Lisa Nandy & the Disappearing Ethics Trick

There’s a reason Paul Daniels never went into politics. For one, he had integrity. Also, when he made something disappear, you knew it was a trick. It wasn’t a conflict of interest, a forgotten donor, or a breach of the governance code helpfully filed under "Oops." It was sleight of hand, a puff of smoke, and a wink at the camera.

Lisa Nandy, on the other hand, has just made credibility disappear – without even the decency of a glittery waistcoat.

Lisa Nandy’s Magic Act: Make a Donor Disappear – Then Give Him a Job

This week, Nandy, Britain’s most accidentally comedic Culture Secretary, appointed one David Kogan as head of the new Independent Football Regulator. Lovely bloke. Knows about telly. Once negotiated Premier League TV deals. Also: donated money to Nandy’s leadership campaign. And to Labour. And to Starmer.

Did she declare this? No.
Did her department? Also no.
Did she, at any point, remember that the man she just handed a job in regulating billionaires once slipped her a brown envelope marked "For the cause"? Absolutely not. Instead, she gave him the job, then later claimed it was all above board – she just “didn’t know.” A defence so weak it wouldn’t survive a breeze from Paul Daniels’ old smoke machine.

“The Tote Is in Wigan!” – The Battle Cry of Every Underqualified Minister

When asked why she – a woman with all the regulatory oversight of a sleepy ferret – should be trusted to manage gambling and sport, Nandy defaulted to her favourite line:“I understand gambling. The Tote is based in Wigan.”

That’s it. That’s the full justification. She’s the MP for Wigan, and the Tote happens to be there, so clearly she’s the Nostradamus of betting reform. Using this logic, the Transport Secretary should be qualified because there’s a bus stop outside his local Greggs. And I should be Chancellor of the Exchequer because I once found a tenner down the back of the sofa.

Enter Derek Webb – Poker King, Political Donor, and Budget Whisperer

And just when you thought the stage couldn’t hold more smoke and mirrors, in walks Derek Webb – former professional poker player turned political patron saint of tax justice.

He made millions from Three Card Poker, then even more by suing anyone foolish enough to try copying it. Now, he’s pouring that cash into Labour with the laser focus of a man placing a very strategic bet – £1.3 million to be precise. That makes him Labour’s fifth-largest individual donor, beating out trade unions and even certain industries trying not to look too obvious.

Webb says it’s all about socioeconomic justice. Noble. Admirable. But still a bit weird coming from a bloke whose fortune came from convincing drunk people in Las Vegas to trust their luck against a rigged house.

He now wants Labour to double online gambling tax and regulate the industry like it’s selling black-market uranium. Coincidentally, he also funds the think tanks lobbying for this. Coincidentally, his name appears in Treasury memos. Coincidentally, Labour's now "considering" the policy. Coincidence is really doing the heavy lifting these days.

Labour’s New Motto: “Now You See the Ethics – Now You Don’t!”

Between Kogan’s appointment, Webb’s influence, and Starmer’s dead-eyed apologies, Labour has perfected the political magic trick: make ethics vanish, apologise sincerely, and carry on regardless. It’s not corruption – it’s cabinet conjuring. It’s sleaze with a side of sincerity. Paul Daniels would be spinning in his glitter-lined coffin. Lisa Nandy is the magician, the audience is asleep, and the assistant just handed the sword to her biggest donor.

And here comes Starmer, clapping politely from the front row. “Wonderful,” he says. “Unfortunate mistake. Let’s all learn a lesson.” Spoiler: the lesson is never learned. The lesson is don’t get caught next time. And if you do – say the words “good faith” and the press will move on after 48 hours and a tearful BBC Breakfast appearance.

DCMS: Department for Cronyism, Magicians and Sleight-of-Hand

Let’s be blunt: DCMS is now a donor playground in a novelty hat. Labour’s turned it into a mix of second-rate PR agency, West End casting couch, and poorly supervised bingo night. Under the Conservatives, DCMS was a joke. Under Labour, it's a joke with a spreadsheet. Same old nepotism – just now wrapped in Wigan-flavoured justification and a slightly better understanding of grammar.

They’ve got gambling policy being shaped by ex-poker kings. Football regulation handed to donors. And a Secretary of State who believes geographical coincidence is a political credential. The Tote is in Wigan. David Copperfield once toured Birmingham. Should we put him in charge of Treasury?

Final Reveal: Is Labour a Political Party or a Magic Circle Audition?

Labour promised us integrity. We got stage magic.
They promised fan-first football governance. We got the donor box suite at Wembley.
They promised grown-up politics. We got "Oops! I forgot my donor gave me money" from a Cabinet Minister with the self-awareness of a microwave.

So here we are, watching Lisa Nandy pull public trust out of a novelty top hat while Derek Webb stacks chips in the corner like a man who knows exactly how this story ends.

And Keir Starmer? He’s standing stage-left, applauding, holding a clipboard that says “Lessons Learned: 6, Accountability Taken: 0.”