I’ve been fortunate enough to walk the cavernous halls of a fair few of the world’s biggest trade shows in Las Vegas, they promised, and delivered, staggering innovation and energy.
Days of relentless discovery: robots pouring cappuccinos, AI so intuitive it seemed clairvoyant, and founders who spoke about change not as a cliché but as a lived reality. These were not just exhibitions; they were global marketplaces for ideas, capital and partnerships.
Yet back home, while Britain idles in Westminster’s fog of distracted policymaking, our competitors across Europe are not just showing up, they’re outshining us.
This year, Gary Shapiro, chief executive of the Consumer Technology Association, the people behind CES, the annual technology conference held this week annually in Vegas, publicly criticised the UK government for lacking meaningful support for British businesses at the world’s most influential tech stage. His indictment is stark: the UK’s presence at the event is “spotty” and underwhelming compared with countries such as France and the Netherlands. Meanwhile, those nations send senior ministers, in some cases even royalty, and generously fund coordinated national pavilions for their firms.
Before we mince words about patriotism and global ambition, let’s be clear: this isn’t some petty squabble over flags and PR stunts. Trade shows like CES are strategic platforms where deals are forged, investment flows are unlocked, and international credibility is forged. It is precisely where the future gets bought, sold and broadcast.
And yet, Britain, despite having one of the world’s most dynamic tech sectors, is looking increasingly like an afterthought.
Consider the facts: French exhibitors now outnumber British ones; Germany and the Netherlands field strong contingents; even some smaller European states pack more visible, government-backed stands. The UK’s Tradeshow Access Programme, once a modest but valuable grant scheme for SMEs, was scrapped in 2021 and, despite repeated pleas from industry, has not been restored.
I have witnessed first-hand the pride and purpose with which other nations approach these events. The French pavilion, sleek, well funded and staffed with government representatives, felt like a declaration of strategic intent. British exhibitors, by contrast, often seemed to be fending for themselves, clutching their pitch decks and hoping for serendipity rather than being buoyed by a coordinated national effort.
There’s something faintly absurd about this situation. Post-Brexit, our leaders have consistently proclaimed a desire to “go global”, to boost exports, attract investment, and elevate the UK’s role on the world stage. Yet when the most visible arena for that ambition rolls into Las Vegas, one where 100,000 visitors convene and thousands of international companies exhibit emerging technologies, we treat it as an optional extra rather than a priority.
True, the government points to its Industrial Strategy and Small Business Plan as evidence of support for scaling firms globally. But warm words on paper are cold comfort on the exhibition floor. In contrast, targeted financial support and senior government engagement send a clear signal that Britain not only values innovation, but backs it when the stakes are highest.
You need only speak to the founders who travelled thousands of miles from the UK, many self-funding their trips, to hear a consistent refrain: without coordinated help, British firms are underexposed and under-networked. One CEO told me he felt “overshadowed” by a neighbouring European country’s pavilion that looked and felt like a national investment. Another confessed that, had it not been for private backing, they might not have made the trip at all.
This should trouble us. The future of British business growth is not solely in domestic policy tinkering, it is in international trade, collaboration and visibility. Trade shows are not merely exhibitions; they are signposts for global relevance. When your government isn’t present in a meaningful way, the world notices — and so do investors, partners and international customers.
Let’s not construe this as an attack on civil servants or ministers. The truth is simpler: the UK is juggling competing priorities, cost of living, health services, geopolitics, and a multi-billion trade show in Nevada can seem indulgent by comparison. But that is precisely the point. Innovation and global business growth cannot be an afterthought if we are to compete with economies that deliberately align industrial strategy with outward-facing support.
Last year I was talking to a French startup founder, and I asked what her government’s presence meant to her, she smiled and said: “It means someone believes in our success before we prove it.” That sort of confidence matters. It turns heads, opens doors and scales businesses in ways that a sterling-denominated press release never will.
Britain has all the ingredients to be a leader: world-class universities with their numerous spin-offs, inventive entrepreneurs, and a time zone that bridges East and West. But without visible, tactical governmental support at flagship global events, we risk these assets being underestimated or, worse, overlooked.
If the UK truly aspires to be a global tech and trade powerhouse, then it must treat trade shows like CES as what they are: frontline diplomatic and economic missions.
Because if we aren’t prepared to support our businesses on the world’s biggest stages, we shouldn’t be surprised when others step into the spotlight, and we’re left in the auditorium seats, polite but absent.
