'Labour', lobbying and the de-corporatization of society

The ‘Labour’ party are a bunch of corporate lobbyists with a political party attached. And that includes its white knight, Andy Burnham.

Just before Labour won the 2024 election, Rachel Reeves reassured an invited audience of leading corporate representatives that “your fingerprints are all over every one of our national missions”.

She wasn’t exaggerating.

One of those fingerprints belongs to the “Prince of Darkness” Peter Mandelson, now charged with “misconduct in public office” stemming from his best buddy relationship with sex offender, Jeffrey Epstein. In 2010 he co-founded the now defunct lobbying firm Global Counsel. The aim was to exploit his seminal place in the modern Labour party and help corporations “see opportunities in politics, regulation and public policy”.

A Freedom of Information request from journalist Solomon Hughes reveals that Global Counsel was still hosting soirees and breakfasts for its business clients and representatives of the UK government less than a year ago.

Attendees on the lookout for “opportunities” included financial services behemoth JP Morgan and drugs giant GSK (formerly GlaxoSmithKline). Among the subjects discussed was NHS drug pricing.

Curiously, a few months later – in December 2025 – the government announced a deal with the US over how much the NHS pays for pharmaceuticals (bought mainly, though not exclusively, from American corporations). The agreement – intended to avert the axe of Donald Trump’s sanctions – saw the NHS committed to paying 25% more for new medicines and to increase what it shells out for existing drugs.

Under its terms, the NHS is also compelled to double its spending on new medicines from 0.3% to 0.6% of GDP by 2035.

It is estimated the cost will come to £64 billion.

Inevitably, given the government’s “iron-clad” commitment to fiscal rules, the money will be diverted from patient care. According to one health economist – Karl Claxton who led a research term at York University to model potential outcomes – by 2033 excess deaths as a result of the deal will be greater than in the first two years of Covid.

“The government faced a clear choice,” Claxton said, “either back the NHS and adult social care and stand up to these pressures, or don’t. And it decided not to.”

In another strange coincidence, in November 2025, JP Morgan announced plans to build a skyscraper new HQ in Canary Wharf. The decision owed a lot to the deal, negotiated by the Treasury and Tower Hamlets council, to provide the bank (which is clearly short of cash) with a 100% discount on business rates.

Also oiling the wheels was Rachel Reeves’s commitment not to increase taxes on banks in her autumn budget (just on everyone else) following a meeting in Number 11 with Goldman Sachs.

It wasn’t thought necessary to call in a police forensic team to sweep the room for fingerprints.

The lobbying impulse is so deeply ingrained in the ‘Labour’ party that glaring conflicts of interest pass without a second look. Mandelson was UK Ambassador to the US during the NHS drug pricing negotiations. All through this time, he remained president of Global Counsel which represented GSK and JP Morgan. His firm actually undertook research for the Association of the British Pharmaceutical Industry “making the case for many of the changes ultimately secured in the deal”.

According to a whistleblower, Mandelson vetted Labour candidates for the 2024 General Election. Just to make doubly sure no unsavoury characters slipped through the net.

Doubtless the memory of Jeremy Corbyn gave him the jitters but he needn’t have been so careful. Research before the election was called revealed that 10% of confirmed Labour candidates were employed as corporate lobbyists and communication advisors. And according to an article in The Times, a third of actually elected Labour MPs have a background in lobbying. “It was”, said the author, “the most common past job for an MP – far outstripping trade unions, teachers or doctors”.

And if they manage to climb a few rungs up the greasy pole, they are sure to run into former colleagues. Secondees from lobbying firms work with senior Labour ministers such as Rachel Reeves and Jonathan Reynolds. Mandelson’s Global Counsel spent £36,000 paying for a staff member to work with former Treasury minister Tulip Siddiq for a year.

When the former Scottish Labour leader, Jim Murphy, (the electoral mastermind oversaw Labour haemorrhaging 40 seats in Scotland in the 2015 GE), predicted that Starmer’s government would be “the first private sector government in Labour history”, he was, if you’ll excuse the pun, right on the money.

Of course, Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham wants to return to Parliament, oust Sir Kier, and “change” Labour (a word you may have heard somewhere before).

The fact that the lying/snooping Labour Together faction that put Starmer in power in the first place are the very people that are beating out the path for Burnham to return to Parliament should invoke a healthy degree of scepticism.

