It all started so nobly. The Motability scheme was set up to help people with serious mobility impairments — those who genuinely couldn’t get around without a vehicle. A simple, compassionate concept: if your disability makes life harder, the state can step in to keep you mobile and independent. For almost 50 years, what made it remarkable was precisely how unremarkable it was.
But as the old saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions — or in this case, the road to bankruptcy is full of taxpayer-subsidised BMWs.
Because what was once a targeted support scheme for the genuinely disabled has ballooned into something unrecognisable. Last year alone, a record 815,000 people made use of the scheme — that’s 170,000 more than the year before. Thanks to data crunched by the TaxPayers’ Alliance, we now know what’s fuelling it.
For context, in order to get a Motability car, you need to be on the enhanced rate of the Personal Independence Payment (PIP). It’s meant to be reserved for those with the most serious needs. However, according to our analysis, the number of people receiving this enhanced rate has exploded by 439 per cent since 2016. That’s over 544,000 more people now eligible for a subsidised vehicle than just eight years ago. By comparison, standard PIP claims have risen by 270 per cent. The enhanced rate is rocketing.
But what’s really driving this surge isn’t rising physical disability. It’s the dramatic increase in people being awarded the enhanced rate of PIP for conditions like ADHD and autism — conditions not traditionally associated with mobility problems.
In 2016, just over 2,300 people qualified for a Motability car on the basis of ADHD. Now it’s more than 35,000 – that’s a 1,396 per cent increase. For people aged 35 to 39, the figure is even more jaw-dropping — up 6,000 per cent.
Autism-linked eligibility tells a similar story. It’s up 703 per cent since 2016, with the biggest spike again in that 35–39 age bracket — a 1,746 per cent increase. Either Britain’s suddenly been gripped by a diagnostic revolution, or the bar for “severe mobility impairment” has been quietly lowered to ankle height.
Now part of this spike comes from the shift of people from the Disability Living Allowance onto PIP, with the former benefit being phased out. But questions will be asked about why ADHD should entitle you to this scheme in the first place — and why 9 in 10 motability cars are sold unaltered.
What’s clear is that Motability is no longer a lifeline for the most vulnerable. It’s becoming a mainstream perk — one that taxpayers are expected to fund without question.
And fund it we do. Motability is technically run by a charity, Motability Operations, but don’t picture some dusty office and a few Vauxhalls. Last year, it turned over £7 billion and sits on a £4 billion surplus. That’s more cash than many FTSE 250 companies.
That money doesn’t come from nowhere. It flows from the PIP system — and that means it’s ultimately funded by taxpayers. It benefits from exemptions to vehicle excise duty, insurance premium tax and VAT So while your council tax goes up, NHS waits lengthen, and the roads resemble the lunar surface, someone else is cruising around in a brand-new car courtesy of the state.
And it’s not just mental health conditions that are enabling people to claim the enhanced rate of PIP. Claimants citing depression have a 51 per cent success rate for PIP. Agoraphobia? 66 per cent. And, yes, even bedwetting is on the list, with a 35 per cent success rate.
Even more astonishingly, Motability has become one of the UK’s largest buyers of electric vehicles, accounting for around 20 per cent of all new car sales. So now, as a taxpayer, you’re not only funding someone else’s motor — you’re being forced to bankroll the green transition, whether you like it or not. It’s EV evangelism by stealth.
So how did we get here?
As Sam Ashworth Hayes wrote in The Telegraph, it’s clear a lot of the fault can be laid at the feet of the Covid-19 pandemic. As he points out, Covid didn’t just change how we worked. It changed how we saw the state. Millions of people who’d never been near a benefits form were suddenly on furlough, grants, and bounce-back loans. The stigma of claiming vanished. And once people got a taste for what was available, they didn’t stop. In short, as Hayes puts it “exposure to the welfare system has the effect of increasing future use”.
That cultural shift collided with a collapsing assessment process. Pre-Covid, 80 per cent of PIP assessments were done face-to-face. There was scrutiny. There were questions. Now? Just 2 per cent happen in person. The rest are done over the phone or Zoom, where claims that might once have raised an eyebrow now glide through with a nod and a laptop. It’s welfare by webcam.
And into that vacuum stepped a new generation of opportunists: the “sickfluencers.” TikTok stars who post smug videos showing off their taxpayer-funded cars and how to game the system. Some even offer tutorials on how to phrase your PIP answers to unlock a Motability vehicle. What used to be a benefit is now advertised as a lifestyle.
It’s not about independence anymore — it’s about entitlement
To be clear, this isn’t about denying support to those in genuine need. There are people for whom this scheme is life-changing — and rightly so. But they’re now being drowned out by a rising tide of questionable claims. The purpose of the scheme has been lost.
Motability was meant to help those with severe, often visible, physical impairments. It’s now handing out subsidised vehicles for conditions that, however valid, shouldn’t justify a subsidised electric BMW. It’s not about independence anymore — it’s about entitlement.
So what’s to be done? First, bring back face-to-face assessments. The Zoom era has made it far too easy to coast through the system unchallenged. Second, tighten up the eligibility criteria so that only those with genuine, mobility-limiting conditions can qualify. And thirdly, restore the principle that Motability is a targeted scheme — not a catch-all perk for anyone who ticks the right box. It was meant to help those with serious physical mobility issues, not become a backdoor EV lease.
Of course, that would require political courage. But until ministers find some, the message to taxpayers couldn’t be clearer: buckle up — you’re paying for this ride, whether you’re in the driver’s seat or not.
