounds, Angolan kwanzas, even euros earned from job markets where freelance day rates are far higher, like Amsterdam or Paris. Perhaps they're strategists or marketers, tutors or traders, in fintech or wellness; maybe they're producers or photographers who will fly out to shoot in a studio in New York or LA before flying back, glad to call Lisbon and its milky, cloudless sky home. Generally, their days are spent sitting at home, at a small desk pushed under a shuttered window, or in a co-workspace where all the signage is in English. These remote workers, each bringing in money from abroad, are together creating a siloed economy. Untethered by offices and with no in-person colleagues, theirs is a community separated by wealth and walled in by language. 'It was only when I told my Portuguese in-laws about my tax situation and saw the frustration etched across their faces that I understood the unfairness,' Pitney tells me. 'My Portuguese family work longer days, earn less and are taxed more.' Even his wife, Anna, born in Portugal, had been out of the country long enough that when they moved to Lisbon in 2019 she qualified for the non-habitual residency visa and the tax break. 'You can see why those who stayed are disheartened. Anna's situation demonstrates how the Portuguese tax system rewards those who left and returned.' Foreign buyers in Lisbon are paying, on average, 82% more per property than local buyers. Local businesses have responded to the needs of the rich foreigners (and I don't mean just oligarchs, although the 4x4 Bentleys at the school gate of the international school my son attended for a couple of years indicate that they are here). Lisbon has been gentrified by people who work for advertising agencies and insurance companies. Even those who earn an average day rate for the design industry in the UK could, until recently, live lavish lives here. The expected has happened: traditional cafes (or tascas), where you could knock back a 60-cent coffee, transform into gleaming marble brunch spots; branded yoga studios sit smugly on the ground level of newly renovated buildings; and English-speaking therapy rooms hide behind discreet signage in areas populated by remote workers. 'The idea behind the visas is to create resident consumers, and the hope is this money will enrich the social fabric of the city,' explains Mancinelli. But what I see is foreigners spending money with other foreigners. And now I, too, have a business here. In 2023, my partner and I opened a small English-language bookshop on a quiet cobbled street. For a time, the shop felt like a corrective to the remoteness of expat life – I was off the screen, chatting to locals, I had real-life work colleagues (we employ five people: two Portuguese, one American-Portuguese, two British). But still, in the morning, before I take the key from my bag to open the stubborn but beautiful old doors, it's too easy to grab coffee from a French-owned bakery and book a class at the American-owned yoga studio. Discussions on how to be a good foreigner dominate conversation with other remote workers: learn the language, employ locals, 'integrate', spend locally. And, though I realise money spent here circulates here, there is a question that must be asked: is the money reaching local communities? Some people argue yes. Chris Jones founded Paco, a company that offers executive assistance for foreign arrivals, who from €329 a month (for 10 hours of support) will coordinate home repairs, book cleaners, find nannies, pay your utility bills and assist with property viewings. 'When I arrived here in 2019 there were roughly 450,000 foreign-born residents in the country,' Jones says. 'Today there are 1.5 million. Paco has risen from a need.' And, he is keen to tell me: 'Through the company's success we have provided good, above-market salaries for many young Portuguese staff – three of whom recently have managed to buy houses, with the combination of our wages and a government programme supporting Portuguese youth to get on to the property ladder.' But there remains a sentiment among foreigners that the Portuguese workforce is a 'cheaper' alternative. Alex Couto, author of the book Nova Lisboa (New Lisbon), which looks at the rapid gentrification of the city, says: 'Look, I come at this topic from the left, and, though I wrote a book criticising it, I will also defend gentrification. My day rate [as a copywriter] has risen, there are more cultural institutions opening.' But, he warns: 'There is something that pisses me off, when an expat in Portugal offers me a low day rate just because I am Portuguese. I'm living in the same place they are, and don't the Portuguese deserve lifestyle expectations, too?' As the city changes, shop by shop, dollar by dollar, there is understandable anger. On 5 July, a protest was held outside a building recently bought by a German hotelier. After serving an eviction notice to the ground‑floor tenants – one of the city's oldest establishments, a Ginjinha shop selling traditional Portuguese liqueur – the hotelier allegedly planned to replace it with a Disneyfied version owned by the hotel itself. As Dave Cook, an anthropologist at UCL, says: 'If you go to a place to take advantage of a lower cost of living, you are hacking inequalities, and there will be pushback, politically.' Though I have heard a recent Los Angeles transplant call a €1,800-a-month rental price 'cute', it's now not only the locals who are being priced out. I meet remote workers all the time who are struggling. They've exiled themselves from their healthcare and state social systems, have no job security, no HR, no industry career ladder to climb. And, more and more, they are finding they have been gentrified out of the neighbourhoods they want to live in. 