I used to be a Thomas Skinner fan – now he scares me

It pains me to admit this now, but when Thomas Skinner was on The Apprentice in 2019, I was a fan.

In its fifteenth season by then, the show had long felt tired and its contestants blended into one forgettable caricature: useless at business, lacking in charm, and instantly erased from memory the moment each series ended.

That was, until Skinner. His bolshy – albeit often misguided – confidence made him stand out from the usual parade of tepid candidates. 

He had buckets of charm, threw himself under the bus to protect his teammates, was unmatched when it came to customer service, and his dad dancing was just the right level of cringe to still be endearing.


Staying true to his word, he was a grafter, which is the very quality he’s since used to build an unnervingly successful brand.

After The Apprentice, he kept grafting. Now, across two decades of the show, he’s one of the few contestants to achieve actual fame (even if he shares that space with the likes of Katie Hopkins and GB News presenter Michelle Dewberry).


He continued making TV appearances, his memorable charisma and ‘strong family values’ making him a go-to for light entertainment on shows like 8 Out Of 10 Cats, Celebrity MasterChef, and Michael McIntyre’s The Wheel, while he built his social media following by having full roast dinners early in the morning and using his signature ‘bosh’ catchphrase. 

He was even rumoured to be joining I’m A Celebrity, which would make total sense and may still be coming now that ITV has banned politicians. By this point, I’d lost interest and he’d dropped off my radar.

Until recently.


Over the last few months, it’s been hard to ignore Skinner. His relentless posts – boasting about his humility, now eating lasagne for breakfast, life with the ‘wifey and kids’, and ‘grafting’ – have become some of the most polarising on X.

They’re long, assisted by ChatGPT and held up as aspirational or supportive of the everyday Brit, but they’re clearly designed to provoke. And they certainly provoked me.

Last month, he was deservedly rinsed for complaining about the demise of English fry-ups and a Friday pint at the hands of the ‘woke brigade’ – a tweet so embarrassing he eventually deleted it.

I’m one of those lefty lunatics Skinner loathes so much, and believe one of life’s greatest joys is a fry-up. And when is there a more appropriate time to have a pint than a Friday?

But this wasn’t just cringeworthy. I believe that, like Skinner’s tweeting about protestors and immigration, it was a deliberate use of misinformation to stoke culture wars and divide left and right — something we’ve seen alarmingly normalised.

And last night, Skinner was pictured at a barbecue and beers with JD Vance. That’s right – the literal Vice President of the United States.

The pillow salesman’s influence clearly hasn’t gone unnoticed. And that should ring alarm bells for anyone worried about the rise of hard-right politics in Britain and the very real threat of a Reform UK surge.

With Sir Keir Starmer’s popularity at an all-time low – in my opinion, thanks to his dismal record on social justice since coming into power, his pandering to the right, and his diabolically slow response in recognising a Palestinian state – he’s alienated so many Labour voters, both left and right of the party.

Granted, we could be four years from the next general election, but as it stands, polls show it’s an open goal for Farage. The Reform UK leader, like Skinner, is gaining more and more followers online. 

To be clear, Skinner insists he’s not far-right, but gleefully poses with one of the most extreme vice-presidents in recent memory. The same VP who routinely trashes the very country Skinner claims to love.

The ‘non-political’ Skinner has been photographed wearing a MAGA hat and has called Donald Trump ‘brilliant’, predicting his return to the White House would be ‘good for the British economy’.

What really scares me, though, are his fans. The Bosh army. They’re fiercely loyal – jumping to his defence when lefty lunatics challenge the conspiracy theories he casually shares.

That, to me, is what Skinner represents so effectively: the huge population in the UK who insist they’re not political, want a united Britain, but are irrationally infuriated by many so-called traits of the left.

Skinner paints a picture of an angry lefty mob coming at him with pitchforks at every corner. 

When the reality is he’s stoking the fire and getting a predictable response from the very people he’s gone out of his way to offend.

In another tweet last month, he wrote: ‘I’ve got to be honest… I find it mad how much hate I get on here from people on the far left. All I ever try to do is spread positivity, show love for my country, provide for my family, and speak up about things I truly care about. But every time, they twist it and try to make it about race or politics.’

He may not look like a threat to democracy with his playful family videos and patriotic dinners, but make no mistake: Skinner is just getting started.

He might never take a seat in Parliament, but he doesn’t have to. His popularity is rising fast – fast enough to catch the attention of the Vice President of the United States.

All it takes is one more reality TV series and a nod from JD Vance’s boss, and Skinner could become a dangerously influential figure in Britain. After three weeks in the jungle, Nigel Farage walked the last general election – finally becoming an MP on his eighth attempt. 

Now there’s an alarming chance he’ll get the keys to 10 Downing Street in 2029.

Admittedly, at times, the level of hate Skinner gets is unreasonable. He’s often faced with severe accusations I don’t necessarily agree with – most notably that he’s racist. I don’t believe he is, but he doesn’t seem to me to stand up to racism from some of his followers.

There is an innocence to Skinner. Perhaps he is genuinely just naive – believing his posts don’t have an impact, that there’s nothing political about the things he preaches, or the people he chooses to villainise. If so, no wonder he’s surprised when he gets so much backlash.

Whatever his intentions, he is political. His flirtations with Reform UK and its values have real impact.

And that impact is more division in a country Skinner claims he wants to unite – and more support for Farage.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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