
The UK has entered what I call the “hate economy.” It’s uncomfortable to say, but it’s true. However, what is more worrying is how profitable the hate economy is for many. Behind every viral outrage, every divisive post, and every culture war headline lies a machinery that rewards anger with clicks, visibility, and ultimately, revenue. Many business leaders are unaware that they are feeding this system. For those who are aware, the question is do they care?
I don’t write this lightly. I’m a business owner, the son of first-generation immigrants, and mixed race. I grew up in East Ham in the 70s. It was not an easy time. As a business coach, I’ve spent over 25 years coaching entrepreneurs and SMEs through difficult times. What I see today is deeply worrying. This is a country where economic stagnation and cultural division collide to create fertile ground for the business of hate to thrive.
If you look at social media platforms, their algorithms are built for one thing only, and that is engagement. Nothing drives engagement quite like outrage. Hateful or divisive content spreads faster than anything else, not because it adds value, but because it sparks a reaction. Every angry share or indignant comment fuels the system further. Hate becomes monetised. Brands and advertisers are caught in the crossfire, often without realising they’re complicit. By buying ads or investing in visibility on these platforms, businesses end up helping to fund an economy that rewards division.
This comes at a time when UK businesses can least afford distraction. We are, in truth, a fragile nation of SMEs. According to the ONS, only 18% of firms expect performance to improve in the next year. Business confidence is at rock bottom. Leaders should be focused on building resilience, growth and innovation, yet instead they find themselves paralysed, distracted by the noise of culture wars, while it could be said that the government underperforms and hides behind them. The conversation around immigration, identity, and even something as symbolic as the flag has become weaponised. Nearly half of British people now cite immigration as their top concern, and in recent weeks, “flag stories” have dominated headlines. A complex national identity has been reduced to a symbol that divides rather than unites.
I’ll be clear. Both my parents were migrants. They worked hard, contributed, and were grateful for the opportunities this country gave them. I’ve travelled widely, and in most nations the flag is a source of pride. Yes, some people misuse it, but the majority should not be defined by the actions of a few. As a mixed-race business owner, I am proud to be British, proud of our flag, and not offended by it. What troubles me is the way our culture and identity are being diluted and distorted, not by migration, but by those exploiting division for profit.
This is where business comes in. Many owners are unwitting participants in the hate economy. They don’t see the direct line between their ad spend, their digital strategies, and the larger ecosystem that thrives on outrage. The mechanisms are subtle, woven into the very platforms and tools we are told are essential for modern business. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: if you are investing in platforms that profit from division, you are part of the system. You are, indirectly, funding the business of hate.
I believe this leaves us with a choice. Either continue to operate blindly, fuelling a system that undermines the very society in which your business exists, or take responsibility. Responsibility means looking critically at where your money goes. It means challenging the easy default of pouring ad budgets into outrage-driven platforms. It means aligning your business practices with values that build, not divide. And it means recognising that sustainable business growth cannot exist in a fractured society.
As leaders, we set the tone, not just inside our companies, but in the wider economy. If we don’t start making conscious choices now, we will all pay the price later.
The business of hate is real, it’s profitable, and it’s growing. But business owners still have agency. We can choose not to play into it. We can build companies that thrive on value, innovation and unity rather than outrage. The UK’s SMEs are resilient, but resilience requires clarity of purpose.
It’s time we looked beyond the noise, recognised the systems we’re feeding, and asked ourselves: is this the future we want to fund?



