A British businessman has sold his firm to its employees, and the progressive commentariat is already hailing it as a triumph of worker ownership. Let us pause before we uncork the champagne. This is not a victory for the proletariat; it is a clever rearguard action by capital to preserve its privileges.
The owner, no doubt, has calculated that selling to staff secures a loyal workforce, avoids hostile takeover, and earns him a tax break. The workers, meanwhile, inherit the risks they never wanted: market fluctuations, debt repayments, and the unglamorous grind of management disputes. This model mirrors the Victorian co-operative societies, which were laudable in spirit but rarely challenged the broader capitalist order.
True structural change would entail universal ownership rights, not a one-off transaction. The real question is not whether employee ownership can work in isolated cases, but whether it can become the norm without dismantling the legal and financial architecture that protects the wealthy. Until that day, we are merely rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.
If the country wishes to avoid the fate of Rome, it must stop fetishising such palliatives and demand a new social contract. This is not a revolution; it is a resignation letter written in ink that will fade.
