When's it ever going to end? We can't just keep going.
Across Britain in early 2026, more than a quarter of a million households received county court judgements for unpaid debts — a 17.5 percent rise in a single year — as energy bills climbed beyond what ordinary incomes could absorb. The surge is not merely a legal statistic but a measure of how far the cost-of-living crisis has penetrated into the lives of working families, single parents, and the chronically ill alike. When people begin borrowing on credit cards to pay for food and heat, and when courts begin formalising that failure at record rates, a society is being asked to reckon with the distance between its economic promises and its lived realities.
- Energy debt across British suppliers has reached a record £4.5 billion, with individual bills in some cases tripling within months — leaving households with no arithmetic that balances.
- 270,537 county court judgements were issued in just three months, each one a legal scar that can block access to mortgages, rentals, and basic financial services for six years.
- Debit card use fell while credit card use rose in January, revealing that millions are not cutting back on essentials — they are quietly borrowing to afford them.
- Charities that once served the elderly and the very poorest now report working families, employed single parents, and people in full-time work arriving at their doors in crisis.
- Individuals are rationing meals, selling family homes, and experiencing sustained anxiety — not as isolated misfortune, but as the predictable outcome of structural pressures without relief.
Mark Sumner stopped opening his post. He could tell from the return addresses what was inside, and each envelope tightened something in his chest. His energy bills had risen from £80 to £220 a month in a matter of months — a gap his income as a single father of two near Redditch could not bridge. When the County Court Judgement finally arrived, he described it as horrible and quite scary. He was far from alone.
In the first quarter of 2026, British courts issued 270,537 new CCJs — a 17.5 percent increase on the previous year — as energy debt across the country reached a record £4.5 billion. Mark had already begun using a credit card for everyday spending, visited a food bank, and ultimately sold his family home to clear what he owed. The family moved into social housing, and with charity support their situation steadied — but the worry did not leave. Energy bills consume a third of his income; rent takes half. The question he keeps asking is when it will ever end.
The data reflects what individuals are living. In January alone, debit transactions fell 3.5 percent while credit card use rose 3.6 percent — not a sign that people are spending less, but that they are borrowing more to cover the basics. Jane, a Coventry woman managing arthritis and diabetes on disability benefits, owes £800 to her energy supplier and eats one meal a day. She buys supermarket gift cards to impose limits on herself, because the anxiety of a debit card transaction she cannot afford has become unbearable.
Rachel Jones of Act on Energy in the West Midlands, which has supported Mark and many others, says energy debt is rarely the whole picture. Behind it sit rent arrears, unpaid insurance, food insecurity, and a deepening reliance on credit. Her organisation once worked mainly with older people and those on the lowest incomes. That has changed. Working families, employed single people, households that were managing — all are now arriving in crisis.
A CCJ lodges on a credit file for six years, closing doors to mortgages, rental agreements, and even mobile phone contracts. Chris Dick of the Registry Trust describes the surge as evidence of sustained household pressure that policy has not yet relieved — a diagnostic signal pointing toward problems that require structural answers. For those receiving the letters, however, the numbers are not diagnostic. They are the sound of an envelope landing on a mat that no one wants to open.
Mark Sumner stopped opening his mail. The envelopes came regularly—he could tell by the return address who was sending them—and each one made his stomach tighten. His energy bills had climbed from £80 a month to £220 in the space of a few months, and the gap between what he earned and what he owed had become impossible to close. A single father of two teenage boys living near Redditch, he had been managing household expenses for years, but this was different. This was the moment everything broke.
When the County Court Judgement arrived—a legal order forcing him to pay what he owed—it felt, as he describes it, horrible and quite scary. He was not alone. In the first three months of 2026, courts issued 270,537 new CCJs, a jump of 17.5 percent from the same period the year before. The Registry Trust, which maintains the official register of these judgements, released the figures as energy debt across Britain reached a record high of more than £4.5 billion.
