Britain, we have long been told, is a nation of animal lovers. Perhaps this explains why, despite much concern about levels of net migration, the UK’s post Brexit immigration policies specifically allow skilled work visas for overseas workers to be granted for key roles such as “dog walkers” and “canine beauticians”.
It’s been five years since the UK officially left the EU – a decision taken in no small part due to the desire to end free movement and decide who could migrate to live and work in the UK and who could not. A lot of that debate, for better or worse, focused on work visas. The argument was that Britain could be more selective without EU rules, and only admit workers where there was a clear-cut benefit to the UK economy.
But what does selective really mean in practice?
The argument that the UK can be more selective in its immigration policy after Brexit is certainly true for EU citizens: under free movement rules any EU citizen (with a handful of exceptions) could come to the UK to look for work and remain in the country indefinitely – just as UK citizens could live and work anywhere in the EU. Now this has changed, and EU citizens are subject to immigration controls, and quite a few of those who were already here have left.
The UK can now change the rules to let in who the government thinks is useful such as creating a route for social care workers, and to limit access to others by, for example, significantly increasing the salary threshold for a standard skilled work visa toward the end of the last government’s time in office. This – along with other changes – has started to reduce the number of visas being issued for work migrants, particularly those on middling or low salaries.
At the same time as ending free movement, the government reduced the skills threshold to allow middle-skilled jobs to qualify for work visas. Previously, only graduate jobs qualified in the system that applied to non-EU citizens. One reason for this was to mitigate the impacts of ending free movement, given that some industries had become quite reliant on EU workers in technician and trades jobs. When people think about such middle-skilled jobs, roles like plumbers, bricklayers or engineering technicians spring to mind. But defining what is actually ‘middle skilled’ is not straightforward. In the end, the government used an existing classification based on an official qualifications framework. Some of the results are surprising.
For example, while excellence in trimming dog claws, or cutting a poodle’s coat into a flamboyant design may be highly skilled, is it critical for the UK economy? Perhaps not, but “canine beauticians” appear to be eligible for skilled work visas as “animal care services occupations”. Under this category, some 391 visas have been issued since 2021. Exactly how many have gone to canine beauticians and dog walkers, rather than stable hands or veterinary nursing assistants is not currently published. Some other – less entertaining – positions that are also eligible for skilled work visas under the post Brexit immigration system have been used even more extensively.
Screenshot from the Immigration Rules list of jobs eligible for skilled worker visas
For instance, people debating the merits of admitting skilled workers might not have been thinking about “air travel assistants” - the cabin crew and people who check your bag at the airport. In the year ending March 2024, 869 visas were issued for these roles. In fact, Ryanair’s recruitment partner appears to have explicitly advertised for under 26 year olds, who faced a much lower salary threshold (their recruitment materials also ask for people with no tattoos and weight ‘in proportion’ to their height).
Screenshot from SkyCrew’s Ryanair cabin crew ‘open day’
The increase in the Skilled Worker salary threshold appears to have ended the recruitment of cabin crew – no visas have been issued to air travel assistants since April 2024, when the threshold rose to £38,700 (or £30,960 for under 26s), according to FOI data.
To be clear, the post-Brexit immigration system does mean that the decisions about whether or not to offer skilled work visas to dog walkers or groomers are now in the gift of politicians. Before Brexit the UK was open to any Euro-dog walkers who felt like trying their luck in the cut and thrust of the UK’s animal exercise industry, and any up-and-coming Parisen “toiletteur canin” could simply hop on the Eurostar, start grooming and become the toast of the Kennel Club without restrictions. Now they need a visa and a salary of over £38,700.
But political debates have not given us a clear answer to the question of which sort of roles policymakers think the UK really needs to have filled, and when it’s worth considering that claims by an industry that they need to import migrant workers—workers who will be tied to them by their visa—is just a shaggy dog story.