Burnham has already rowed back on his lament that Britain is “in hock to the bond markets”, promising to stick to Reeves’s fiscal rules and replacing rhetoric about renationalising utilities with merely instituting ‘stronger public control’.

But even if Burnham was sincere in wanting to send the lobbyists scuttling away from the husk that remains of the ‘Labour’ party, it would take a lot more than the good vibes he is promising to do it – for Labour not to roll over but, in the words of Karl Claxton, “stand up to these pressures”.

The huge increase in the amount to be paid by the NHS for branded drugs agreed to by Labour was not merely the fruit-bearing result of a concerted campaign by bands of lobbyists. It was also preceded by real-world threats to withdraw investment by pharma companies (interestingly, that weren’t all American and thus backed by Trump). What, in old-fashioned language, used to be called a ‘capital strike’. In the words of a Bureau of Investigative Journalism report:

Then, over the course of a single week in September, the dominoes began to fall. One company after another threatened to pull major UK projects: MSD scrapped a £1bn London research centre; AstraZeneca paused a £200m project in Cambridge; Eli Lilly parked a planned London lab. In response to concerns that the pharma giants had colluded in a bid to bump up drug prices, the Competition and Markets Authority said it had decided not to investigate.

A fortnight later, AstraZeneca threatened to quit the London Stock Exchange and move to the US.

In a similar vein, JP Morgan – in spite of the 100% business rates relief sweetener and the promise of no new taxes on banks – has threatened to back track on the building of its new HQ if Sir Kier is replaced by someone “hostile to banks”.

Even if the government were full of – to use Tony Blair’s phrase from 1997 – “whiter than white” individuals with impeccably sturdy backbones, they would, in all certainty, cave in to these demands, followed by an immediate impulse to reach for the shelf containing ready-made excuses about economic growth and saving jobs.

Unless they had an alternative economic strategy to hand.

The only way not to give in to this blackmail is to follow the logic (if not necessarily the publicly announced policies) of Corbynism. To set up a publicly owned drug research and production enterprise to sell at cost to the NHS, thus saving billions for patient care.

More broadly, the entire NHS needs to be renationalised and freed from incremental privatisation.

But it doesn’t end there. Profit maximising banks who, despite the events of 2008, push for renewed deregulation and new ways to be subsidised by the public need to feel the stiff breeze of competition from a publicly-owned investment and retail bank.

And the only real answer to tax havens – likened by the writer Thomas Frank to an “unseen planet” pulling politics and economics inexorably rightwards – is the withdrawal of limited liability which is granted by the state. Without the state, whom corporations incessantly lobby, they are nothing. It is their hidden Achilles’ heel.

The only way to make such a threat credible is to create publicly owned, cooperatively-run companies that can compete with shareholder-driven corporate leviathans and take their place should the latter’s legal ‘person-hood’ be rescinded. Such companies will openly and willingly pay their taxes and won’t try to financially exploit the local or central state or hollow it out through privatisation.

The fork in the road we are now facing is between shades of corporate fascism, based on deportation of immigrants, the crushing of dissent, endless deregulation, and minimal taxes for the super-rich, and something else. That something else is socialism, which will eventually dawn on people who would never think of themselves as socialists.

And You're Working for No-one but Us

 “And you’re working for no-one but me” is George Harrison’s sign off to the first song on one of the greatest British albums of all time, the Beatles’ Revolver. But compared to what follows it has always struck me as rather a damp squib – lyrically one extended whinge about how Surrey mansion dwellers pay too much in tax. I suppose to be fair to the author, Harrison was very anti-war and he objected to unwillingly paying millions in tax – at the time the top rate stood at 92.6% – so governments could bomb people.

Nonetheless it is quite sad that of all the sentiments the Beatles expressed, “in the end” it was those of Taxman that had the greatest longevity. You need a lot than love, and giving war a chance now seems to be the spirit of the age (alright that was Lennon). But thanks to Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, and the sprouting up of numerous tax havens around the world successful pop stars need no longer fret about governments getting their paws on their money.

But from the perspective of nearly sixty years, to sing “you’re working for no-one but me” with reference to His Majesty’s tax collectors seems faintly ridiculous. We’re definitely working for someone but there are people much further up the queue than HMRC. Perhaps their silhouettes need more light shone on them:

Landlords and Banks

The first thing we all need is somewhere to live. After rising above inflation for years, rents increased by 9% in 2024, the highest surge on record. The average rent now consumes over a third of renters’ income and more than half of it in London.

