In a move that has sent shivers of delight through the anorak-clad legions of thrill-seekers and sentient beings who genuinely enjoy queuing for three hours to be spun upside down while eating overpriced doughnuts, the UK Treasury has announced VAT cuts on theme parks. This, they claim, will be the elixir that resurrects our 'struggling tourism sector.' Struggling? The only thing struggling is the collective ability of our government to identify a genuine crisis from a wet weekend in Skegness.
Let us dissect this masterpiece of fiscal optimism. VAT cuts on theme parks. Because nothing says 'economic rescue' like making it slightly cheaper to simulate falling to your death on a machine built by the lowest bidder. The Treasury, in its infinite wisdom, believes that reducing the tax on adrenaline will coax the Great British Public away from their increasingly cheap flights to Benidorm. But have they considered that the primary deterrent to domestic tourism is not the cost of entry but the weather? The sky over Manchester has not seen a clear day since the reign of Henry VIII. And yet here we are, hoping that a 5% price reduction on a ticket to Alton Towers will outweigh the guaranteed rain, the monosyllabic staff, and the distinct possibility of a wasp in your drink.
But wait, there's more. The Treasury's press release, penned no doubt by a graduate who once visited a theme park on a school trip, gushes about 'boosting local economies.' Yes, nothing boosts local economies quite like funneling thousands of people into a single fenced-off area to spend £12 on a hot dog that contains no discernible meat. The local economy of Staffordshire will be enriched by the sale of plastic ponchos and the rental of lockers for keys you'll lose anyway. This is trickle-down economics at its most absurd: the trickle will be a drizzle of lukewarm tea and regret.
And let's not forget the sacred cow of this whole charade: 'levelling up.' Apparently, making it marginally cheaper to experience G-force in a field in the Midlands will somehow bridge the gap between the North and the South. Because nothing says 'closing the inequality gap' like a family from Sunderland spending their entire holiday budget on a single day of artificially-induced nausea.
The real joke, of course, is that this policy will do precisely nothing. The tourism sector is not struggling because of VAT. It is struggling because of a profound lack of imagination, a sclerotic infrastructure, and the fact that our beaches are mostly pebbles and our resorts are mostly boarded-up arcades. But no, let's tweak a tax and pretend we've solved the riddle of the Sphinx.
In conclusion, I propose we rename the Treasury to the Ministry of Paltry Gestures. This VAT cut is the fiscal equivalent of putting a plaster on a decapitation. But fear not, dear reader. You can now experience the stomach-lurching plunge of the Saw ride knowing you've saved the price of a half-decent cup of coffee. The economy is saved. Hoorah.
