Racing’s Rescue Plan Is Being Written by the Very People Trying to Kill It

On Luck on Sunday, the anti-gambling lobby did dodgy math and dodged hard questions. Why is Racing TV still letting them run the show?

HORSE RACINGPOLITICSBUSINESSGAMBLING

Ed Grimshaw

9/13/20264 min read

Here is the trick nobody on that sofa wants you to notice: ask the anti-gambling lobby to fix racing's finances and you don't get independence. You get a bigger mortgage on the same house, with a landlord who's just told the papers he can't stand you.

A Shaky Alliance with the Landlord

That's Luck on Sunday's Doncaster special, condensed. Zarb-Cousin, back on the sofa for the first time since February 2025, told Nick Luck racing should accept the Machine Gaming Duty rise and use the moment to renegotiate the levy instead. Half of that is sound. Hitching racing to a shrinking, radioactive betting-shop model was never a strategy. Renegotiating the levy isn't a clean divorce, though. It’s asking a landlord for better terms on a flat you can't afford to leave, days after he called your business a “dodgy” one on the record. I cant image Sky Sports inviting Jacob Rees Mogg to give his take on the City United local derby but apparently Luck on Sunday has a soft spot for anyone connected with Derek Webb or the SMF?

That's not incidental colour. Andy Burnham's been Prime Minister since July and has already lumped high-street bookies in with vape shops, while moving to scrap the rule that stops councils blocking new premises outright. Last year's carve-out—racing isn't the casino, don't tax it like one—worked on a government still willing to draw that line. This one shows no sign of caring where the line is.

When Numbers Escape Custody

Then come the sums, which is where it gets properly funny:

  • The Shrinking Job Loss Figure: Zarb-Cousin's job-loss estimate opened at Luck's figure of 16,000 (sourced to EY), passed through 15,000, and magically closed the segment at 1,500—live, apparently by accident. That's not rounding; that's a number escaping custody.

  • Economic Fantasy: He claimed gambling is the “lowest GVA sector,” as if money not staked on the 2:20 leaps joyfully into GDP the instant it's freed, rather than queuing for whatever's next.

  • The "95% Certainty" Trap: He was “95 per cent certain” the Treasury will act—precise enough to sound like a source, vague enough to mean nothing when he's wrong.

The One Real Stat: Credit where it's due: the one stat he didn't invent—that 60 per cent of gambling revenue comes from 5 per cent of customers—is real, House of Lords sourced, and undisputed. Everything else was a campaigner doing sums with an economist's confidence and none of an economist's homework.

He also rejected the label “prohibitionist” while calling, in the same breath, for higher taxes, fewer venues, and less growth across an entire legal industry. He then dismissed the betting shop's remaining social value because he’s “popped in every now and again”—fieldwork your uncle would consider generous before slagging off a restaurant.

Insight #1: Racing is Outsourcing Its Financial Future to Its Critics

Here's what should actually worry racing, and nobody's said it plainly: the levy plan Zarb-Cousin keeps deferring to (“I defer to Tom Savill's expertise,” he noted twice) wasn't built by anyone in racing's commercial engine room.

It came out of Plumpton's Tom Savill working with the Social Market Foundation—the same people credited with last year's carve-out. Savill was even photographed at last September's BHA strike standing next to Zarb-Cousin.

Key Takeaway: Racing's rescue plan is being co-written with the lobby trying to shrink the market it depends on, not with the bookmakers who still fund most of it. That buys goodwill in Whitehall, but it buys nothing at the next media rights negotiation, where the people footing the bill are reportedly getting tired of racing's new friends.

Insight #2: The Uncomfortable Double Standard

There’s an argument Zarb-Cousin never squares. He is aligned with the campaign to ban greyhound racing in England on the grounds that a sport propped up by harmful betting revenue can't be justified.

Horseracing runs on exactly the same fuel, and horses die on track in numbers the sport doesn't love to publicise. Nobody has yet asked him on air why the logic that ends one sport is supposed to save the other. Luck didn't ask this time either.

Insight #3: Racing TV is Asking the Wrong Questions

Which raises the question Racing TV should answer directly: why does this man keep getting the segment? Two days before this episode, Martin Cruddace—actual chief executive of an actual racecourse company, a man who's previously put a real number on a real tax change—walked through financial modeling considerably more useful than anything said the following afternoon. Racing TV had the right guest in the building. It aired him Saturday, then reset to the same double-act on Sunday it's run since at least last February

Even Cruddace's numbers answer the wrong-sized question. “What does this duty rise cost us?” is an invoice, not a strategy.

The Real Verdict: The Hose is Rented

Racing doesn't have a tax problem it can win its way out of one Budget at a time. It has a structural problem: a fixture list, a breeding industry, an ownership economy, and a fan base, all ultimately depending on money that flows through somebody else's shop first.

  • Model that whole system, and you get an answer to what racing's income and infrastructure should actually look like.

  • Model only the invoice, and you get a correct answer to a small question, delivered with total sincerity, that changes nothing.

None of this needed a bigger levy, a nicer campaigner, or a braver number. It needed racing to notice that the roof was never the problem. The house is rented, the landlord's gone off the tenant, and the vicar—however sincerely he means it—cannot advise you to move out.Somebody should. Nobody's been invited to try