When the government speaks about reviving Britain’s high streets, championing homegrown entrepreneurship and nurturing our national culture and local communities, those of us who have built independent businesses pay attention. For all of us at Rossiter Books – with shops in Cheltenham, Hereford, Malvern, Monmouth, Ross-on-Wye and Leominster – those values are the very reason we exist. But the recent changes to business rates feel like a contradiction: a policy that risks undermining the very things the government says matter most.

Independent economic modelling commissioned from CEBR by the Booksellers Association illustrates that the average independent English bookshop that is too large to qualify for Small Business Rates Relief will see its annual business rates bill increase from £7,464 to £12,028 in nominal terms by 2029/30. That is an increase of £4,563 by 2029/30. Many booksellers face far steeper rises. Independent bookshops remain disproportionately exposed. The system places the heaviest relative burden on the smallest and most community-embedded businesses. Shops with lower rateable values face projected increases of 51%, compared with 27% for medium-sized shops. That gap directly constrains their ability to invest, grow and continue serving their communities.

I opened my first bookshop after a successful career with a chain bookshop because I believed in the simple idea that books enrich lives. We employ local staff, invest in our premises, and maintain high standards in shopfronts and interiors because we believe vibrant high streets require active, visible businesses committed to their surroundings.

Independent bookshops bring people into town centres in ways that cannot be replicated online. Events such as author talks, children’s story times and book clubs increase footfall, extend dwell time and support neighbouring businesses. While each activity may be modest in isolation, together they help sustain consistent engagement with the high street.

This community role is not sentimental exaggeration. It is documented fact. The Booksellers Association’s The Cultural Role and Value of England’s Independent Bookshops report, commissioned by Arts Council England, found that 92% of independent bookshops run activities and events for their communities – from author talks and reading groups to creative writing workshops. Nearly half organise author visits to local schools. Many partner with libraries, charities and festivals.

As Arts Council England put it, the research provides “clear evidence of the many ways in which the Indie Bookshop sector actively supports communities, culture and creativity in ways that strongly align to our strategy”. That phrase matters. We are not incidental to cultural life; we are the engines behind it.

In towns like Ross-on-Wye or Leominster, where there may be limited formal cultural infrastructure, the bookshop provides an accessible venue for events and engagement. In Cheltenham or Hereford, where there are thriving cultural scenes, we complement and connect them. Each shop serves a different demographic, a different rhythm of life, but the principle is the same: we are embedded.

The practical consequences are not dramatic closures overnight. They are quieter, more insidious changes. Plans to extend opening hours are reconsidered. A refurbishment that would improve accessibility is delayed

Yet despite this recognised cultural and social value, business rates remain one of the largest unavoidable costs for independent retailers like me. Recent reforms may aim to modernise the system, but for many independent businesses – particularly those operating more than one shop – the overall burden is rising rather than falling. The message that sends is troubling.

Growth should be something the government encourages. When we open a new shop, we are not extracting value from a place; we are bringing it. We employ local teams. We commit to programming and outreach. But when property-based taxation increases sharply as you expand, growth begins to feel like a liability rather than a success story.

The practical consequences are not dramatic closures overnight. They are quieter, more insidious changes. Plans to extend opening hours are reconsidered. A refurbishment that would improve accessibility is delayed. An ambitious events programme is trimmed back. Staff hours are managed more tightly than we would wish. None of these decisions are taken lightly, and none of them reflect a lack of belief in our communities. They are simply the arithmetic of business viability.

Retail contributes billions to the UK economy and sustains high streets across every region. Independent businesses, working side by side, create the character and diversity that people value. When one shop invests, others benefit. When a high street feels alive, confidence grows. But the economics of bookselling are fragile. Margins are tight. When fixed costs rise, the room for reinvestment shrinks. And reinvestment is what keeps a high street evolving.

There is also a human cost that rarely makes it into policy papers. Independent retailers are often deeply involved in day-to-day operations. We lock up at night. We host events. We troubleshoot deliveries. We balance the books. When financial pressure increases, the instinct is to absorb it personally – to work longer and to carry the extra weight. Over time, that takes a toll.

If government wants vibrant high streets, stronger communities and to make the National Year of Reading the success it deserves to be, then the policy environment must make it possible for the businesses delivering those outcomes to more easily thrive, not be tested to survive.

Independent bookshops have proven their resilience through online competition, economic turbulence and a pandemic. We are adaptable and optimistic by nature. But resilience should not be mistaken for inexhaustibility.

Britain’s high streets deserve more than warm words. They deserve policies that match ambition with practical support. They deserve tax structures that recognise cultural contribution as well as commercial activity. They deserve confidence.

And communities deserve bookshops that are free to focus not on decreasing margins, but on increasing inspiration. I hope that the government’s forthcoming High Street Strategy recognises this, so instead of spending my time reorganising my business so it can withstand rates increases, I can instead use my energy to continue to make my business grow.