England has decided the super-rich need a handler.

Not a concierge. Not a helpdesk. A named compliance manager, one per billionaire, tasked with mapping every trust, flat, holding company and offshore stitch so HMRC can squeeze them harder baby. 

They call it “getting tax right.” hahahahaha That’s the Ministry of Love speak from 1984. 



The letters read like a cavity search with letterhead. After years of not even knowing how many billionaires paid tax here, the state has discovered a personality: extraction with a smile.



This from a Treasury that spends like there is no tomorrow, then looks shocked when the people who actually produce tomorrow start checking flight times.



They will house asylum applicants in hotels and call it compassion, then act scandalized when anyone notices the bill, to the billions of English taxpayer money per year, to house people no one wants in the country, save maybe the green Party which, let’s face it, is just a FRussian / Chinese plot to destroy the country from within. 



Illegal presence is not the same as an asylum claim — the law draws that line — but the political class flattened the language on purpose. Destitute claimants get a roof and a card. The public gets the invoice and a lecture. 

Object to the hotels and you are a bigot. Point at the grooming-gang record — Rotherham, Rochdale, Telford, the rest, institutional cowardice included — and they will fight you on the number. Fine. Two hundred and fifty thousand is an extrapolation, not a census. 



The inquiries, the under-recording, the girls written off as “problematic,” those are not extrapolations. Those happened. Pretending the scandal is a meme is how you get another decade of the same.

Speech is the tell. You can still say most of this in Britain. You can also get five officers at arrivals for an X post, a prison term for a riot-week tweet, and a magistrates’ bench that convicts speech cases at a higher clip than a jury. 



Say something the police class dislikes, makes them less electable, no jury for you, get hauled in front of a party loyalist, acting as the magistrate, who’s gonna convict youy. They no longer trust twelve random English people with the verdict; jury nullification for their idiotic laws will no longer tolerated.



Meanwhile there is still no classic exit tax. Leave properly, stay gone long enough, and a lot of unrealised gain walks with you. They will change that the moment enough golden geese notice. 
Worldwide taxation for long-term residents is the new religion. Inheritance tax now follows you for a decade after you leave if you were here long enough.

The porch is not empty. The tax man is just putting his shoes on.



If you are very rich and English, you already know the rest. You can live anywhere. You see what’s coming, you feel the boa squeezing harder and harder, you get out of dodge while you still can. 



Other countries will take the jobs, the payroll, the philanthropy and the tax of someone who employs thousands.



To paraphrase the Great Thomas Sowell, Wanting to keep what you built is called greed. Wanting to take it from you because you are morally superior and want to decide how it is spent is called “goodness.” 
That inversion is the whole late-empire software package.



Modern states are running low on the thing they cannot print: people who invent, hire, and stay. So they tighten the thought rules and the money rules and then wonder why the creative output feels thinner. 
Either you stay fight the totalitarian ancando so obviously slithering towards you, or you bolt. Sitting still while they assign you a personal extractor is not strategy. It is a hobby for people who enjoy being farmed.