In a move that has sent shockwaves through the UK’s political and civil society, the Labour government’s newly passed Data (Use and Access) Act is poised to dramatically reshape how government data is accessed and used—raising deep concerns about privacy, democracy, and the future of the British state. The law, set to come into effect next year, grants ministers sweeping ‘Henry VIII powers’ to bypass Parliament and legally tap into vast troves of personal data, with only limited scrutiny. The implications, critics warn, could be profound and far-reaching, especially if the populist Reform UK party—currently leading Labour by seven points in the polls—takes power in the next general election.
At the heart of the debate is the question: who gets to control the data of millions of British citizens, and for what purpose? According to DeSmog, legal and policy officer Mariano delli Santi of the Open Rights Group minced no words: “The bill has provided any government from this time onward with powers which are ripe for abuse. It gives any future government a blank cheque they can use to legalise the use, sharing and reuse of personal data for whatever purpose they see fit.”
This isn’t just theoretical. The law’s passage comes as Labour courts big technology companies, including OpenAI and Google, to “unleash” what Technology Secretary Peter Kyle called a “goldmine of data” for the benefit of families, the NHS, and the police. The government claims the Act will inject £10 billion into the economy over the next decade by slashing bureaucracy and making public services smarter. But critics argue that the risks to privacy and civil liberties are enormous—and that the law’s poorly defined categories, such as “crime prevention,” “safeguarding vulnerable people,” and “national security,” could justify almost any data grab.
The specter haunting these debates is the example set across the Atlantic. Under President Donald Trump, the U.S. Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—originally led by Elon Musk—sent teams of engineers into federal departments to access highly sensitive personal data, from immigration status to healthcare records. According to DeSmog, this “digital coup” resulted in the creation of a “master database” used to surveil immigrants and oversee brutal cuts to life-saving services. The Lancet medical journal estimated that Musk’s cuts to U.S. international aid could result in 14 million deaths by 2030.
Now, Reform UK, led by Nigel Farage, seems eager to follow suit. The party, which has made boosting British birth rates a central plank of its campaign (“bring back British babies,” as Reform puts it), has already established a secretive ‘UK DOGE’ unit headed by tech entrepreneur Zia Yusuf. Their goal: gain access to council-held data in areas under Reform’s control. Since the local elections in May 2025, where Reform won 10 councils, this mission has moved from theory to practice. West Northamptonshire Council agreed in July to let Yusuf’s team access council data to root out “fraud and waste”—a move that critics have branded an “assault on local democracy.” Kent County Council, by contrast, has hired external lawyers to resist similar efforts.
Reform claims these data-driven efforts have saved £100 million since May, though detractors point out that many of the axed projects, such as clean heating initiatives, would have saved money in the long run. The party’s ambitions don’t stop at local government. With national polling at 28 percent—seven points ahead of Labour—Reform is openly preparing for a shot at Downing Street in 2029. Campaigners warn that, if victorious, Farage’s party could leverage Labour’s data law to pursue its anti-immigration, anti-government, and anti-climate agenda on a national scale. “Labour is handing over the means for a future Reform government to legalise DOGE-style data grabs,” delli Santi warned. “In as little as 28 days, a future Reform government could make it legal for a local council or any other public body to share personal data about you with their DOGE consultants.”
The new law marks a significant shift from the UK’s existing General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) regime. Previously, any access to personal data required a careful risk assessment and a balancing of public interest against individual rights. Under the Data (Use and Access) Act, however, the Secretary of State can bypass this process simply by declaring the data is needed for a “recognised legitimate interest.” The law lists broad justifications—crime prevention, emergency response, and national security among them—but data privacy experts say these are so vague as to be almost meaningless, potentially opening the door to sweeping surveillance and data sharing.
Particularly troubling, according to campaigners and legal experts, is the potential for ministers to dilute protections for “special categories” of data—such as religious beliefs, political opinions, or sexual orientation. Duncan McCann, technology and data lead at the Good Law Project, told DeSmog: “Ultimately I remain worried that a bad faith actor could come in and abuse the Henry VIII powers—which were intended to make it easier to add protections to GDPR—to undermine the special category data protections.” McCann emphasized that only Parliament should be able to amend these protections. He noted that, in the past, the economic cost of diverging from GDPR has deterred governments from making drastic changes, especially since it could compromise data-sharing agreements with the EU. “This cost has ensured that governments don’t drastically alter the fundamentals of data protection legislation,” McCann explained. However, he cautioned that a future Reform government “may be less interested or susceptible to rational economic arguments, making radical divergence from GDPR, if they won, more likely.”
Even if “special category” data remains protected, other sensitive information—like tax records, criminal convictions, and immigration status—could be harvested and used for political purposes. This concern is hardly abstract; Reform’s stated policy goals include a crackdown on immigration, radical downsizing of the civil service, eliminating “government waste,” and rolling back net zero climate projects. With the Data (Use and Access) Act in their toolkit, critics say, these ambitions could be pursued with unprecedented speed and reach.
The story doesn’t end there. Labour has also championed the use of artificial intelligence and digital reform to cut the size of the state and boost efficiency. Prime Minister Keir Starmer, in March, promised to send teams into every government department to “make the state more innovative and efficient”—an initiative once dubbed “Project Chainsaw.” The project, inspired in part by Argentina’s President Javier Milei (who famously gifted Elon Musk a chainsaw to symbolize drastic cuts), aims to save £45 billion. Milei has already slashed 50,000 public sector jobs and cut Argentina’s healthcare budget by 48 percent since December 2023. Labour Together, the think tank behind the proposal, told The Guardian its plan would have “Milei’s energy but with a radical centre-left purpose.”
Yet for all the government’s utopian talk of efficiency and modernisation, campaigners warn that the new law could “threaten democracy” by giving ministers the power to change rules about how political parties use data in the run-up to elections—potentially tilting the playing field in favour of the ruling party. The government, for its part, insists the Act will “allow us to harness the power of data to improve public services as part of our Plan for Change, but to do so in a way which also maintains our world-leading data protection standards.”
Not everyone is reassured. “This law,” delli Santi said, “lacks meaningful safeguards that would prevent it being used to enable disproportionate surveillance, discrimination, and creepy invasions into our private life.”
As the UK stands on the cusp of a new era of data-driven government, the stakes could hardly be higher. How the Data (Use and Access) Act is wielded—by Labour, Reform, or any future administration—will shape not just the efficiency of public services, but the very character of British democracy itself.
