Barry Hearn’s Ten-Point Plan for Saving Horse Racing : Part 1

When Barry Hearn speaks, people listen. Whether it’s about snooker, darts, or the quirks of life, the Matchroom maestro has a knack for cutting through the noise with straightforward ideas and a no-nonsense attitude. In his latest interview, conducted skillfully and with patience by Simon Nott of Star Sports Bookmaking, Hearn turned his attention to the state of British horse racing, offering a radical plan to save the sport from its slow decline.

And let’s be honest—if anyone knows how to turn a sport around, it’s Barry Hearn. This is the man who took darts from smoky pub corners to sold-out arenas, who transformed snooker into prime-time drama, and who made boxing a box-office spectacle. If racing can be rescued, Hearn’s the guy that knows how to do it.

The Betting Tax: 2.5% of Turnover for Prize Money

Hearn’s headline proposal is the immediate reintroduction of a betting tax, with 2.5% of betting turnover directed straight into prize money. This isn’t just a financial tweak—it’s a bold intervention that could inject hundreds of millions into the sport c£300M. With billions wagered annually, the potential windfall could elevate prize money across the board, ensuring that even grassroots racing becomes viable again.

Hearn doesn’t mince his words, Surely we need to be racing for a minimum of £10,000+ per race. Attracting owners, trainers, and punters to races that barely scrape together £3,000 in prize money is like inviting guests to a banquet where the main course is a Pot Noodle.

This isn’t just about the elite races either. The trickle-down effect of better funding would make grassroots racing sustainable, attracting new owners, boosting syndicates, and breathing life into the lower tiers of the sport. And let’s face it: without a better financial foundation, the sport is doomed to stagnate in mediocrity.

The Racecourse Experience: Make It Fun Again

Hearn’s next big idea? Bring the fun back to the racecourse. As he points out, people need to leave the track feeling like they’ve had the time of their lives—whether they’ve won or lost. “You only have to look at the crowds at darts or snooker,” he notes. “They’re having a good time.”

Compare that to the dreary midweek meetings at some all-weather tracks: empty grandstands, a lifeless atmosphere, and food that makes motorway services look like Michelin-starred restaurants. Hearn’s vision is bold:

• Affordable ticket prices that don’t require a second mortgage.

• A carnival-like atmosphere to attract families and younger fans.

• Themed race days, live entertainment, and interactive experiences to keep the buzz alive.

If darts can pack arenas with singing crowds and snooker can make a silent room electric, racing has no excuse for its current tedium. Without fun, racing risks “going to the dogs”—and not in a nostalgic, greyhound-track sense.

More Owners, Fewer Barriers

Hearn also highlights the snobbery surrounding syndicates, calling for a cultural overhaul. “Some people look down on syndicates,” he laments, “but that’s just snobbishness.”

He’s absolutely right. Racing ownership shouldn’t be the exclusive preserve of the monocle-wearing elite. Syndicates offer an affordable, engaging way to involve more people in the sport, creating lifelong connections and future enthusiasts.

But breaking down barriers requires more than a change in attitude. Lower costs, simplified processes, and better incentives are essential to attract fresh blood into ownership. With an injection of prize money, ownership could become rewarding for everyone—not just those with deep pockets.

Imagine the conversations at the paddock: “Oh, how lovely for you—a 2% share in a Class 5 handicapper? Do let us know how your Co-op loyalty points are stacking up!” Racing’s gatekeeping attitude needs to end, or its audience will age out faster than a two-year-old sprinter.

Governance: Racing’s Achilles’ Heel

The sharpest part of Hearn’s critique targets racing’s governance. Fragmented, slow-moving, and riddled with conflicts of interest, it’s a sport in desperate need of a leader who can unite its warring factions.

“I’m 76,” Hearn admits. “I don’t have the time or energy to devote to such a fragmented sport.” If someone as dynamic and experienced as Barry Hearn isn’t up for the challenge, you have to wonder who could possibly step into the breach. The BHA CEO unfortunately isnt likely to skill, charisma or balls of a Barry Hearn.

Perhaps the solution lies not in a single knight in shining armour but in overhauling the governance structure entirely. Racing needs a unified authority capable of cutting through the bickering, prioritising the long-term health of the sport, and making bold decisions without being hamstrung by vested interests.

The Pie-in-the-Sky Problem

Hearn’s ideas are undeniably compelling, but they’re not without challenges. The 2.5% betting turnover tax, for example, would require significant buy-in from bookmakers who already cry poor at the mention of affordability checks. Punters, too, might balk at any perceived increase in costs—particularly those already weary of intrusive regulations.

And then there’s the cultural inertia of the racing world. Transforming racecourses into vibrant, inclusive spaces is easier said than done when many venues are clinging stubbornly to traditions that alienate younger audiences.

Barry Hearn has not got the time to do this now. This is a man who turned darts into a nationwide party and revitalised snooker for the 21st century. Racing could do far worse than listen to his advice—or better yet, hire him to execute it.

Credit Where It’s Due

Kudos to Simon Nott and Star Sports Bookmaking for orchestrating such an insightful discussion. Their thoughtful approach allowed Barry Hearn’s passion and pragmatism to shine, offering racing a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak landscape.

Hearn’s closing sentiment is one the industry would do well to heed: “Life’s a game, mate. Play it properly, or don’t bother turning up.” If racing isn’t willing to embrace bold, transformative ideas, it might find itself scratched from the card altogether.