Treasury 'failed in duty of care' to employee who died after disciplinary meeting

Chloe Moffat, 26, died by suicide on May 20, 2025, the day after a disciplinary meeting with Treasury managers where she was accused of sharing confidential information.
There was no safeguarding, there was no support during or after that meeting
David Moffat describes the Treasury's failure to protect his daughter during and after the disciplinary meeting that preceded her death.
Mark

Why does it matter that there were two managers in the room instead of one?

Mimi

Because Chloe immediately understood it signaled something serious was about to happen. She wasn't prepared. She had no support with her. And from that moment on, she was off-balance—asking for help that was denied.

Mark

The policy question seems crucial. The Treasury had written rules about what happens in these situations?

Mimi

Yes. Their own policy said that if the allegations were proven, a written warning was the likely outcome. Not dismissal. But they never told her that. She spent the meeting terrified she was about to lose her job, when the policy itself suggested otherwise.

Mark

And they locked her out of her email immediately after?

Mimi

Right after the meeting ended. It's the kind of thing that might make sense in some corporate security context, but in this case it was another shock. Another signal that something catastrophic was happening.

Mark

What did the coroner actually conclude?

Mimi

That the meeting materially contributed to her death. And that the Treasury failed to follow its own procedures. Those aren't abstract findings—they're saying the department's actions and omissions directly led to what happened.

Mark

Has the Treasury acknowledged responsibility?

Mimi

They've expressed sympathy and committed to learning lessons. But her father was clear: they haven't yet taken full responsibility. There's a difference between saying you're sorry and saying you failed in your duty of care.

Mark

What does the family want now?

Mimi

Accountability. Redress. And assurance that this won't happen to someone else. They're not certain about legal action, but they're not ruling it out either. They're living with a hole in their lives and looking for meaning in preventing it from happening again.

  • A young woman walked into what she believed was a routine meeting and instead faced serious allegations, two managers, and no one in her corner — her requests for a friend's presence and basic reassurance about her future were both refused.
  • The Treasury's own disciplinary policy held the answer she was desperately seeking: dismissal was not the likely outcome — but no one in that room consulted it, leaving her in a state of acute, unnecessary uncertainty.
  • Within hours of the meeting's end, Chloe was locked out of her work systems — a procedural step that her father described as compounding the shock — and the following day she took her own life.
  • A coroner's inquest found the meeting 'materially contributed' to her death and identified the failure to apply written policy as a significant procedural breakdown, placing the institution's conduct under formal scrutiny.
  • Her father David is pushing for accountability and systemic reform, while the Treasury has acknowledged the findings and introduced changes to wellbeing procedures — though whether those changes run deep enough remains an open question.

On May 19, 2025, a 26-year-old Treasury civil servant named Chloe Moffat was called without warning into a disciplinary meeting where she was accused of sharing confidential information, denied a support person, and refused any reassurance about her job security — despite her department's own written policy indicating dismissal was unlikely. She died by suicide the following day. A coroner, ruling more than a year later, found that the meeting materially contributed to her death and that the Treasury had failed to follow its own procedures. Her story sits at the intersection of institutional duty and human fragility, asking what organisations owe to the people they hold power over in their most vulnerable moments.

Chloe Moffat was 26 years old and working as a personal assistant to a Treasury director when she was called into what she believed was a routine meeting on May 19, 2025. She quickly realised something was wrong — two managers were waiting for her. She was accused of sharing sensitive information about colleagues, allegations she denied. What followed was not just a difficult conversation, but a series of refusals: her request to have a friend present was denied, and her repeated, anxious questions about whether she would lose her job went unanswered.

What made those refusals especially significant was what the Treasury's own written disciplinary policy said. Had the allegations been proven, the likely outcome was a written warning — not dismissal. But that policy was never consulted during the meeting. The coroner who later examined the case found this to be a material failure. When the meeting ended, Chloe was locked out of her work systems. She went home. The next day, she took her own life.

At an inquest in August 2026, the coroner concluded that the disciplinary meeting had materially contributed to Chloe's death — a finding that placed the Treasury's conduct in direct relation to the loss of her life. Her father David spoke publicly about the absence of any safeguarding or support, before, during, or after the meeting, describing it as a failure of basic duty of care from an institution at the centre of British government.

The Moffats have not ruled out further legal action, but what David says he wants most is accountability and the certainty that Chloe's death will lead to genuine change. The Treasury has committed to implementing new guidance and wellbeing arrangements in response to the coroner's findings. Whether those changes will prove sufficient — and whether the department will accept fuller responsibility — remains unresolved.

Chloe Moffat walked into what she thought was a routine check-in with her line manager on the afternoon of May 19, 2025. She was 26, a personal assistant to a Treasury director, and had worked in the civil service long enough to know the rhythms of her job. What she didn't know was that a more senior manager would be in the room alongside her supervisor. "Chloe's first comment was, 'Oh, this must be serious, there's two of you here'," her father David recalled. It was the moment she understood something had gone wrong.

The meeting that followed presented her with allegations that she had shared sensitive confidential information about colleagues. She denied the charges. But what struck David most, in the aftermath, was not the accusations themselves—it was what happened when Chloe asked for basic protections. She requested that a friend be allowed to sit with her. She asked, repeatedly, whether she would lose her job. Both requests were refused. The managers would not tell her what the likely outcome would be, even as her anxiety mounted.

What neither Chloe nor her managers seemed to know was that the Treasury's own written disciplinary policy contained an answer to her unasked question. Had the allegations against her been proven, the policy made clear that the probable penalty was a written warning. Dismissal was not the expected outcome. But that policy was never consulted during the meeting. The coroner would later find that this failure to follow procedure was itself a material failure—one that left Chloe in a state of uncertainty about her future at precisely the moment she most needed clarity.

The meeting ended. Chloe was then locked out of her email account. "That was all part of the shock and awe of it all for Chloe," David said. She went home. The next day, on May 20, she took her own life.

At an inquest in August 2026, more than a year after her death, the coroner made a stark finding: the meeting between Chloe and her managers had "materially contributed" to her death. The coroner also found that the Treasury had failed to apply its own written policy—a failure that, had it been followed, might have given Chloe the reassurance she desperately sought.

Speaking to the BBC, David Moffat described the lack of support his daughter received as a failure of basic duty of care. "There was no safeguarding, there was no support during or after that meeting," he said. "It beggars belief that an organisation that is front and central in our government cannot get it right." He acknowledged that the Treasury's permanent secretary had written to him and his wife, Anne, and that they had met with him. But David was clear: the department had not yet taken full responsibility for its role in Chloe's death.

The Moffats are considering what comes next. They have not ruled out further legal action, though they remain uncertain. What they want, David said, is redress—and a commitment that the lessons from Chloe's death will be learned. "If something positive can come from this unbearable loss that we're suffering, that's all we look to achieve," he said. The Treasury, for its part, has committed to responding to the coroner's findings and has already introduced changes to its guidance, support, and wellbeing arrangements. Whether those changes will be enough to prevent another tragedy like Chloe's remains to be seen.

There wasn't any duty of care shown to Chloe by the Treasury. There was no safeguarding, there was no support during or after that meeting.
— David Moffat, Chloe's father
We will learn the lessons from this tragedy. We are working urgently to respond to the coroner's findings and we have introduced immediate changes to our guidance, support and wellbeing arrangements.
— Treasury spokesperson
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