By EJ Ward

There is no building in Britain I love more than a pub.

Not a grand cathedral or a glistening tower or a parliament stuffed with people pretending they’re listening.

A pub. A proper one. The kind with worn floorboards, lopsided pictures, locals who know each other’s stories, a landlord who remembers your last conversation and a bar that has quietly soaked up more history and heartbreak than any museum ever could.

So when the Chancellor stands up and announces a rise in alcohol duty, framing it as sober, responsible economics, it is impossible not to feel something crack.

Because this isn’t about a line on a spreadsheet. It’s about the places where Britain actually lives.

And before we even reached the substance of the Budget, everyone was worked up about it being “leaked” 25 minutes early. As if the nation had paused at their desks and tuned in with bated breath.

Whenever I’ve asked people whether they watched it live, the answer is a universal no. It was the middle of a working day in the middle of a working week.

The top searches beforehand were “when is the budget 2025” and “what is the budget”. That is the level of interest. The whole thing is political theatre with very few seats filled.

But the people who do care are the landlords and........

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