On November 26, 2025, the United Kingdom’s political and financial circles were thrown into disarray after a dramatic and highly unusual blunder: the Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR), the country’s independent fiscal watchdog, accidentally published the government’s entire economic forecast and key budget measures online—nearly an hour before Chancellor Rachel Reeves was scheduled to deliver her highly anticipated speech in the House of Commons.
The leak, which the OBR later called a "technical error," saw a link to the sensitive fiscal outlook document go live on its website some 40 minutes before Reeves could even stand up to announce her policies. According to Sky News, the document included crucial market-sensitive information: growth forecasts, the extent of tax rises, and headline-grabbing policy moves such as the end of the two-child benefit cap, a continuing freeze on income tax thresholds for the next three years, and the introduction of a pay-per-mile charge on electric vehicles.
OBR chair Richard Hughes, visibly shaken, issued a swift apology. “I was mortified,” Hughes told Sky News. “We take it very seriously, which is why we've initiated an investigation and why it will report to the Treasury Committee and the Treasury.” He further explained that the document was “unintentionally uploaded” and that the OBR "understands how the mistake happened," though he stopped short of revealing whether any disciplinary action had yet taken place. Hughes vowed, “I will take action to make sure it doesn't happen again.”
Chancellor Reeves, meanwhile, described the leak as “deeply disappointing” and “a serious error on their part,” according to Sky News. Yet, in a move meant to stabilize the situation, her office confirmed she still “has confidence” in Hughes as head of the OBR. Asked by Sky News chief political correspondent Jon Craig whether he would resign if the investigation recommended it, Hughes replied, “I will abide by the recommendations. And I always serve, so long as I have the confidence of the chancellor and the Treasury Committee.”
Inside the Commons, the mood was tense and, at times, surreal. As the news of the leak broke during Prime Minister’s Questions (PMQs), Reeves was seen looking at her phone with growing concern. Treasury Minister Torsten Bell, seated behind her, passed his own mobile to Reeves, and notes were frantically exchanged among Cabinet ministers. According to BBC political editor Chris Mason, “The sheer absurdity of reading out something the chancellor has not yet announced in the Commons is mind-blowing.”
Conservative MPs wasted no time in capitalizing on the moment, with several quickly posting pages of the leaked document on social media. Shadow chancellor Mel Stride called the incident “outrageous” in the Commons and demanded an inquiry, warning that the leak “may constitute a criminal act.” Chief Secretary to the Treasury James Murray told Sky News he only learned of the leak as he entered the Commons chamber, describing the episode as “really disappointing.”
The ramifications extended beyond political embarrassment. The budget’s premature release meant that market-sensitive information was available to the public and financial markets before the official announcement—a breach of protocol that could have influenced government borrowing costs. According to BBC economics editor Faisal Islam, “It tells you all the measures, it tells you all the big stats we were just speculating over.” There was a brief spell of volatility in the UK bond market, with gilt yields fluctuating before settling below their pre-leak levels.
The OBR quickly moved to remove the document and launched an internal investigation, promising to report its findings to the OBR’s oversight board, the Treasury, and the Commons Treasury Committee. A spokesperson for the OBR stated, “We apologise for this technical error and have initiated an investigation into how this happened.” Hughes added, “I will take action later to make sure it doesn't happen again.”
While this is the first time the OBR itself has made such a mistake, the UK has a checkered history with budget leaks. In 2013, The Evening Standard mistakenly published details of then-Chancellor George Osborne’s budget before he addressed the Commons. In 1996, The Daily Mirror received the full contents of Chancellor Ken Clarke’s budget in advance, though only partial details were published, and the rest returned to the Treasury. And in 1947, Labour Chancellor Hugh Dalton was forced to resign after leaking budget details to a journalist before his official statement.
The context of this latest leak is particularly charged. In the weeks leading up to the budget, there had already been a steady drip of speculation and selective leaks to the media, for which Chancellor Reeves was reprimanded by Deputy Speaker Nus Ghani. However, the accidental full release of the OBR’s fiscal outlook was unprecedented in its scope and timing.
For the opposition Conservatives, the incident was a political gift, allowing them to question the government’s competence and demand accountability. “It is utterly outrageous that this has happened and this leak may constitute a criminal act,” Stride declared in the Commons. The episode also reignited debate about the procedures and safeguards surrounding the handling of market-sensitive government information.
Despite the chaos, the Treasury moved quickly to try and contain the fallout, reiterating Chancellor Reeves’ confidence in OBR boss Richard Hughes and promising full transparency once the investigation concludes. The OBR, for its part, faces intense scrutiny—not just from politicians but from the public and the financial sector, both of which rely on the integrity and reliability of its forecasts.
As the dust settles, many in Westminster are left pondering how such a basic error could occur at the heart of government—and what lessons will be learned to prevent a repeat. The investigation’s outcome may yet determine the fate of OBR leadership and shape future protocols for handling one of the government’s most closely guarded secrets.
For now, the episode stands as a stark reminder of the high stakes and delicate choreography that underpin the UK’s budget process. Even in an age of digital precision, human error—or a stray mouse click—can upend the best-laid plans, leaving political careers hanging in the balance and the country’s economic narrative out in the open before its time.
