A RACING PETITION, OZZY’S AIRPORT AND THE BHA’S DIZZY DASH FOR NOWHERE

Imagine you’re drowning. Rather than throwing you a lifebuoy, your mates start a petition asking the government to "reconsider the water." That’s roughly where British racing finds itself with the #AxeTheRacingTax campaign. The sport is on the ropes, gasping for air, and the cavalry arrives in the form of a Google Doc and a hashtag.

Yes, another bloody petition. The modern equivalent of shouting into a filing cabinet and expecting policy to change. Racing fans are being asked to digitally beg the Government not to slap a new tax on betting—one that will strip the sport of £66 million a year, decimate prize money, and finish off half the jobs in the paddock quicker than a dodgy lasagne.

And what's worse? If this petition fails to catch fire, it doesn’t just prove ineffective. It becomes dangerous. A failed petition isn’t neutral—it’s confirmation, to Whitehall and every penny-pinching MP within a mile of a spreadsheet, that racing and gambling are fringe pursuits, niche hobbies of tweedy weirdos and gambling addicts. “Look,” they’ll say, “we gave them a chance to protest, and they barely turned up.”

Has the BHA thought of that one?

More chance of landing at Ozzy Osbourne International

Let’s revisit the case of Birmingham Airport. A genuine petition to rename it after Ozzy Osbourne—an actual cultural icon, loved from Brum to Buenos Aires—got 68,000 signatures. More than most racing petitions manage combined. Did it succeed?

Of course it didn’t. Ozzy got a laugh, a local newspaper article, and probably a cheeky wink from Sharon. But the airport will still be called "Birmingham"—because in Britain, public sentiment only counts when it involves a royal baby, a war, or Greggs.

So tell me: if Ozzy bloody Osbourne fans can’t persuade local government to rebrand a patch of Midlands tarmac, what makes anyone think the Treasury is going to bin off a £66 million tax windfall because a few punters clicked a box on a website and shared it on Twitter with the #SaveOurSport hashtag?

The Racing Tax: A political no-brainer for a government that needs cash, fast

Let’s get real. This tax is coming because it’s easy. It’s not some tragic misunderstanding or bureaucratic hiccup. It’s political triage. The Labour government—yes, that Labour, with its “fairness” slogans and campaign videos featuring nurses, bricks and beige—has to raise cash without setting half the electorate on fire.

So what do you tax?

Not mortgages. Not food. Not energy companies (heaven forbid). No, you go for the easy target: gambling. And within that, horse racing—already stigmatised, already niche, and politically voiceless unless Zara Tindall pipes up between episodes of The Crown.

It’s the least painful, least controversial source of revenue in the entire budget. It offends no big donors. It doesn’t touch middle-class hobbies like opera or National Trust scones. It lets Labour look “serious on addiction” while generating tens of millions from people the political class doesn’t even pretend to understand anymore.

From a cynical electoral perspective, taxing betting is perfect. It’s everything Labour needs: progressive optics, quick revenue, and no pushback from the wine-and-Volvo set.

So again: how is a flaccid petition with fewer signatures than a Love Island contestant’s OnlyFans page supposed to change that?

A failed petition is worse than silence. It tells them we don’t matter.

This is the part racing’s leaders—and I use that term loosely, like calling a cheese string a structural support—seem to miss entirely. A failed petition isn’t just disappointing. It’s damning. It doesn’t say, “the sport tried and failed.” It says, “the sport doesn’t have enough public interest to bother listening to.”

The BHA, in its unrelenting pursuit of abstract governance and clipboard respectability, has backed this petition like a nervous prefect handing in a complaint to the school janitor. But have they stopped for even five seconds to ask: what happens if it flops?

Because let’s be honest—it probably will. Not because racing isn’t loved. But because public petitions are a terrible medium for anything more nuanced than “save the bees” or “ban the Kardashians.” They reward outrage, not complexity. And racing is nothing if not complex: history, class, money, animals, bookies, pubs, mud, monarchy. Try putting that on a billboard.

If the petition dies on its arse—and it likely will—then congratulations: the BHA will have provided the Treasury with quantifiable proof that it can rob racing blind and get away with it.

Meanwhile, the BHA continues its long-standing tradition of strategic hibernation

The BHA, rather than mounting an actual resistance, appears to be busy drafting another five-year plan about data standardisation and “long-term integrity frameworks.” Useful stuff when you’re being quietly dismantled by fiscal policy, no doubt.

The bookmakers, of course, are loving it. They get to feign concern while secretly rubbing their hands in delight. Tax racing? Fine. Just don’t touch the online casino profits. You can practically hear the sighs of relief wafting from Gibraltar.

And the punters—those loyal, muddy-shoed degenerates who prop the entire industry up with their £5 Lucky 15s and boundless optimism? Shafted. Again. First it was affordability checks so invasive they made MI5 look like Reader’s Digest. Now, it's taxation dressed up as reform. And all the while, their so-called advocates are too busy setting up petitions to realise they’re walking willingly into a trap.

This isn’t about petitions. It’s about whether racing fights, or folds

So let’s call this what it is: a symbolic whimper dressed up as a campaign. Petitions are not activism. They are soft play for the politically timid. If racing is to survive, it needs to stop acting like a Victorian museum exhibit and start acting like an industry under siege.

That means headlines. Legal threats. Protests, even. Get trainers marching on Westminster. Get punters writing to MPs. Make it bloody awkward for Labour. Let them feel what it’s like to strangle a national sport and own it in public. And for the love of Lester Piggott, stop thinking a form with 100,000 signatures is anything other than a bureaucratic bin liner for backbenchers.

Summary: Don’t sign it—not because racing doesn’t matter, but because it does

Signing this petition won’t save British racing. But watching it fail might finish it off. That’s the real risk. The government is watching—not for passion or principle, but for weakness. And a weak petition is like an open stable door with the horse halfway to France.

So no, don’t sign it. Not because you don’t care—but because you do. Because this sport deserves a fight, not a half-arsed spreadsheet of sympathy votes. It deserves a campaign, a media onslaught, and political pain for those who ignore it.

Unless you want to watch the next Cheltenham Festival via virtual reality while betting on cartoon goats and paying a “Racing Heritage Levy” to the Treasury, it’s time to stop clicking—and start kicking.