'Work is becoming more precarious,' Mancinelli warns. 'With AI, new political borders, and people risking their social security entitlement by moving abroad, we don't know what is to come for the remote, knowledge-based worker.' It's not any easier for individuals setting up small physical businesses, either. And, unlike me, not everyone is here just because. Looking for safety from a politically tumultuous Ethiopia, Hiwote Getaneh, a podcast producer for Esther Perel and the New York Times, moved to the US in 2003. Getaneh went on to study at Virginia Tech and was in her dorm, sleeping, in April 2007 when a gunman started a shooting spree that killed 32 people two floors below her. After the pandemic, with 'the US in chaos', and having grown up speaking Portuguese, Lisbon seemed an obvious – and safe – place to go. 'I came over in May 2021 and was connected to the black expat community here,' she says. 'I was happier here, my nervous system calmed and so I thought, why not apply for the visa?' Now, as a naturalised US citizen, Getaneh is scared of US border control confiscating her passport should she visit. She feels she must stay, 'but with Chega in office and neo-Nazi rallies happening, I sense my safety is changing'. This past week, my WhatsApp groups shook to life with British nationals decrying the possible increase in how long you must live in Portugal to gain nationality (from five years to 10). The change, proposed by Chega, is seemingly aimed at immigrants from the global south, who in Lisbon make up the majority of Uber and delivery drivers. It's a move apparently driven by racism, and one that will hit the climate-change immigrants the hardest: those from Bangladesh, Nepal, India and Pakistan, without whom 'Portugal wouldn't have an agriculture industry,' says Nadia Sales Grade, a spokesperson for DiEM25 (Democracy in Europe Movement 2025), a political organisation criticising a Europe that is 'the result of a terrible system in which the rich are allowed to do whatever they like, while common people pay when 'whatever they like' doesn't work out'. As she explains: 'There has to be more taxation for both the corporations and those not contributing to the economy other than driving up the rent. But, more important than that, the Portuguese government needs to implement a real social housing policy and controlled rents.' She is very careful not to stir any xenophobia, even aimed at the rich expats. 'I don't blame any individual,' says Diogo Faro, a Lisbon-based comedian whose political jokes tell the gnarly story of gentrification. 'Lisbon is amazing – why wouldn't you want to live here?!' Yet, as I stand in Lisbon today, I feel terribly naive. Recently I sold a book to a young Portuguese man – about degrowth, of all things – and we spoke about the changes in Lisbon. 'The disappointment of a dream is universal,' he told me. 'Your dream is not fulfilled, yes, but mine isn't either. And the Portuguese have both the dream unfulfilled and no affordable housing.' Perhaps life should never have felt as easy as it did when I first arrived. Because, while we all agree that Portugal's tax policies need to change; that Airbnb needs policing; that the city needs more affordable housing, Lisbon has left me unmoored from real life. I keep looking around and almost wanting to tap the walls to check they are real. Everything feels surface. On a recent Saturday I went to a small food festival held at a farm an hour's drive south of Lisbon. Visually, it was unnervingly perfect, with children holding handfuls of carrots freshly plucked from the soil. Yet, even as I stood in the knee-high grass, an undeniable breeze on my skin, if I had been asked to describe the scene I would have used the words 'computer rendered'. As the day went on, I realised why. 'This farm is owned by a German creative agency,' a friend whisper-hissed over a rainbow plate of chopped vegetables. The crowd, made up almost entirely of people earning their money from abroad, were sipping natural wine, as a talk that was pitched as a conversation about farming veered into an announcement that farm plots for condos would be going up for sale. The lack of integration, driven by the self-sufficiency required of the visas, means I'm not the only remote worker feeling adrift. What happens when the shared spaces of your so-called community are sun-drenched cafes and boutique fitness studios? What does it mean to never volunteer, or spend time with an elderly person, to rarely take public transport, or read the local news? It means a disconnect from the culture that shapes daily life. In Lisbon, I can't work for a public body, I can't retrain, adopt, or write to my local politician for change. The truth is, I'm not integrated enough to give back in the same way I take. And then, last week, as tensions built, a dog visited the bookshop. Picture a cobbled Lisbon street, a curtain rippling in the breeze, revealing an arched doorway. A dog ambling along the street, stepping inside the shop, cocking its leg against a shelf of books and pissing a dark-yellow stream of urine over the hardbacks. The first time I laughed; the second time he appeared I took it as a message. Did the dog know I don't have either the confidence or the vocabulary to discuss his toilet habits with his owner, a local Portuguese man? Or maybe the dog somehow sensed my feeling that my time here might be up, that maybe it's time to move and make room for someone else.
