As the UK’s trade deficit yawns wider, US President Donald Trump’s 2025 financial disclosure lands like a curious artefact from a parallel universe. The document, released by the Office of Government Ethics, reveals a sprawling empire built on royalties from the Bible, residuals from *Home Alone* and a perfume line that smells of excess. For working families in Britain, the numbers are a stark reminder of a global economy where celebrity brands flourish while the real economy of wages and exports lags behind.
The disclosure, which details Trump’s assets and income streams for the past year, shows his continued reliance on licensing deals and intellectual property. Among the most eye-catching entries: a $300,000 royalty from a branded Bible, the Good Book repackaged as a Trump-endorsed product. Then there is the unexplained income from the 1990 film *Home Alone*, in which Trump made a cameo, and the perfume empire that bears his name. It is a financial portrait of a man whose fortune is increasingly detached from the factories and warehouses that once defined American industry.
But here in Britain, the news lands in the middle of a worsening trade picture. The Office for National Statistics reported this morning that the UK’s trade deficit in goods and services widened by £2.3 billion in the last quarter, as exports to both the EU and the rest of the world stumbled. The pound’s resilience has made British goods more expensive abroad, while the cost of imported energy and raw materials continues to squeeze households and businesses. It is a familiar story for those who track the real economy: the gap between what we sell and what we buy is growing, and with it the pressure on jobs and wages.
Union leaders are already pointing to the Trump disclosure as a symbol of the inequality that plagues the global system. “While a former reality TV star cashes in on Bibles and movie cameos, British workers are seeing their real wages stagnate,” said Frances O’Grady, general secretary of the Trades Union Congress. “The government should be focusing on boosting manufacturing and exports, not chasing trade deals that enrich the few.”
The timing is particularly painful. The UK is in the midst of negotiating new trade agreements with the United States, but the talks have stalled over issues of food standards and digital services. Critics worry that a Trump-friendly deal would pave the way for more imported goods that undercut British producers, while delivering little for the average worker. The disclosure only reinforces the perception that the American side is driven by personal branding rather than mutual economic benefit.
Meanwhile, the cost of living crisis shows no sign of abating. The price of bread, milk and fuel continues to climb, and the latest inflation figures suggest that the Bank of England’s interest rate hikes are having only a modest impact. For families in the North, where I was raised and where deindustrialisation has left deep scars, the trade deficit is not an abstract concept. It means that the factories that once provided secure jobs are staying closed, and the work that does exist is often insecure and low-paid.
The Trump financial disclosure is a distraction from these pressing realities. It is easy to marvel at the billions tied to a Bible or the lingering residuals from a child’s Christmas movie, but the real story is about the direction of the British economy. If the UK cannot close the trade gap, if it cannot invest in the industries of the future, then the gap between the super-rich and everyone else will only widen. And that is a Bible verse that needs no translation.
