Jim Ratcliffe - Continued

Jim Ratcliffe declared that Britain is being “colonised”, and Nigel Farage and others applauded. It is a heavy word, the sort that suggests foreign control and decisions taken elsewhere. It sounds as though sovereignty has slipped away. But when you examine what is actually meant, the claim becomes less geopolitical and far more visual.

Because how, exactly, is this alleged colonisation detected?

Not through ONS migration tables. Not through visa criteria. Not through fiscal data. It usually comes down to what people say they can see when they “look around”.

And that is where the logic begins to wobble.

If “colonisation” is left undefined and treated as visible demographic concentration, then it logically extends to long-established communities such as the Haredi in Stamford Hill, Irish enclaves in west London, Australians in Clapham, French clusters in Kensington, or even me quietly minding my business in Dutch West Old Sodbury.

The instinctive clarification, “Oh, I don’t mean that group,” reveals the instability of the term. It suggests that the trigger is not cultural distinctiveness, not religion, not communal clustering, and not even foreign birth.

Of course, some may insist they do mean every concentrated community, including Stamford Hill and the French in Kensington. But if that is the case, then Britain has been in a permanent state of colonisation for centuries. Huguenots in Spitalfields, Irish in Liverpool, Jews in the East End, Americans in Surrey. The word ceases to describe foreign control and becomes shorthand for visible pluralism.

I was born in the Netherlands. By definition, I am an immigrant. Yet nobody has ever looked at me in the Co-op and muttered about demographic takeover. Why not? Because I look and sound familiar. I blend in.

Now consider a second-generation British citizen of Pakistani heritage, born here, educated here, speaking with the same regional accent as his neighbours. Legally British. Culturally British. The only obvious difference is skin tone.

If the concern were purely about scale or integration, it would apply consistently regardless of colour. When it does not, the remaining variable becomes clear. The conclusion is difficult to avoid. At that point the metaphor stops being about sovereignty or demographic arithmetic and becomes about who looks different. Europe has travelled that road before, and it did not end well.

That is not an accusation. It is a logical fork.

Now add the arithmetic.

Britain is ageing. Pension liabilities rise year after year. Health demand rises with them. Since 2020, economic inactivity due to long-term sickness has increased materially, with hundreds of thousands of working-age people out of the labour market because of chronic illness, including Long Covid and related conditions. That shrinkage has nothing to do with borders and everything to do with health.

Working-age migrants tend to be younger and economically active. Remove large numbers of them and the fiscal pressure does not disappear. It shifts. Fewer workers paying tax means a smaller revenue base. If you still want to fund existing pensions and public services, either tax rates rise, spending falls, or borrowing increases. Those are not ideological choices. They are accounting outcomes.

And here lies the contradiction. The same voices warning of colonisation are often demanding lower taxes at the same time. Fewer workers, lower inflows, reduced tax rates, and unchanged pension promises do not add up. That is not a moral point. It is simple arithmetic.

Some reply that automation will replace labour. Perhaps. But automation replaces payrolls, not necessarily tax receipts. It shifts income from labour to capital. Unless you tax capital more heavily, you risk shrinking PAYE revenues while increasing welfare claims from displaced workers. Robots do not automatically pay National Insurance.

Then there is sovereignty. Colonisation historically meant foreign political control. Britain sets its own immigration rules. Legal migration flows are determined by criteria established by British governments, usually linked to labour demand. If numbers are high, it reflects domestic policy choices about workforce needs. That may be wise or foolish, but it is not foreign domination. It is self-government.

And the economy has adjusted around those choices. The NHS recruits overseas because vacancies exist. Care providers look abroad because the shifts still need covering. Universities depend heavily on international fees. Employers search wherever skills can be found when domestic supply falls short. You can argue that this reliance should be reduced, and that is a legitimate debate. But it is the result of policy interacting with labour demand, not external occupation.

So here is the honest fork in the road.

If the argument is for lower overall migration, say so plainly and accept the trade-offs: tighter labour markets, higher wages in some sectors, slower growth unless productivity improves, and potentially higher taxes if pension promises and service levels are to be honoured.

But if the objection rests primarily on visible demographic change while also insisting on lower taxes and unchanged services, then the numbers simply do not reconcile. You cannot shrink the workforce, shrink the tax take, expand pension obligations and keep everything else the same. Something will give.

If the test of colonisation is what the country looks like rather than who writes its laws or funds its pensions, then this is not about sovereignty.

It is about comfort. And comfort, however understandable, still has to be paid for.