Though there are only 11 and half million renters in the UK, their numbers are inexorably rising. But they are still below the so-called “owner occupiers”. Except in many cases, while they occupy, they don’t own anything. The ‘owners’ are paying off a debt (which everyone calls a mortgage to avoid calling it a debt) to the actual owner of their property, usually a bank. And since interest rates have ballooned in the last few years – in the context of house prices inflating by 1,000% since the early 1980s – that debt has become much more expensive.

Banks, by the way, are sharing the pain by making record profits – HSBC amassed £24 billion in 2023, an 80% increase. This windfall results from the interest they receive on mortgage payments and loans being so much higher than the interest they pay on their savings accounts. Why this discrepancy should exist is a bit of a mystery. Theoretically, the two should cancel each other out and banks should not be laughing all the way to the bank because interest rates have been hiked. Maybe Sir Kier – who gave HSBC’s chief executive a knighthood in December – can enlighten us.

It’s good to know the people your monthly labours are paying off are having a hard time too.

Utility companies

Next on the identity parade are water and energy companies. In the past, these two public services were nationalized. But in our post-Thatcherite wasteland, sorry landscape, they are the play things of private equity firms who load the owners with debt and expect their captive customers – us in other words – to pay for the privilege of being compelled to use them. I just love the free market.

And when, as with Bulb Energy, these wealth destroyers experience liquidity problems, they can rely on the taxpayer, in the form of the government, to bail them out. Not that we have any say in the matter.

When the direct debits kick in every month, a lot of the damage to your balance is down to these two suspects. Energy bills are about 50% higher than they were pre-Covid. As with rent and mortgage payments, only in a semantic sense is this not taxation. Unless you want to live in a cave somewhere, or on the streets, you need a home and you need heating and water. Contrary to American monetarist proselytiser, Milton Friedman, we are not “free to choose”.

And it’s going to get worse. The average water bill will increase by 36% over the few years.

“If you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat,” Harrison sang in 1966. He meant, “I’ll raise the energy price cap”.

Corporations and things like eating

In common with all living beings, human beings need to consume if they want to continue living. But the cost of consumption keeps going up. If consumer inflation has fallen from its highs of a couple of years ago, that doesn’t mean prices will return to their former levels, just that they will continue to rise at a slower rate (although inflation seems going up again now anyway).

But the ever-increasing cost of essential goods is not solely due to ‘impersonal’ factors like the cost of raw materials. It is also down to the power of the huge corporations that dominate the market to increase costs above the ‘natural’ rate of inflation. For example, in the UK, “price mark ups” – price increases above the production costs to produce profit – rose from 58% in 2002 to 82% in 2020. The profits of the 350 largest companies on the London Stock Exchange have swollen by 73% since 2019.

This price gouging is symbolised by internet providers typically hiking raising annual broadband fees – now essential for doing most things in life, including work – by CPI (inflation) plus 3.9%. Why? Because they can.

What is now hitting home is that, contrary to the advertising, the Thatcherite revolution did not enthrone the consumer as king. Everyone knew that workers would have to suck it up, but the customer was felicitated. But that’s not how things have turned out. All regulators have a duty to protect the consumer but, as evidenced by the failure to compel banks to pay interest on savings in line with hikes in interest rates, this is just honoured in the breach. And with Reeves’s drive for deregulation, such a responsibility is going to become even more threadbare.

 You have to crane your neck to see the real beneficiaries.

Only in the perverse universe we now inhabit, could a privately educated ex-stockbroker who claims to be “keeping the flame of Thatcherism alive” and controls a company masquerading as a political party be the one to take advantage of this situation.

It’s enough to make you gently weep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A publicly-owned shadow economy is the only real answer to tax havens

“Tax havens on some tropical island” the writer Thomas Frank said last week, “aren’t some sideshow to western capitalism; they are a central reality. Those hidden billions are like an unseen planet whose gravity is pulling our politics and our economy always in a certain direction.”

Looked at this way, tax havens are a permanent and unalterable reminder of the impotence of governments in the face of footloose multinational corporations and the 0.001 per cent. But, in reality, their very success may be the ultimate undoing of the corporate system. They may make the creation of an alternative economy unavoidable.