Mark's story is one thread in a much larger pattern of financial strain. He had started using a credit card to cover everyday spending. He used a food bank. Eventually, he sold his family home to settle what he owed. The family moved into social housing, and with help from a local charity, their situation stabilized—but the anxiety lingers. He worries about what comes next, about energy prices climbing again, about the math that no longer works: energy bills taking a third of his income, rent taking half, leaving almost nothing for everything else.
The data tells a parallel story. In January alone, debit card transactions fell by 3.5 percent while credit card transactions rose by 3.6 percent. People are not spending less; they are borrowing more to pay for the basics. Jane, a woman in Coventry with arthritis and diabetes, receives disability benefits and universal credit but owes £800 to her energy supplier. She counts pennies obsessively. She eats one meal a day because two or three feels impossible. She buys supermarket gift cards to force herself to stop spending, because handing over a debit card and worrying about the cost later is a trap she cannot afford.
Rachel Jones runs Act on Energy, an advice organization in the West Midlands that has been helping Mark and others like him. She says energy debt is rarely the whole story. Behind it sits mortgage debt, rent arrears, unpaid insurance, food insecurity, and a reliance on credit that has become the only way people can survive month to month. The organization used to work mainly with older people and those on the lowest incomes. That has changed. "It is across the board that people are struggling," Jones says. "We're seeing families, working families, single people that are working, all struggling with energy debt."
A CCJ is a court order issued when someone fails to repay money they owe. It can be filed on a credit report for six years, making it nearly impossible to get a mortgage, a credit card, a rental lease, or even a mobile phone contract. The damage is long-lasting. If the debt is paid within a month, the judgement can be removed. If it is paid later, the record stays, marked as settled but still visible—a permanent note of financial failure.
Chris Dick, chief executive of the Registry Trust, frames the surge in CCJs as evidence of something larger: sustained pressure on household finances that policy and regulation have not yet relieved. The numbers are a diagnostic tool, he suggests, pointing to systemic problems that require systemic solutions. But for Mark and Jane and thousands of others, the numbers are lived experience—the moment a letter arrives that you do not want to open, the choice between eating twice a day or once, the sale of a home, the slow erosion of stability. The question Mark asks—"When's it ever going to end?"—hangs unanswered.
Citações Notáveis
There were letters I didn't want to open because you could tell by the front of the envelope exactly who it might be.— Mark Sumner, single father facing energy debt
It is across the board that people are struggling. We're seeing families, working families, single people that are working, all struggling with energy debt.— Rachel Jones, chief executive of Act on Energy
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does a County Court Judgement matter so much? It's a legal document, but what does it actually do to someone's life?
It follows you. For six years it sits on your credit report like a mark. You can't get a mortgage. You can't get a decent credit card. You can't lease a flat. It's not just about the debt itself—it's about being locked out of the normal ways people build stability.
But Mark sold his house. Didn't that solve the problem?
It solved the immediate debt. But now he's in social housing, and the underlying pressure hasn't changed. Energy bills are still high. Rent is still half his income. He's just moved the problem around, not fixed it.
The data shows credit card use is up while debit card use is down. That seems like people are choosing to borrow. Why would they do that?
They're not choosing it the way you mean. They're choosing it because they have no other option. When your bills exceed your income, you borrow to survive. It's not a choice—it's necessity wearing the mask of choice.
Jane is on benefits. How is she supposed to pay £800 in energy debt when she's rationing meals?
She isn't. That's the point. The system assumes she can, but she can't. So she stays in debt, the CCJ stays on her record, and the next time she needs credit—for an emergency, for anything—it's harder to get. The debt becomes permanent.
What would actually fix this?
That's the question nobody's answering. You could cap energy prices. You could increase benefits. You could forgive some of the debt. But right now, the policy response hasn't matched the scale of the problem. People are borrowing to survive, and that's not sustainable.