What tells you most about a society is how it treats its poor and vulnerable, the UN special rapporteur on poverty and human rights, Philip Alston, told a packed public meeting held in the UK’s poorest neighbourhood on Sunday.

He said a wealthy country could decide to help all those who hit hard times, ensure that they don’t slip through the net and are able to live a life of dignity: “It’s a political choice.”

Alston was in Jaywick, a tiny village by the sea in the south-east corner of Essex. It has found itself at the top of official indices of deprivation since 2010, and in countless articles and TV documentaries has come to symbolise the kind of bleak and gaudy poverty fuelled by chronic economic neglect and social breakdown.

The UN rapporteur heard an hour of often moving testimonies from local people describing their stories of being pitched into hardship and despair through what Alston called the “human condition”: best-laid plans derailed by unexpected life-changing events such as serious illness, job loss or marriage breakdown.

The clear message from this proudly patriotic area, with its Conservative-run council and Tory MP, was that in an age of austerity and spending cuts, the state was choosing not to help; instead it was stealthily withdrawing and casting people adrift with only an overstretched voluntary and charity sector to support them.

Philip Alston said countries can ensure that people don’t slip through the net and are able to live a life of dignity. Photograph: Murdo MacLeod/The Guardian

Several themes resurfaced throughout: the stress and humiliation of poverty and debt, the loneliness and feelings of worthlessness that brought on suicidal thoughts and the “hostile environment” of the benefits system and bureaucratic nightmare of universal credit.

Erin, a former journalist from Colchester, described how birth defects had triggered a neurological collapse at the age of 30, a crisis that had rapidly escalated to the point where she and her family, once comfortably off, were now at risk of becoming destitute. “Suddenly we were not a two-income middle-class family, we were living on disability benefit.”

Her partner had to give up his job as an NHS manager to care for her full-time. Then they were told by their landlord that he wanted them out in eight weeks as he needed to sell the house. Twelve years of paying rent on time counted for nothing: as soon as estate agents discovered they were on disability benefits they refused to even consider letting to them. “I do not know where I will be putting my 12-year-old to bed soon. Will we be made homeless, because of my birth defects?” she told the meeting.

“We have paid our taxes, we are hard workers, we are active in the community ... and we face the real prospect of being made homeless.”

Steve, a former jobcentre worker, told how he was driven to the brink by the stress of living on the breadline and being unable to provide for his family. He ran up debt and they became reliant on handouts and food banks. At one point he felt so despairing he considered stepping in front of a speeding car. “I thought, if I were to die no-one would miss me.”

Rob, a nurse from Clacton, had been struck by chronic illness and was on long-term sickness benefit. He spoke of the “failing” disability system. He had been found “fit for work” by an official benefits assessor, despite presenting evidence from his GP and hospital consultant that he was unable to. Subsequently he was told he had to re-apply for his disability benefits. The claim took seven weeks to be processed, leaving him without any income. He had to rely on friends for handouts, and made trips to the food bank. “It makes you feel worthless. The whole thing is a disgrace.”

Alston told the meeting the testimonies reflected those he had heard throughout his two-week tour. Last week he visited Newcastle, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Cardiff, Belfast and Bristol. His tour continues on Monday in London. On Friday he will issue his interim report on how far the UK government is meeting its international human rights commitments on the right to housing, food and a decent standard of living. Earlier, Alston had met the Rev Sean Fountain, minister at Pier Avenue Baptist church in Clacton, a few miles up the coast from Jaywick. “People are in crisis,” Fountain said, “and there is very little in the way of support.”

Faith and community groups were picking up the pieces as local government, schools, and policing budgets shrank, he said. Volunteers from his church ran a drop-in centre, a small homeless project, and helped run a food bank. But in the face of rising poverty, homelessness and youth crime, it sometimes felt like an unequal battle. He said they got no financial help from the council “and there are only so many volunteers to go round”.

Giles Watling, the Conservative MP for Clacton, held a private meeting with Alston on Sunday. His message was that places like Jaywick were “on the up” and that recent investment in roads, housing and drains had “changed the place dramatically”. Asked by the Guardian whether he thought austerity was over, he replied: “There’s light at the end of the tunnel. But you can’t just turn it off like a switch.”

Fountain is not so sure that things will get better. “The government has not been interested in the community. They have been obsessed by the Brexit agenda and they have taken their eyes off what’s happening to ordinary people.”