When Labour announced its gambling tax shake-up in the 2025-26 budget, it wasn’t exactly a quiet moment in corporate Britain. Within hours, share prices were tanking, press releases were flying, and the lobbying machines were already spinning. The government’s plan, pitched as both a revenue measure and a nod towards harm reduction, has provoked one of the more revealing corporate influence campaigns of recent years.
The tax is straightforward enough on paper. Remote Gaming Duty, which covers online casino games and slots, is set to nearly double. Remote Gaming Duty will rise from 21% to 40% for accounting periods beginning on or after 6 April 2026. The government argues online products carry lower operating costs than their high-street equivalents, so operators can absorb a higher rate. Treasury projections suggest the changes will raise £1.1 billion by 2029-30. For Labour, that’s not nothing.
Lobbyists, Donations, and Quiet Government Access
The industry’s response has been coordinated, fast, and heavy on the language of economic harm. Major operators have all issued statements warning of job losses, reduced sports funding, and the creeping threat of unregulated black-market alternatives. That last point deserves scrutiny. The black-market argument is a perennial favourite for gambling firms facing any form of regulation. It sounds consumer-focused. It isn’t, really. It’s a pressure tactic.
What is changing, however, is player behaviour at the margins. As domestic rules tighten, some users are exploring international online casinos as an alternative. A review of comparison sites, such as gamblinginsider, shows the appeal is fairly straightforward: larger game libraries, fewer restrictions on play, and more aggressive bonus structures that aren’t always available under UK-regulated platforms.Â
For experienced players in particular, the broader range of slots, table variants, and promotional offers can feel like a return to how online gaming operated years ago. That doesn’t make it a like-for-like substitute.Â
What’s more notable is the access. Gambling companies have long maintained cosy relationships with political figures across both major parties, and Labour’s landslide hasn’t changed that architecture overnight.Â
Industry bodies have engaged directly with Treasury officials, and individual operators have made their positions known through every available channel. Whether that constitutes undue influence or legitimate business engagement depends on your politics, but the scale of the response is impossible to ignore.
What the Industry Claims It Stands to Lose
The numbers being thrown around are eye-catching. Entain, one of the UK’s biggest online gambling groups, estimates a £200 million hit to its UK online business from the combined remote gaming and betting duty changes, before any mitigations.Â
Entain plans to offset around a quarter of that impact through reduced marketing spend. Evoke is forecasting an annualised cost of £125-135 million post-2027. Playtech expects a hit in the higher-end running into millions of euros. These aren’t trivial figures, but they’re also estimates designed to land with maximum weight in a political negotiation. Every number released publicly is also a lobbying document.
Why Working-Class Punters Won’t See the Savings
Here’s the thing nobody in the industry is quite saying out loud: if operators do face significant cost increases, they’re unlikely to absorb them quietly. UK gambling operators have already signalled plans to reduce promotions and adjust product offerings as direct mitigation strategies. That means fewer free bets, tighter odds, and less generous bonus structures, changes felt most acutely by regular, often lower-income customers who use those incentives as part of their gambling habit.
The industry frames this tax hike as an attack on a legitimate, heavily regulated sector that contributes jobs and sports sponsorship money. But the framing conveniently sidesteps who actually funds those revenues, predominantly working-class men, often in deprived areas, who spend disproportionately on online slots and casino games. The same products are now facing the highest tax rates. Any serious political analysis of this lobbying campaign has to start there: with who bears the cost, and who gets to complain about it publicly.
Labour walked into government promising to govern differently from its predecessors. The gambling tax rise, whatever its flaws, is at least an attempt to make a powerful industry pay more into the public purse. Whether the lobbying machine succeeds in watering it down will say quite a lot about how different this government actually intends to be.













Gambling is a rip-off. It will always be so. Why is Canary promoting it?