Despatches September 2025

We begin, as ever, with money — or rather the lack of it. The Bank of England has kept interest rates stubbornly high, insisting that inflation is “tamed but not dead,” which sounds less like monetary policy and more like the plot of a horror film. For homeowners, the effect is the same: the fire may be out, but the sofa is still smouldering. Meanwhile, government borrowing has ballooned, raising the prospect of higher taxes in November. This is the kind of news that makes you look nervously at your payslip and wonder whether beans on toast are about to become a luxury item.

Into this atmosphere of economic unease strode Donald Trump, on his state visit to Britain. He came bearing promises of Anglo-American energy and tech deals, along with his usual blend of theatrical bluster and improvised geopolitics. In between handshakes and photo opportunities, he found time to suggest using soldiers to stop migration, reminding everyone that international diplomacy has become a cross between a business seminar and a pantomime.

Across the Atlantic, events were considerably darker. The assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk at a Utah university shocked America, and the rapid arrest of the suspect has done little to still the turbulence that followed. Online, the tragedy became a battleground of instant commentary, conspiracy theories, and disciplinary sackings. The debate is no longer simply about free speech, but about whether we are capable of grieving in silence for more than 30 seconds before updating our feeds.

And finally, back to Britain, where a report revealed that English soldiers receive three times the funding of their Scottish counterparts. Edinburgh is pressing for redress, worried that its recruits may soon be asked to defend the nation armed with nothing but kilts, bagpipes, and righteous indignation. Westminster, no doubt, will respond with a lengthy inquiry concluding that “morale is a cost-effective substitute for equipment.”

So, in sum: the economy is restless, politics theatrical, America combustible, and Scotland underfunded. If there’s a thread here, it’s that resources are scarce, tempers plentiful, and we’re all just trying to stop the sofa from catching fire again.

And what, you may ask, does all this mean for the curious little ecosystem of military surplus — that shadowy afterlife of uniforms, boots, rations and the occasional inexplicably cheerful camouflage poncho? Well, history tells us that wherever governments wobble on spending, surplus tends to slosh about in unexpected places.

If Scotland does indeed secure more funding for its soldiers, one can only imagine that at some point, years hence, slightly better-equipped Scottish recruits will march out of service and their kit will march into the civilian market. A boom for surplus dealers, and perhaps a chance for the rest of us to finally buy a second-hand set of night-vision goggles without remortgaging the house.

On the other hand, Westminster’s ballooning borrowing and the Bank of England’s nervous rate-holding suggest that defence budgets may not grow evenly. Unequal funding often creates unequal piles of leftover kit: English bases may one day be awash with nearly new equipment while their Scottish counterparts trickle out whatever hasn’t been worn to tatters. For the surplus industry, that could mean feast in the south, famine in the north — though surplus traders are, by nature, adept at turning famine into feast.

Overlay this with international turmoil: America convulsed by the Kirk assassination and Trump once again exporting theatre as diplomacy. If the US military recalibrates in response — new priorities, new procurement — then the cascade of cast-off gear will eventually ripple across the Atlantic. Military surplus is, after all, globalisation’s scrappiest cousin.

So, in closing, while the sofa of the economy continues to smoulder, the cupboards of surplus are unlikely to go bare. Uncertainty may rattle ministers and markets alike, but for those of us in the business of military afterthoughts, it is in precisely these uncertain times that tomorrow’s stock quietly accumulates.