Why I’ll Never Vote Labour Again: A Farewell from a Former Floating Voter

There was a time when I considered myself politically agnostic. A bit of red, a bit of blue, maybe even a touch of yellow in my more romantic phases. I believed that voting should be based on merit, on policies, performance, and leadership, not on tribal loyalty. In short, I was a floating voter. Rational. Principled. Open.

But those days are over. And I’m writing this with the full clarity of someone who has weighed it all up and reached a conclusion not lightly, but necessarily:

I will never again vote Labour. Not in this lifetime.

This isn’t about rage or ideology. It’s about values. It’s about what we reward and what we punish as a society. It’s about recognising that under the banner of equality, Labour is actively engineering policies that, in practice, discourage ambition, suffocate enterprise, and widen the very inequalities they claim to heal.

The death of aspiration

Once upon a time, Labour stood for lifting people up. It championed the working class and those struggling to get by. It offered a ladder. But today’s Labour doesn’t offer ladders. It hands out ropes. Ones you’re not allowed to climb unless everyone else is at the same rung.

Rather than enable growth, it appears more interested in enforcing conformity. Equality is no longer about giving everyone a chance. It’s about making sure no one gets too far ahead. The problem is, when you engineer a system to suppress the front-runners, you don’t raise the rear. You simply stall the entire race.

The quiet exodus: Britain’s builders are leaving

As someone who’s spent decades building companies, employing teams, and navigating the maddening maze of UK regulation, I’ve always believed that enterprise is one of the greatest forces for good. It’s where innovation lives. Where social mobility begins. Where real change happens.

But increasingly, I look around and see friends, colleagues, and fellow founders simply… disappearing.

Not in a puff of anger. But in a quiet, calculated withdrawal. Portugal. Dubai. Singapore. Even Italy. They’re not just warmer. They’re fairer. Fairer to those who take risk. Who put their own capital on the line. Who lose sleep to build something from nothing.

And the trend is not anecdotal. It’s measurable.

This year alone, over 16,000 millionaires are expected to leave the UK, with £66 billion in investable wealth flowing out of our economy. These are not faceless tycoons. These are the entrepreneurs who fund start-ups, mentor youth, support charities, and reinvest in local communities. Their departure is not a matter of envy. It is a crisis in slow motion.

The policies pushing us off the cliff

And Labour? They are accelerating it.

The abolition of non-dom status sounds just on paper, until you realise it’s pushing high-value professionals, global investors, and philanthropic families out of Britain altogether. People who, up until now, were proud to call the UK home.

The increase in employer National Insurance burdens small and medium businesses, the very ones that Labour claims to support. It makes hiring more expensive and risks wage stagnation at the worst possible time.

Add to this the spectre of Capital Gains Tax hikes and a politically performative £30 billion industrial strategy that does nothing to reform access to funding or support for regional entrepreneurs, and you’ve got a cocktail of policies that reward passivity and punish dynamism.

The great betrayal: VAT on education and the ideology behind it

Of all the policies Labour has put forward, one in particular stands out for me. Not just because of its economic naivety, but because of what it says about the party’s true philosophy. The decision to impose 20 percent VAT on independent schools.

On the surface, this is presented as a matter of fairness. A way to raise funds for a struggling state sector. But dig a little deeper, and the motives become far murkier.

This isn’t about revenue. This is about resentment.

Independent schools don’t just educate children. They often support local communities, offer bursaries, and relieve pressure on the state. Parents who send their children to these schools already pay into the state system via taxes and then again through school fees. Double payers, essentially. But instead of being applauded for their contribution, they’re being financially punished.

And who will suffer most? Not the ultra-wealthy. They’ll be fine. The real pain will be felt by middle-class families who stretch every penny to send their children to schools they believe will give them a better chance. Nurses. GPs. Shopkeepers. Small business owners. They’re the ones at risk of being priced out. And the state schools expected to absorb the sudden influx of pupils? They’re already overstretched. Class sizes will balloon. Resources will dwindle. Standards will drop for everyone.

Make no mistake. This is not education reform. This is ideological warfare disguised as policy. It’s not about helping the poor. It’s about penalising the aspirational.

Rachel Reeves herself referred to the tax as a way to “price out the middle class.” Think about that. Not redistribute. Not support. Price out.

That’s not progressive. That’s destructive.

We don’t rise by cutting down

There is a growing belief within Labour circles that ambition is inherently suspect. That personal success must be taxed, regulated, and morally accounted for. That those who rise must do so in a way that makes everyone else feel better about staying still.

But here’s the truth. We don’t lift the poor by punishing the productive. We don’t create equality by destroying excellence. We do it by creating more opportunity, by encouraging people to rise, and supporting them along the way.

What Labour is offering now is not equality. It is enforced mediocrity.

So yes, I’m out

I’ve made my decision. Not because I’m bitter. Not because I’ve become hardened or cynical. But because I see where this road leads, and I cannot in good conscience vote for a party that stands so firmly against the principles I believe make a nation thrive.

If you value freedom. If you believe in aspiration. If you support those who build, employ, teach and create, then you have to look at Labour’s current direction and ask, what future are we actually building here?

Because from where I’m standing, it’s not one I want to be part of.