In the heart of the UK’s rapidly evolving digital landscape, the intersection of technology and policy has become a high-stakes arena. As new laws governing everything from AI to online safety take shape, tech companies are navigating a complex web of rules to make their voices heard. We sat down with Desiree Sainthrope, a leading expert in UK political law and regulatory compliance, to demystify the world of government affairs. Our conversation explored the subtle but crucial distinctions in lobbying at the national versus local level, the common pitfalls of registration that can trip up even seasoned professionals, and the emerging compliance challenges posed by foreign influence. Desiree provides a masterclass in how tech firms can engage effectively and ethically, ensuring their innovations contribute to, rather than conflict with, good governance.
Recent laws like the Data Use and Access Act have intensified debate on big tech’s influence. Beyond Westminster, how are companies adapting their lobbying for regional AI Growth Zones, and what different challenges do they face when dealing with local authorities versus Parliament?
It’s a fascinating and critical shift. For years, the focus was almost exclusively on Parliament, on shaping the text of major legislation like the Online Safety Act. That’s a world of high-level debate, where you’re trying to influence a minister or a committee on broad policy principles, sometimes battling perceptions of being a “shiny tech lobbyist” as one Baroness put it. The conversations are about the future of the entire industry. But now, with the push for regional AI Growth Zones and data centers, the game has moved to a second, very different, chessboard. When you’re talking to a local authority, the conversation isn’t about the ethics of AI models; it’s about planning permissions, power grids, and local jobs. The challenge is entirely different. You need a team that understands local governance, not just parliamentary procedure, and can translate the company’s vision into tangible community benefits. It requires a more granular, relationship-based approach that’s a world away from the grand debates in the House of Lords.
The article outlines a three-question test for consultant lobbying registration. In your experience, which part of this test is most often misunderstood? Please detail the practical steps a first-time consultant lobbyist must take with the ORCL, from initial registration to filing their first quarterly return.
The element that most frequently causes confusion is the second question: “Are you paid to communicate, personally, with a Minister or Permanent Secretary?” People get tangled in the word “personally.” They might think that if they’re just part of a larger delegation or sending an email ghost-written by a team, it doesn’t count. But the rule is quite direct. If you are the one communicating, and you meet the other two criteria—being VAT-registered and acting for a third-party client—you are caught. The process itself is straightforward but requires meticulous discipline. First, you must go to the Office of the Registrar of Consultant Lobbyists, the ORCL, and register before any lobbying communication takes place. It’s an absolute red line. Once registered, the real work begins. You must keep a detailed log of every client on whose behalf you’ve lobbied and then, at the end of the quarter, you file a return, even if it’s a “nil return” with no activity. Missing a filing deadline can lead to civil penalties, so it’s a rhythm you have to get into immediately.
The rules for in-house lobbyists differ significantly from those for contractors. Could you share an example of a situation where a contractor or non-executive director might unexpectedly need to register with ORCL? For an exempt in-house team, what are the tangible benefits of joining a voluntary register?
I’ve seen this happen more than once, and it often catches people by surprise. Imagine a fast-growing fintech company brings on a non-executive director who has a stellar reputation and deep connections in government. The CEO asks them to “have a chat” with a Permanent Secretary at the Treasury about a new regulatory proposal. The director, who is paid for their board duties and is VAT-registered through their own consultancy, makes the call. In that moment, they have ticked all three boxes: they are VAT-registered, paid to communicate with a specified official, and doing so on behalf of the company, which is a third party to them as an individual contractor. They have just engaged in consultant lobbying and were required to be on the ORCL register beforehand. For in-house teams who are exempt, joining a voluntary register like the one run by the CIPR is an incredibly valuable move. It’s about building trust. When your sector is under scrutiny, proactive transparency sends a powerful signal that you are committed to ethical engagement. It demonstrates that you believe in the principle that lobbying is a legitimate part of democratic governance, a point Lord Justice Jackson himself upheld, provided it is open and transparent.
With the introduction of the Foreign Influence Registration Scheme (FIRS), what red flags should a UK tech firm watch for when approached by a foreign entity? Please provide a practical example of an activity that would require FIRS registration and how it might overlap with Bribery Act concerns.
The introduction of FIRS has added a crucial layer of due diligence. The biggest red flag is any ambiguity about the ultimate source of the instruction or funding. If a foreign entity is vague about its connections to its home government, or if the request feels more political than commercial, you need to stop and ask serious questions. For instance, consider a UK-based AI startup that is approached by a technology fund, which is a state-controlled body from a foreign power. This fund instructs the startup to lobby against a new UK data security standard that would make it harder for foreign state actors to access certain types of information. That is a textbook case of a political influence activity directed by a foreign power, and it would absolutely require registration under FIRS. The situation gets even murkier if the fund hints that successfully weakening the standard could lead to a lucrative, separate contract for the startup. Now, you’re not just in FIRS territory; you’re brushing up against the Bribery Act 2010. Offering an advantage to induce improper performance is a crime, and the line can be crossed very quickly.
The EU has seen tech lobby spending grow by over 33%. Given the UK’s rapid regulatory changes in AI and data, what is your forecast for the scale and focus of tech lobbying in the UK over the next two years, and what will be the biggest compliance challenge?
I fully expect the UK to mirror, if not exceed, the trend we’ve seen in the EU. That reported 33.6% growth in the EU is a direct response to a wave of new digital regulation, and the UK is on an almost identical trajectory. Over the next two years, I predict a significant surge in spending, but the focus will become much more specialized. We’ll move beyond broad arguments about the benefits of innovation and into highly technical, granular debates about the implementation of AI safety protocols, data access rights, and cybersecurity standards. The biggest compliance challenge won’t be any single piece of legislation, but the sheer complexity of navigating them all simultaneously. A company could easily find itself managing its ORCL reporting for consultant lobbyists, conducting FIRS due diligence on an international partner, ensuring its political expenditures comply with the Companies Act, and running constant internal training on the Bribery Act. The real test for legal and compliance teams will be building a holistic system that can manage these overlapping, and sometimes conflicting, obligations without letting anything fall through the cracks.
