"Starmer’s Tax Tangle: Defining ‘Working People’ as Anyone Who Doesn’t Own Anything"

Is there a sight more endearing than Sir Keir Starmer wrestling with definitions, lost in thought as he tries to put everyday people into neat boxes? Having already stumbled over the delicate issue of what makes a woman (conceding he’s “not sure” back in 2021), Starmer is now tackling another head-scratcher: the humble working person. It seems Labour’s plan is to tax the “non-working wealthy” – as soon as they can work out exactly who they are. It’s hardly surprising he left the law for politics; clients tend to demand their briefs have something resembling consistency.

But here we are. When asked by Sky’s Beth Rigby to explain precisely who counts as a “working person,” Starmer offered what could be one of the most convoluted definitions ever delivered by a former prosecutor. A working person, we learned, is “someone who goes out and earns their living, usually paid in a sort of monthly cheque.” Now there’s precision for you! If you’re on a fortnightly pay cycle, you’d better get your affairs in order, or at least stay clear of any capital gains, lest you accidentally become a “non-working wealthy” subject to Labour’s upcoming tax reckoning.

The Curious Case of the Asset-Accumulating “Non-Workers”

Starmer clarified he doesn’t consider people living off income from assets—like shares, rental properties, or a few quid tucked into a lifetime ISA—as “workers.” No, those folks are part of Britain’s lavish upper crust, busy sipping cocktails on dividend earnings while laughing in the face of Sir Keir’s virtuous “monthly cheque” crowd. You can almost see the flyer: “Labour Party – Your One-Stop Guide to Who’s Really Working!”

According to Starmer, only those slogging out the 9-to-5 are the nation’s righteous taxpayers. The retired widow relying on rental income? Far too privileged. The small business owner cashing in a bit of profit? Outrageous decadence. It’s a vision that enshrines the working class in one form and one form only – just as long as they’re not cheeky enough to invest a penny.

Rachel Reeves to Rewrite Fiscal Rules: When All Else Fails, Just Move the Goalposts

Meanwhile, Rachel Reeves is taking a sledgehammer to Britain’s fiscal rulebook. Now, you might remember the good old rule that borrowing had to be falling by the fifth year of forecasts – a bit like setting a budget and hoping for the best. Reeves, however, plans to simply “redefine” this so Britain can borrow an extra £50 billion for public investment. It’s essentially her “hang on, let me just change the metric” approach to responsible economics.

Of course, Reeves insists this “redefining” will unlock limitless possibilities for investment in cutting-edge tech and a brave green future, though one suspects the actual strategy is about as green as a late-night kebab. Just last month, Labour “discovered” a £22 billion “black hole” in the books – though, in a twist of Dickensian comedy, they’ve now declared it to be £40 billion. It’s a bit like saying you’ve lost your keys, only to then “realise” you’ve also misplaced your car, your house, and perhaps a modest cottage in the Cotswolds.

The Perils of a Puritan Tax Code

Now, as for Starmer’s stance on the sin of “asset income,” it reads more like a strict boarding school headmaster’s rules than a government manifesto. Thou shalt not profit off thy shrewd investments! Thou shalt not derive income outside of monthly pay packets! But the unspoken irony here is that many of these so-called “non-workers” have slogged through years of hard graft precisely to reach a point where they don’t rely on monthly pay alone.

This asset demonisation game makes one wonder where it ends. If you managed to invest in stocks, saved a little here or there, or (perish the thought) bought a second home, Starmer’s government seems poised to nudge you toward the taxman’s door. It’s an approach that frames modest financial success as suspicious, a faintly Victorian mindset suggesting a man must have done something morally suspect to wind up with more than he needs.

Working-Class Politics – Performed by the Elite, for the Elite

Naturally, Labour’s grand rebrand as the “party of working people” is layered with irony. It’s a tough look to pull off when most of your top brass boast Oxbridge degrees, second homes, and tax-free ISAs. When Starmer—educated at Reigate Grammar, a former director of public prosecutions, and now ensconced in a posh London pad—suggests he’s been “one of the people” all along, one can’t help but picture him flipping through his latest equity statement with an air of noblesse oblige.

Reeves and Starmer, ensconced in policy debates over who counts as “working,” have unwittingly found themselves selling the very thing they deride: middle-class life on a modest dividend income. And with every tortured redefinition, Labour inches closer to sounding like a blend of McCarthyist economics and a warped Downton Abbey, insisting that only those in monthly-wage servitude can call themselves “true Britons.”

Labour’s Leap of Fiscal Faith

And so we watch, transfixed, as Labour, with Starmer as its Sherlock Holmes of class identity, fumbles its way through this high-stakes guessing game of “who really works.” To Reeves and Starmer, “austerity” is the other side’s watchword, so their redefinition of “fiscal prudence” will hinge on borrowing yet more money and taking a swipe at the asset-holders who (God forbid) dared to carve out their own wealth. It’s as if they expect us to believe that Britain’s path to fiscal salvation lies not in sound budgeting, but in “creative” redefinitions and penalising precisely those who’ve dared to get ahead.

But the showpiece in this whole political pantomime remains Starmer’s newfound duty as gatekeeper of what makes a “worker.” It’s not hard to imagine him crafting these classifications with all the gravitas of a medieval guildmaster, deciding who deserves exemption from his latest tax pledge. By this measure, Britain’s “non-working wealthy” may soon encompass everyone from retired shopkeepers with a small pension to any 40-year-old with a stake in Tesco.

So here’s to Labour’s new dawn, where tax plans are built on envy, fiscal rules are rewritten as casually as the average Word document, and Britain’s leaders have taken up the role of semantic wranglers rather than economic visionaries. In Starmer’s Britain, “working people” might finally get some relief – as long as they don’t own anything.