To captive governments, tax havens exhibit a ghastly allure – if you aren’t in on the act, somebody else will be. To corporations in the US, a country with the highest corporate tax rate in the developed world, Britain is a tax haven. Hence, the problem of ‘inversion’ – corporations deliberately re-locating where they are legally registered to take advantage of the lower rate (currently 19% in the UK but soon to be lower). To corporations in Britain, Ireland, with its 12.5% corporate tax rate, is a tax haven. To corporations registered in Ireland, the Netherlands is a tax haven because it allows profits to be transferred at negligible cost to zero tax Bermuda, whereas Ireland imposes a high tax on such transfers.

The sobering reality is that Ireland used to have a corporate tax rate of 50% buy it makes more revenue from the current rate of 12.5% than it did when the rate was four times higher. This isn’t because the low rate is attracting actual business investment – investment is at historically low levels – but because it is stealing the tax revenue of other countries. Many corporations are legally domiciled in Dublin and pay tax there but don’t carry out any investments in Ireland.

Thus there is a competitive advantage to lowering your corporate tax rate, even while the system as a whole is gradually strangling government revenue and enshrining austerity as a permanent feature of political life. It is estimated that EU loses €350 billion to multinational tax dodging every year, while in Britain the figure is €12.7 billion; a little less than the £12 billion of social security cuts that the May government inherited from George Osborne and is still implementing.

With Donald Trump about to reduce the headline US corporate tax rate from 35% to 20% the race to the bottom will likely further intensify.

Rather than going through the motions of cracking down on tax avoidance, governments could get serious. They could close down the tax havens that are within their jurisdiction or the shell corporations that enable profits to be funnelled tax-free out of the country. They could insist that corporate tax equivalence is an integral part of any free trade deal – an agreed international band of 30-33% for example. At present, the Eurozone, as part of its Stability & Growth pact, mandates that government deficits don’t exceed 3% of GDP, whereas it leaves corporate tax rates entirely at the discretion of national governments. It’s no surprise, therefore, that six EU countries – Luxembourg, Ireland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Malta and Cyprus – are classed as tax havens.

But even if this happens, and that’s a mighty big ‘if’, it probably won’t be sufficient. There will always be loopholes that teams of lawyers can exploit and doubtless some ‘rogue states’ that will offer zero per cent corporate taxation. Therefore, in the fullness of time, governments may well be forced to consider the ultimate legal sanction – the withdrawal of corporate status. The Achilles heel (and dirty secret) of seemingly invincible multinational corporations is that they are entirely dependent – legally dependent – on the state. As Joel Bakan writes in The Corporation, “The state is the only institution in the world that can bring a corporation to life. It alone grants corporations their essential rights, such as legal personhood and limited liability, and it compels them to always put profits first … without the state, the corporation is nothing. Literally nothing.”

It has been mooted that the threat of the withdrawal of banking licenses should be invoked in order to deter major banks from facilitating tax dodging. For major corporations who routinely engage in massive tax avoidance (just look at the names that crop up in the Paradise Papers) the threat of the withdrawal of limited liability or corporate status in its entirety is probably the only thing that would make them think twice.

It will be immediately objected – and with good reason – that for the really big corporations – Facebook, Apple, Google – this is simply inconceivable. They are too powerful, and just as importantly so integral to people’s daily lives, that they are untouchable. Withdrawing Facebook’s corporate status is probably the psychic equivalent of banning coffee.

Given the terrible bind that corporate tax avoidance places governments – and by extension the public – in there is only one alternative. Publicly owned, cooperatively-run companies need to be created to, in time, compete with the behemoths. Companies that will, openly and willingly, pay their taxes and whose very existence gives credibility to the threat of withdrawing corporate status or limited liability from those that don’t.

The technologically know-how certainly exists in the public sector – many of the breakthroughs that the tech giants rely on were hatched in the public sector and gifted to them at no charge. There are already pioneers. The New Economics Foundation is piloting a ‘mutually-owned, publicly regulated’ alternative to Uber. At the last GE, the Labour party committed itself to the ‘right to own’; giving employees the right of first refusal if the company they work for is put up for sale. Community Interest Companies – for profit companies with an asset lock that commits them to working in the public interest – are growing following their creation more than a decade ago.

All this indicates that it is not utopian to think that, in time, a publicly owned ‘shadow economy’ could be a viable alternative to the corporations that dominate the intimate details of our lives. Given the implications of tax havens, they may be the only hope for a liveable world.