Britain in late 2025 feels unstable. Inflation is gripping the economy as housing, food, and transportation costs rise far faster than wages, while disposable incomes remain stagnant. Job vacancies continue to shrink, and more than a fifth of working-age people are outside the labor force. Public confidence in the Labour government has collapsed. The result is turmoil on the streets — mass protests across the country, joined by far-right groups exploiting resentment over immigration and decline. Their London rally in September drew over 100,000 supporters, erupting in violent clashes that shocked the nation and underscored a deeper truth — Britain’s social contract is breaking down.
For ordinary Britons, daily life feels uncertain. For migrants, including the tens of thousands of Hong Kong residents who moved to the United Kingdom under the British National (Overseas) visa program, the challenges are even greater. The country promised new opportunities, but what it delivered was exposure to the economic stagnation and political hostility that is consuming the nation.
The BN(O) visa was introduced in response to Britain’s criticism of the Hong Kong SAR National Security Law, implemented in June 2020. London declared it a matter of “historic commitment”, opening a route for potentially about 5.4 million people to live, work, and study in Britain. By mid-2025, more than 200,000 applications had been approved, and over 161,000 arrivals had been registered. Many saw it as a chance to migrate to a familiar but foreign land. They soon discovered the harsh reality of Britain’s economy and its shifting politics.
The job market has been harsh. The BN(O) Migrants Panel Survey, jointly organized by scholars at University College London, King’s College London, and the University of Oxford, shows nearly 60 percent of arrivals have degrees, and a quarter hold postgraduate qualifications. In Hong Kong, they worked as teachers, bankers, engineers, and IT specialists. However, in Britain, only about 30 percent have secured stable, full-time employment. More than one in five are stuck on temporary contracts — three times the UK average. Almost half could not find roles that matched their skills. Confidence has plummeted: Nearly nine in 10 felt capable in Hong Kong, but fewer than one in 10 does in Britain. Today, it is common to meet the engineer driving a cab or the architect serving takeaway food. A program sold as a transfer of skills has, in reality, resulted in a painful loss of dignity.
For Hong Kong people who trusted Britain’s word for their futures, and for the international community judging Britain’s trustworthiness, the message is clear: The promise was empty, the words hollow. Britain’s credibility is diminishing on the global stage
Even for those who are employed, survival remains a difficult challenge. London, Manchester, and Birmingham, some of the main centers of settlement, face some of Europe’s most severe housing shortages. Soaring rents swallow up incomes. The dream of owning a home feels distant. Parents eager to secure education for their children often end up in cramped flats, juggling school and health registrations with little access to public housing or social benefits. Only 25 percent of BN(O) households report home ownership, which is well below the average for new arrivals. For many, savings are exhausted faster than planned, forcing reliance on short-term leases and ongoing moves that destabilize family life.
Cultural dislocation exacerbates the strain. Spouses and elderly parents are sometimes left behind in Hong Kong, leading to fractured families. Children in British schools face language barriers and safety concerns. Parents who work long hours often lack support. The Southeast and East Asian Community Centre in London reports rising cases of stress and depression, caused by limited job opportunities, weak local networks, and the absence of culturally sensitive services. Counselors note that migrants arrive confident but quickly become overwhelmed, burdened by bills, insecurity, and loneliness. What migrants were promised as a “freer life” has, for many, become an exhausting test of endurance.
Wider national politics intensify the unease. Net migration exceeded 900,000 in 2023, marking a record high. Immigration now dominates headlines. Far-right groups exploit public resentment to diminish the sympathy once shown to migrants. Some politicians openly question whether the BN(O) program should continue, while others demand that migrants “prove their value” under stricter rules. For families trying to integrate, this growing hostility adds another burden, serving as a reminder that their acceptance depends on shifting political winds rather than firm commitments.
In May, the Labour government proposed doubling the qualifying period for permanent residence from five to 10 years. Ministers refuse to confirm whether BN(O) holders will be exempt. For families planning around the original five-year promise, this uncertainty is destabilizing — mortgages, pensions, and school arrangements are thrown into doubt.
The UK government’s later exemption for BN(O) passport holders from electronic travel authorizations seemed symbolic at best. Concerns remain over stricter language requirements and more rigorous settlement rules. The sense of limbo for many households is undeniable.
The irony is evident. Westminster once showcased the BN(O) visa program as proof of its “concern” for Hong Kong people. Now, the same government risks trapping them in low-paid jobs, forcing them to pay unaffordable rents, and facing years of insecurity in a country that is becoming increasingly hostile to immigration. The “haven” it boasted about in parliament has revealed itself as an economic struggle masked by rhetoric.
Yet resilience among migrants is genuine. Many have retrained, volunteered, or created support networks through mutual aid groups across Britain’s cities. Younger arrivals remain optimistic that opportunities will eventually arise. This effort deserves recognition. However, it cannot absolve Britain of its responsibilities to uphold promises made to those who crossed continents in trust.
The BN(O) program was once hailed as evidence of Britain’s “moral leadership”. Four years later, it risks being remembered as nothing more than a symbolic gesture that Westminster seems unwilling or unable to honor. Instead of providing opportunities, many Hong Kong families have faced only insecurity. Instead of receiving a welcome, they encounter indifference or hostility. Amid its sharpest economic crisis in decades, Britain has turned inward, using those it invited as pawns in domestic politics.
The contradiction cannot be overlooked. A government that criticizes others for “broken commitments” is now breaking its own. Thousands of families remain in limbo. And the world is observing that Britain’s assurances last only as long as they benefit the government. For Hong Kong people who trusted Britain’s word for their futures, and for the international community judging Britain’s trustworthiness, the message is clear: The promise was empty, the words hollow. Britain’s credibility is diminishing on the global stage.
The author is an international partner and member of the Global Advisory Board, MilleniumAssociates AG.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
