National Insurance: Britain’s Favourite Frenemy
- Jon Dell

- Sep 25, 2025
- 3 min read

National Insurance. The tax that isn’t a tax (but definitely feels like a tax), the deduction that appears on your payslip like a recurring subscription you never signed up for. Unlike Netflix, you can’t cancel it. Unlike Amazon Prime, you don’t even get free next-day delivery.
So, what’s the deal with this “National Insurance” anyway? Let’s take a look at its weird and wonderful history, why it exists, and why it’s currently giving employers the financial equivalent of heartburn.
A Brief History of NI: From Ration Books to Rage
1911: The government rolled out the first version of National Insurance. Workers had to contribute to cover sickness and unemployment. Basically, it was the original “health insurance plan” - if your plan also included standing in the rain, wearing a flat cap, and being shouted at by Winston Churchill.
1946: Post-WWII, the system was expanded to include pensions, sickness benefit, maternity grants, and even death grants. Because nothing says “congratulations on your new baby” like a government form, and nothing says “rest in peace” like bureaucracy.
Since then, NI has been tweaked, twisted, and tinkered with so often it now resembles a game of Jenga. The pieces keep moving, nobody fully understands the rules, and eventually it’s going to topple onto the living room carpet.
Fast Forward to Today: The 2025 Shake-Up
Brace yourself - the fun really begins in April 2025.
Employers: Your NI bill is going up. The rate climbs from 13.8% to 15%. It’s like your boss has just been told their Spotify subscription now costs £200 a month, and they’re definitely not happy about it.
Thresholds: The point at which employers start paying? Dropping from £9,100 to £5,000. Translation: if you’re a business owner, even your part-time Saturday staff are now dragging you further into NICs territory.
The Consolation Prize: Employment Allowance is rising from £5,000 to £10,500. Sounds generous - until you realise it’s like giving you an umbrella in a monsoon. Cheers.
Why Everyone Moans About It
Employers: “We can’t afford this!” They say, while calculating which poor intern they’ll have to replace with an iPad.
Employees: “Wait, what am I paying for again? And why is it called insurance if I can’t make a claim?”
Accountants: They love it, because the complexity means they’ll always have job security.
Why We Still Put Up With It
Here’s the thing: NI funds the NHS, pensions, and the social safety net. Without it, your nan’s hip replacement, your sick pay, and that reassuring knowledge that someone will look after you if you lose your job would disappear faster than a tin of Quality Street at Christmas.
So yes, we all complain, but deep down we know it’s paying for stuff we actually want - even if it feels like an expensive gym membership we never use properly.
If National Insurance Were a Person…
Picture this: NI is that annoying relative who turns up at every family gathering, pockets a tenner from you, and says, “Don’t worry, it’s for the good of the family.”
Sometimes she raises her eyebrow and says, “Actually, I’ll need a bit more this year.”
Sometimes she lowers the bar and says, “Oh, and your younger cousin now owes me too.”
Then she bakes you a Victoria sponge and reminds you that she did pay for the family holiday once. Mixed feelings all round.
The Future of NI (Spoiler: More Headaches)
Will it ever be simplified? Maybe. Will governments keep fiddling with thresholds like they’re adjusting the volume knob on a broken radio? Definitely. Will some think tank suggest scrapping it altogether and just raising income tax instead? Already happening.
One day, someone will call it what it really is - “an extra income tax with better branding” - and maybe we’ll all feel a bit better. Until then, expect more tinkering, more moaning, and more “surprise” changes in every budget.
Final Thoughts
National Insurance is the original love-hate relationship. We hate seeing it on our payslips, but we love what it funds. It’s confusing, inconsistent, and oddly passive-aggressive. In other words - it’s the most British tax ever invented.
So next payday, when you spot NI taking its usual cut, just remember: at least it’s not VAT on Jaffa Cakes. Yet.



Comments