It’s time England abolished its archaic Sunday trading laws

Of all the self-help videos that sneak into my algorithm, the ‘Sunday Reset’ is my favourite. In a kind of tribute to Marie Kondo, a Japanese ‘organising consultant’, glamorous influencers manage to make loading the dishwasher and meal prep look aspirational. My Sunday follows a similar, if slightly less aesthetic, formula: three loads of washing, the weekly shop and off to Mass. My Catholic identity is a significant part of my life and so Sunday Mass is an important part of my routine – it gives me time to reflect and think. It tethers my week to something constant and reassuring.

As Christians, we’re taught to ‘keep holy the sabbath’. Although I’m sure theologians will have more to say on this, I have never felt guilty going straight from morning Mass to Lidl. Growing up in Scotland, it’s not something I’d ever thought about. There we can’t buy alcohol until after 10pm, sure, but the shops open whenever they want for everything else.

When I moved down south, I thought it was odd, and annoying, that the big Lidl near me had very different opening hours from the wee Tesco. When I learned the real reason – that the law demands shops over 280 square metres can only open for six consecutive hours between 10am and 6pm – I was baffled. Even more so when I discovered that, in 2016, there were many Scottish MPs who voted against the easing of England and Wales’ Sunday restrictions.

There is no coherent reason for the rules to remain as they are. When you consider that the rules only apply to shops over a certain (arbitrary) size and that even those larger shops are allowed to open for some of the day, the idea that they are doing anything to keep Sunday special is ludicrous. There are no similar restrictions on any other kind of Sunday activity. Making the Sunday shopping experience inconvenient is doing nothing to protect our immortal souls.

Most people in the UK have the same two days off: Saturday and Sunday. How they spend their time over the weekend depends on their priorities. The state should not be infringing on the British people’s rights to enjoy their Sunday. In any case, for people who do prefer a slow Sunday, there would be nothing compelling them to change.

For retail staff, the truth is that even when these larger retail shops are closed, they don’t automatically get the evening off. There are hundreds of tasks to be done when the doors of the shop are locked. Restocking shelves, tidying the storeroom, refolding knitwear, marking down prices – the law doesn’t prohibit the shop from scheduling shifts for staff, only from serving customers.

That aside, why should retail workers be compelled to have Sunday evenings off? Hospitality endures no such restriction. Taxi drivers, hairdressers, public-transport staff, pilots, nail technicians – none of these professions has special rules. They are allowed to make decisions about their schedules that suit them. There are plenty of reasons people are happy to work on Sundays: teenagers and students looking for weekend jobs, or people who prefer shift work to match their spouse’s schedule.

The government’s own figures show that the repeal of these laws could generate up to £1.4 billion annually for the UK economy. It would open up thousands of work hours for people who would be happy to work weekend shifts. Given the rate of unemployment among young people, the government should consider this a gift.

Retail workers and shoppers are adults. They should be allowed to make decisions that are best for them. An absence of Sunday restrictions in Scotland has not ushered in a new golden age of retail. But it has opened more jobs, created flexibility in rotas and relieved some packed-lunch-related stress.

If keeping holy the sabbath isn’t possible from inside a Tesco larger than 280 square metres before 11am, then that’s a conversation for me and my maker, not for the government.

Lucy Rogers is the head of community at Looking for Growth, the political movement to end decline and save Britain.