Arron Banks’s call to abolish key regulators sets up a collision between Reform’s anti‑quango zeal and Britain’s rule‑of‑law traditions

LONDON — Reform UK’s insurgent campaign collided with the British regulatory state this week after Arron Banks, a close ally of Nigel Farage and one of the party’s most prominent cheerleaders, urged a sweeping abolition of several watchdogs if Reform enters government. In an interview, Banks argued that quangos and regulators have become “a bureaucratic drag on growth,” singling out bodies such as the Financial Conduct Authority (FCA), Ofcom, the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) and the Electoral Commission as prime candidates for the axe. The remarks, framed as part of a wider ‘Big Reform Bill’, immediately set Westminster debating the balance between deregulation and democratic safeguards.

Reform has long branded itself as the party of the ‘common‑sense reset’. Its leaders say the British state is clogged with overlapping agencies created in piecemeal fashion since the 1990s. But Banks’s gambit goes further than complaints about red tape. It is an explicit challenge to the post‑crash and digital‑era architecture that polices financial markets, media standards and the conduct of elections. The proposal lands as Reform rides high in polling and converts defectors from both Labour and the Conservatives into a growing parliamentary presence—fuel for supporters who insist the public mandate exists to break the mould.

The FCA regulates some 50,000 firms that touch consumers’ savings, mortgages and pensions. Abolition would require either repatriating those powers to the Treasury and Bank of England or dispersing them across industry self‑regulators. Either route would be a legal and logistical marathon. The post‑2008 protections that govern bank capital, conduct rules and consumer redress are woven through hundreds of statutory instruments. Dismantling them would mean re‑writing large parts of the rulebook at speed—precisely the kind of ‘big bang’ change that markets tend to price warily.

Media and telecoms present a different tangle. Ofcom sits at the junction of broadcast standards, spectrum allocation, broadband competition and the UK’s still‑new online safety regime. Reform figures argue that Ofcom has strayed into moralising and mission creep. Broadcasters counter that without a single converged regulator, the UK risks fragmented enforcement at the very moment when streaming giants, social media platforms and network roll‑outs demand coherent oversight.

Then there is the CMA, whose interventions on mergers and digital markets have alternately delighted consumers and infuriated boardrooms. Banks’s allies depict it as a brake on investment; competition lawyers retort that credible antitrust enforcement is part of the price of stable, contestable markets. Business groups warn that ripping up the regime would inject uncertainty into cross‑border deals, just as investors are reassessing the UK’s post‑Brexit attractiveness.

Perhaps the most politically sensitive target is the Electoral Commission. Reform’s grassroots have long nursed grievances against the watchdog over Brexit‑era investigations. Abolishing or neutering the commission, however, would reverberate through campaign finance, voter registration and enforcement of spending limits. Any reform would have to satisfy international standards for free and fair elections and pass the inevitable scrutiny of the courts.

Banks’s critics accuse him of picking a symbolic fight with ‘the blob’—the catch‑all caricature of the state—without a credible blueprint for what replaces it. Supporters reply that Britain’s growth flatlines while layers of process multiply, and that only a clean‑sweep can jolt productivity. The strategic wager is clear: frame the election as a choice between a dynamic reboot and the status quo, then move quickly before institutional resistance stiffens.

Inside Reform, the rhetoric is carefully calibrated. Farage and deputy leader Richard Tice have pressed an aggressive policy mix on immigration, industrial strategy and monetary policy—most recently lobbying the Bank of England to loosen financial conditions—but the party has also sought to reassure swing voters that law‑and‑order instincts apply to white‑collar wrongdoing as much as street crime. That is why Banks’s maximalism triggers awkward questions: how do you champion probity while thinning out the very institutions that police it?

Law and justice bodies heard the message loudest. Legal sector figures interpreted Banks’s comments—and separate signals from Reform— as a threat to the post‑Blair framework of professional regulation. The Solicitors Regulation Authority (SRA) and the Bar Standards Board have their detractors, but they also underpin public confidence in an independent legal profession. Scrapping or folding them into lighter‑touch alternatives would delight some practitioners while alarming judges, insurers and clients.

Economists say the first‑order risk, should a Reform government attempt an early bonfire of quangos, is transition shock. Regulators are not just policy shops; they are repositories of technical expertise. The UK discovered in 2022 how quickly market credibility can wobble when investors doubt the policy framework. Any shift would need sequencing: stabilise the macro environment, legislate clear replacement mandates, ring‑fence enforcement against fraud and market abuse, and preserve international equivalence where possible.

In practice, the debate is less binary than slogans suggest. Even sceptics of quangocracy concede that sprawling remits and slow decision‑making sap dynamism. Reformers inside Whitehall have toyed with consolidating overlapping bodies, pruning non‑core remits and setting sunset clauses that force regular parliamentary reviews. Such measures would reclaim ministerial accountability without detonating the edifice. Yet for Banks and the party’s activist base, tweaks are not the point; the politics is in the audacity.

The constitutional stakes are real. Independent regulators act as buffers between ministers and politically charged decisions: licensing broadcasters, sanctioning banks, refereeing mergers that decide industrial winners and losers. Bringing those calls closer to ministers may deliver agility, but it also concentrates power—and the temptations that come with it. Britain’s reputation for predictable governance rests on rules that outlast any one administration. Allies of Reform say the civil service and quangos have themselves become unaccountable power centres. The answer, they argue, is to restore democratic primacy through streamlined law overseen by Parliament.

The road from provocation to policy would be steep. Abolishing the FCA or Ofcom would require primary legislation, the migration of thousands of staff and data systems, and negotiation with international counterparts to prevent regulatory gaps. For the Electoral Commission, the political optics would be harsher still: any change must demonstrably strengthen, not weaken, the integrity of elections. The House of Lords—often derided by Reform—would likely become a brake on the timetable.

Markets will watch the sequencing. Investors can accept deregulatory moves if the replacement is clear, the enforcement credible and consumer protections intact. They punish ambiguity. If Reform wants to move fast without spooking capital, it will need to publish draft bills early, consult industry, and appoint heavyweight figures—possibly judges or ex‑central bankers—to oversee transition authorities. A shock‑and‑awe repeal, by contrast, would invite a risk premium.

Opposition parties sense an opening. Labour frames the idea as a threat to consumers and democracy; the Liberal Democrats call it reckless. Senior Conservatives, wary of ceding anti‑bureaucracy ground, argue for targeted reform rather than abolition. Business is split: fintech and some broadcasters grumble about overreach, while retail banks, consumer groups and election‑law experts warn of cascading unintended consequences.

For now, Banks’s flourish has achieved one tactical aim: forcing a conversation on the scale of change. If it becomes the spine of a Reform manifesto, the UK could be heading for the most consequential redesign of the regulatory state since the 1980s. But big bangs carry big risks. The party that promises to ‘take back control’ of the bureaucracy will also own the fallout if things go wrong— in markets, in the courts and, ultimately, at the ballot box.

Correction & Clarification: This article reflects proposals and commentary current as of September 25, 2025.