Scottish Sun
16 hours ago
- Scottish Sun
Dark underbelly of UK's new City of Culture plagued by soaring unemployment, ‘spiced-up' druggies & ‘roaming XL Bullies'
See the top 20 areas for unemployment below DOLED OUT Dark underbelly of UK's new City of Culture plagued by soaring unemployment, 'spiced-up' druggies & 'roaming XL Bullies' Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) CLOSED shops litter the ailing high street and "spiced up" junkies stumble around like zombies or openly inject drugs in dingy doorways. Bradford - this year's UK City of Culture - has a dark underbelly of high unemployment, petty crime and illegal substance abuse. 19 A man slouches on a bench in Bradford city centre, apparently heavily intoxicated Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Two large Bully type dogs are walked across a road without leads Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Student Vanessa Soydere, 18, came to the city from Turkey 13 years ago and hopes to find work there after she qualifies Credit: NB PRESS LTD It comes after The Sun laid bare the UK's unemployment capitals, with the Labour government telling thousands of Brits: those who can work should get a job. In May, the West Yorkshire city had 26,070 people claiming unemployment benefits, a rise on not only this time last year but also the previous month. Outside of London, it's only behind Birmingham (10.6%) and Luton (7.7%) for joblessness stats. Known as the "wool capital of the world" in its Victorian boom era, it's had a sad fall from grace. Locals complain that jobs are hard to find as high street stores, banks, and pubs close. JOB CENTRE Former ventilation fitter Timmy worked on the Broadway Shopping Mall opposite the Jobcentre before he was sent to prison and lost his livelihood. 'I've gone to the Jobcentre today because I've just got out of jail and want to get back to work,' he told The Sun. 'I'm normally self-employed, I'm a skilled air conditioning ventilation fitter, but it's looking to be pretty hard finding work in Bradford at the moment. The UK's top 10 unemployment hotspots This data, compiled by the ONS, shows the percentage of people in the Claimant Count for unitary and local authorities in the UK. The Claimant Count refers to the number of people claiming unemployment-related benefits, primarily Jobseeker's Allowance and Universal Credit, who are required to seek work. Birmingham (10.6%) Newham (8.5%) Barking and Dagenham (8.5%) Haringey (8.2) Brent (8.2%) Enfield (7.8%) Luton (7.7%) Bradford (7.5%) Hackney (7.5%) Waltham Forest (7.4%) Lewisham (7.3%) Wolverhampton (7.3%) Ealing (7.2%) Sandwell (7.2%) Tower Hamlets (7.2%) Oldham 7.0 % Croydon (6.9%) Slough (6.6%) Redbridge (6.5%) Lambeth (6.5%) 'Most of my work would be away from the city anyway. I've got all my tickets, fork-lift licence, driving licence, wagon driving licence, etc. 'I'm obviously looking for work but it is not easy. 'Them lot in the Jobcentre are offering jobs on basic wages in factories and stuff, but I'm skilled and I have a trade.' More than 1 MILLION migrants are claiming Universal Credit in Britain – with majority unemployed Unemployment in Bradford represents a 7.5 per cent rate, according to the latest figures. That is an increase of 230 claimants compared to the previous month and 420 compared to May 2024. The UK unemployment rate for people aged 16+ was 4.7 per cent in March-May 2025, according to the Office for National Statistics. Darley Street Market A recent boon for Bradford is the state-of-the art Darley Street Market, which opened its doors last weekend. The new market was buzzing with vendors and customers alike during The Sun's visit, and it had a vibrant atmosphere. It also has provided work for many Bradfordians, including Demi-Leigh Turner, 24, who is delighted to be behind the counter at Jake's Bakehouse in the market having been unemployed prior to its opening. 'It's brilliant to be working there and we are really busy,' said Demi-Leigh. 'It has been hard work, there is a lot of footfall at the market, but I'm loving it. 19 The new Darley Street Market opened this month Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Demi Leigh Turner works at the market and praised the opportunities there Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 There a multiple vacant business premises in the city centre Credit: NB PRESS LTD 'This is a real success story for Bradford. Everybody in there is happy.' However, just outside the market on a street bench on Darley Street was a "spiced-up" man in a drugged-up stupor, making an upsetting and unnerving sight for shoppers and parents with young children. Up the road, towards the old Oastler Shopping Centre and Market, which is now shuttered up due to the new relocation, there are down-and-outs hanging around. Two scruffy and skeletal men were wandering the streets, roll-up in hand and accompanied by a pair of XL bully-type