Racing's Corporate Masters & Tax Relief Insights

Bottom Line Up Front: They’re Rich, You’re Paying for Their Hobbies

While the British Horseracing Authority (BHA) parades around Westminster like a drunken punter at Doncaster pleading for a fiver to get home, the industry's so-called "partners"—Flutter, Entain, and the Reuben Brothers—are sat on wealth piles large enough to make Croesus feel undercapitalised. And yet, we’re told racing needs a £160 million tax break to survive.

Let’s be clear: this isn’t about saving racing. It’s about underwriting the cost of private jets and offshore accountants for men who see horseracing the same way they see carbon offsetting—expensive, performative, and best run through Luxembourg.

Flutter Entertainment: The Bookie Who Cried Poor

Flutter, the betting giant that owns everything from Paddy Power to FanDuel, made over a billion in adjusted EBITDA last year, while simultaneously shaking the tin for sympathy over state-level tax tweaks in America. The same America, incidentally, where their FanDuel iGaming market share hit 28%—meaning nearly 1 in 3 digital gamblers over there are handing their cash to a company that swears it's teetering on the brink of collapse every time a new levy appears.

But it gets better. Flutter is planning a $1 billion share buyback—because when you're allegedly under financial strain, the most responsible thing to do is throw a billion at your shareholders like it's confetti at a Tory donor’s wedding.

And behind the scenes? Malta. Land of sun, pastizzi, and hilariously lenient corporate tax. Flutter’s Maltese operation is home to all the right departments—fraud, legal, customer service—all the machinery you need when dodging a tax bill becomes more sophisticated than your actual product line. The "Single Malt" structure should be on the national curriculum by now: one part Ireland, one part Malta, two parts brazen gall.

Entain: Everything But the Modesty

Entain’s corporate press releases drip with smugness like a stockbroker in red trousers. They boast of being “the only global operator to exclusively operate in domestically regulated or regulating markets,” which is corporate speak for, “We pay just enough tax to look respectable but not a penny more than the intern with the offshore spreadsheet allows.”

They’ve posted over £1 billion in EBITDA, run operations in over 30 territories, and their BetMGM venture in the States brought in over $2 billion in net revenue last year. These are not numbers that scream "fragile partnership with British racing." These are the figures of a company that could buy every British racecourse and still have enough left to sponsor Prince Harry’s next memoir.

And let’s not forget their charming Turkish bribery scandal, which cost them a £585 million settlement. One wonders how many ‘charitable donations’ were included to make that taste a bit less bitter. A company so slick, it apologises with six-figure PR campaigns and then goes back to lobbying for tax cuts with the straight face of a vegan butcher.

The Reuben Brothers: Monaco Men with a Newcastle Address

Then there’s the Reuben Brothers. Britain’s third-richest family with a net worth approaching £25 billion, and owners of Arena Racing Company (ARC)—which now controls nearly 40% of UK racing fixtures. Think of it as Monopoly, except instead of "Mayfair" they buy up working-class British pastimes and run them through BVI shell companies. Charming.

Their tax strategies are so advanced they could teach modules at the London School of Economics. Their Newcastle HMRC office is owned—wait for it—via a British Virgin Islands company. Yes, the very tax inspectors tasked with stopping avoidance work in a building effectively leased back to them by the people they should be auditing. You couldn't make it up unless you were writing a sequel to Yes, Minister while on LSD.

Meanwhile, they’re throwing £425 million at beachside hotels in Florida like it’s beer money. But racing needs a tax break to "survive." Of course it does. My kettle needs a grant too—it’s terribly stressed from all the boiling.

Racing’s Hostage Fantasy: Stockholm With a Saddle

Let’s pause and appreciate the theatre: racing, arms outstretched, begging government for relief—while its captors smoke cigars rolled with Cayman banknotes in boardrooms carpeted with tax rulings.

This isn't partnership. It’s corporate Munchausen Syndrome. Racing’s leaders aren’t just being exploited—they’re enthusiastically lobbying on behalf of their exploiters. It’s like a fox writing to DEFRA asking for more henhouses.

When Flutter can hand a billion to shareholders and Entain builds billion-dollar US ventures, it’s frankly insulting to pretend British racing is indispensable to their operations. And the Reubens? They’ll drop more on a Monaco penthouse refit than racing gets in annual levy payments.

The Monaco Manoeuvre: Champagne on the Riviera, Subsidies in Surrey

Monaco, that tax-friendly Mecca of yacht owners and retired Formula 1 drivers, isn’t officially a tax haven—but it’s doing a damn good impression. No income tax. No capital gains. The Reubens have poured money into it like it’s a backup fund for their cashmere socks. Why wouldn’t they? You can sunbathe, shop, and restructure your tax liabilities before lunch.

Meanwhile, back in Blighty, the Reubens are lobbying via surrogates for tax relief for their racecourses, which have already been transformed into private equity assets operated with the enthusiasm of a hungover accountant at a meat raffle.

The Newcastle Paradox: Civil Servants, Offshore Landlords, and Magical Realism

If Orwell wrote this bit, we’d call it too on the nose. HMRC workers, charged with fighting tax avoidance, work inside a building owned through a BVI company... by Tory donors. You couldn’t stage this without having Ricky Gervais direct it and Brian Blessed shout the punchlines.

Oh, and those same landlords are investing in Newcastle Racecourse with plans for luxury developments and event centres. But sure—let’s pretend they can’t afford a few million in levy harmonisation without falling into economic ruin.

The "Axe The Tax" Campaign: A Masterclass in Masochism

This is where it gets surreal. The BHA, funded and steered by the very companies that dodge the taxes they now want relief from, has launched a campaign asking average Britons—many of whom can’t afford a pint without checking their overdraft—to write to MPs begging for tax cuts for billionaires.

"Axe The Tax" is the sort of slogan that should come with a health warning and a corporate sponsor. It’s like Tesco asking for food stamps.

You don’t get to parade your “unique partnership” with global betting firms, brag about digital transformation and seven-figure prize money, and then cry poverty when someone asks you to pay your fair share.

It’s ethically bankrupt, politically clueless, and structurally suicidal.

Conclusion: The Revolution Racing Still Refuses

British racing has a choice: continue being a glorified side hustle for offshore billionaires, or wake up and restructure its relationship with the entities feeding off it. The current model is a tax avoidance laundromat draped in tweed and pretending it's heritage.

The BHA could’ve chosen innovation. It chose appeasement. It could’ve built resilience. It chose Stockholm Syndrome. And it could’ve fought for the sport. Instead, it’s fighting for the tax breaks of people who see Ascot as networking, not national culture.

Until racing stands up to its corporate masters, it will remain a beggar in the banquet hall—shiny shoes, empty plate, and a sign that reads, “Will grovel for levy relief.” And next time you are resticted or asked for your bank details remember these parasites dont even give the UK taxman full visibility of their tax avoiding scheming.