There are moments in politics when you rub your eyes, check the calendar, and wonder whether April Fools’ Day has been extended into a permanent governing philosophy.
Rejoining Erasmus appears to be one of those moments.
Britain, a country with crumbling classrooms, squeezed students, and a funding system held together with hope and Post it notes, has apparently discovered a spare £570 million a year down the back of the Treasury sofa. And in a dazzling display of priorities, the Government has decided to wire it straight to Brussels.
Call it internationalism, call it “rebuilding bridges”, call it whatever you like. To the British taxpayer, it looks suspiciously like another shameless cheque written for applause abroad and bills at home.
Let’s be clear about the numbers, because they matter. Under Labour’s plan, the UK will pay £570m for a single year of Erasmus membership, compared with £78m for the Turing scheme, which already sends British students around the world, not just to the EU, and does so on a fraction of the cost. That’s not marginally worse value, that’s a sevenfold increase for dramatically poorer outcomes.
And poorer outcomes are not theoretical. They are baked into the history of Erasmus itself.
Last time Britain participated, the flow of students was not a cultural exchange, it was a one way conveyor belt. Roughly ten EU students came to the UK for every one British student who went the other way. In 2020 to 21 alone, 152,000 EU students were studying in UK universities at UK subsidised fees, while only 15,000 UK students were using Erasmus to study in Europe.
That imbalance didn’t just cost us goodwill. It cost us billions.
By 2020, EU students owed the UK £5.3 billion in student loans, with only 20 to 25 per cent actively being repaid. Unlike UK graduates, EU borrowers largely vanished beyond the reach of HMRC. The result, a looming write off estimated at 50 to 70 per cent of the total, money British taxpayers will never see again.
So here’s the obvious, glaring, almost embarrassing question. Why didn’t the Labour Government ask for those debts to be addressed before signing up to another scheme?
Not a rebate, not a repayment plan, not even a polite cough in the negotiating room. Just a smile, a nod, and a willingness to pay whatever the EU wants.
And it won’t stop at £570m. According to the Telegraph, Brussels plans to expand Erasmus’ budget by more than 50 per cent from 2028. The likely bill for Britain, £1.25 billion a year through to 2034. Add it up and you’re staring at an £8.75bn commitment, for a programme that demonstrably benefits EU students more than British ones.
All of this, we’re told, is a “huge win for young people”.
Really?
At £5,700 per beneficiary, the Government is paying more per student to Brussels than it currently spends supporting all UK students under Turing. And remember, Erasmus is not just for students. It covers teachers, administrators, “participants of all ages”. Last time round, academics were just as likely to be packing their bags as undergraduates.
Yet in the same breath, ministers claim this scheme will help “disadvantaged groups”. Disadvantaged whom, exactly? Because for £570 million, the UK could fully fund tuition and maintenance for tens of thousands of disadvantaged British students, right here, in British universities and colleges, strengthening our own system instead of subsidising someone else’s.
This is where the whole thing starts to feel less like policy and more like performance art.
The miraculous fixing of Rachel Reeves’ black hole apparently depends on one simple trick, send the money to the EU and stop asking awkward questions. Fishing waters, conceded. Food standards, aligned. Erasmus, signed, sealed, and paid for, before the future costs are even disclosed.
Lord Frost put it bluntly, concede first, negotiate later, and then discover you’re trapped. Once Britain is back in, the logic goes, it won’t dare leave again. And so the price will rise, and rise, and rise.
Boris Johnson wisely axed Erasmus for a reason, it wasn’t value for money. Turing, whatever its imperfections, actually prioritises UK students and gives them global reach rather than confining them to a European cul de sac. Anyone working in education knows this. Quietly. Off the record. With increasing despair.
And so here we are again. Another deal struck in the name of “closer ties”, another bill dumped on taxpayers, another triumph of symbolism over substance.
This isn’t international cooperation. It’s expensive nostalgia. It isn’t generosity. It’s financial amnesia. And it certainly isn’t democratic when no one can explain which tax will rise to pay for it.
Another dark day for taxpayers. Another step towards rejoining the EU by stealth. Another reminder that when politicians say “investment”, they often mean your money, someone else’s benefit.
When does this nightmare end? Apparently not until the last cheque has cleared in Brussels.
By Claire Bullivant