dogs, off their leash. Another seemingly homeless guy was trying to flog a TV to passers-by. Bradford as City of Culture 2025 Bradford was named the UK City of Culture for 2025 due to its rich cultural heritage, diverse communities and innovative spirit. The designation was given by the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport. It means the West Yorkshire city gains access to funding to improve its infrastructure and arts facilities, and will continue to host events until the end of the year. Bradford won their bid in May 2022, beating County Durham, Southampton and Wrexham County Borough. More than a million people have engaged with the city's Culture projects so far this year, according to organisers. Its outdoor opening ceremony featured a performance by magician Stephen Frayne. The UK City of Culture programme began in 2013. Approaching our reporter with the screen in his arms, he asked for £10 for the goods. Beggers linger at traffic lights on busy junctions intimidating waiting motorists into handing over cash. And junkies openly take drugs in dingy shop doorways and litter-strewn alleyways before crashing out on benches or seeking out another store to shoplift. On Kirkgate, a once bustling shopping street, numerous loafers were hanging about swigging booze from cans and shouting at each other. One man had emptied the industrial bin beside the British Heart Foundation charity store and was messily rummaging through its contents. 19 A group of people drink alcohol Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Locals say the alcohol and drug problem in the city centre is getting worse Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Locals say they can't find work with businesses closing down Credit: NB PRESS LTD A charity shop volunteer said:'He doesn't care if he is making a mess. He is often doing this to look for things to sell on to buy drugs. 'He is very aggressive on some days. 'As soon as we put the bins out he is at them. He's after the coat hangers, they might fetch him a few quid." There was a distinct absence of any police officers patrolling the city centre. Cops raid large cannabis farm in landmark building By Mark Lister POLICE found a large cannabis farm at a landmark Bradford city centre building over the weekend. West Yorkshire Police were called to reports of a burglary at Sunwin House on Sunday. On arrival, a large cannabis farm was found. A 36-year-old man, who was arrested on suspicion of producing a controlled drug of class B, remains in police custody. Enquiries remain ongoing at the scene. Police attention has been focused on the side of the building, near Goit Side, with several force vehicles and an extensive cordon in place. A spokesperson for West Yorkshire Police said: "A 36-year-old man has been arrested on suspicion of producing a controlled drug of class B, he remains in police custody at this time. "Police were called to reports of a burglary on Sunbridge Road. "On arrival, officers located a large cannabis farm. Enquiries remain ongoing at the scene." Sunwin House dates back to the 1930s, when it was constructed as a Co-operative emporium. More recently, it was used as a TJ Hughes department store and awarded a Grade II listing for its architectural significance. Since TJ Hughes shut its doors 15 years ago, the building has been mainly empty. But some locals still like the place. Former squaddie Jonny James, 32, was born and bred in Bradford and described living there as 'bloody brilliant'. 'I can't work at the moment though, due to my disability,' he says brandishing his badly scarred left arm which he damaged in a car crash. 'Before the accident I was in the Army, Royal Artillery. I'm on the sick now though. 'I don't mind living in Bradford, it has its good and bad sides, like a lot of places. 19 The shutdown Wilko store is among the major franchises having left the city Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 A man searches through litter from a large industrial bin Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Many residents say the city is rundown and there are few jobs to be had Credit: NB PRESS LTD 'I love the place because of the people.' Student Madison Kirby, 16, said: "There are not many opportunities for employment in the city centre as all the shops are shutting down. 'There are too many people and not enough jobs in Bradford.' Another student Vanessa Soydere, 18, came to the city from Turkey 13 years ago. 'I hope to find work in Bradford when I have finished my studies,' she said. 'Coming from Turkey to Bradford was obviously a bit different, but I've got used to it now. 'There are obviously some things that go on which are not nice and you do see some sights.' The Sun has approached Bradford City Council for comment. 19 Bradford is this year's city of culture, meaning it has access to extra funding to improve infrastructure Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 A beggar approaches motorists at traffic lights Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Student Madison Kirby, 16, said there are not many opportunities for employment in the city centre as all the shops are shutting down Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Parts of the city centre are very rundown Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Former squaddie Jonny James, 32, was born and bred in Bradford but is currently unable to work due to disability Credit: NB PRESS LTD 19 Former ventilation fitter Timmy Firth has just come out of prison and is looking for work Credit: NB PRESS LTD
The Sun
16 hours ago
- The Sun
Full list of benefits that WILL qualify for £300 energy bill support
MILLIONS of pensioners are set to receive energy bill help worth up to £300. The Winter Fuel Payment will be issued to nine million people this winter to cover the cost of gas and electric over the colder months. 1 The payment is worth up to £300 and most receive it automatically. Eligibility for the Winter Fuel Payment was means-tested in 2024/25 meaning only those on certain benefits received it. However, the government has since u-turned and it will now be paid to individuals with a yearly income of £35,000 or less. Those on certain benefits will also qualify this year when they didn't in 2024/25. This is the full list of benefits that qualifies you, and means you will receive the payment automatically: State Pension Pension Credit Universal Credit Attendance Allowance Personal Independence Payment (PIP) Carer's Allowance Disability Living Allowance (DLA) Income Support income-related Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) income-based Jobseeker's Allowance (JSA) awards from the War Pensions Scheme Industrial Injuries Disablement Benefit Incapacity Benefit Industrial Death Benefit If you do not get any of these, you will need to claim your Winter Fuel Payment if either you've not had one before, or you've deferred your State Pension since your last Winter Fuel Payment. Who exactly is eligible and how much will I get? You can get a Winter Fuel Payment if you were born before September 22, 1959, and live in England and Wales. The amount you will receive is based on when you were born and your circumstances, including what benefits you are on, between September 15 and September 21 this year. This is known as the "qualifying week". If you live alone or no one you live with is eligible for the Winter Fuel Payment you will get either: £200, if you were born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £300, if you were born before 22 September 1945 If you live with someone else who's eligible for the Winter Fuel Payment and are not on benefits you will get a payment of: £100, if you and the person you live with were both born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £100, if you were born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 but the person you live with was born before 22 September 1945 £200, if you were born before 22 September 1945 but the person you live with was born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £150, if you and the person you live with were born before 22 September 1945 If you and your partner jointly claim one of the following benefits, you will receive a different amount: Pension Credit, Universal Credit, income-based Jobseeker's Allowance (JSA), income-related Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) and Income Support. If you are on one of these benefits, one of you will get a payment of either: £200 if both of you were born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £300 if one or both of you were born before 22 September 1945 The payment will be made into the bank account your benefits are usually paid into. If you get any of the same above benefits, but not as part of a joint claim, you'll get a payment of either: £200 if you were born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £300 if you were born before 22 September 1945 However, in all the above cases, if your taxable income is more than £35,000, your Winter Fuel Payment will be taken back either through PAYE or through Self Assessment. If you are living in a care home will get either: £100, if you were born between 22 September 1945 and 21 September 1959 £150, if you were born before 22 September 1945 How to claim Anyone who has to claim the Winter Fuel Payment and is doing it by post can do so from September 15. Anyone claiming by phone can call up from October 13. The ultimate deadline to claim for this winter is March 31, 2026. More details on how to claim can be found via Most Winter Fuel Payments are made in November or December. If you are eligible, you should receive a letter in October or November telling you how much you're in line to get. If you don't receive one by January 28, 2026, contact the Winter Fuel Payment Centre on 0800 731 0160.
