Keir Starmer became the first UK leader in nearly a decade to visit China this week. He has been accompanied by dozens of business leaders, including UK car makers. But, given the explosion in popularity of Chinese cars in Britain, it may be the Prime Minister who invests in a new set of wheels.
To demonstrate this, in September 2025, Chinese manufacturer BYD’s UK sales exploded by 880 per cent in a single month. It was the crescendo of a transformation that has reshaped Britain’s automotive landscape at breathtaking speed. By year’s end, Chinese-branded vehicles accounted for almost 10 per cent of new cars sold in the UK – roughly 196,000 vehicles. Five years ago, that figure was negligible.
Car manufacturing remains totemic for Britain, employing nearly 200,000 people and contributing £22 billion annually to the economy.
The vast majority of cars are dispatched abroad. In 2025, almost 80 per cent of UK-manufactured cars were exported, with one in 100 heading to the UAE.
For the past quarter century, we bought our cars from familiar faces: Japan, America, Germany. China barely featured. That has changed with startling rapidity.
MG – now owned by China’s SAIC Motor – sold 85,155 cars in the UK in 2025, making it the dominant Chinese brand. Seventeen Chinese manufacturers now compete for British buyers, from BYD to newcomers like XPeng, Chery and Leapmotor.
Perhaps most striking: many British motorists drive Chinese-made vehicles without realising it. Volvo has been owned by China’s Geely since 2010; MG has been Chinese-owned since 2007.
Several forces have converged to create this moment. China now produces more than three million vehicles monthly – double its output a decade ago – with particular dominance in electric vehicles. In 2025, BYD outproduced Tesla globally by more than 600,000 units. Meanwhile, Chinese domestic demand has plateaued, forcing manufacturers to look abroad.
Crucially, the UK has become uniquely attractive. In October 2024, the European Union imposed tariffs of up to 38 per cent on Chinese electric vehicles. Britain, post-Brexit, has no such tariffs. We have effectively rolled out a welcome mat while Europe erected barriers.
But strip away the geopolitics and one factor towers above all: price. The average electric car in the UK costs approximately £62,000. In China, the equivalent is around £27,000. The BYD Dolphin starts at about £25,000 in the UK versus roughly £13,000 domestically – expensive by Chinese standards but significantly cheaper than European alternatives.
And these are not the shoddy knock-offs of old stereotypes. The BYD Atto 3, Dolphin, and Seal have all achieved five-star Euro NCAP safety ratings. The MG4 and ZS EV have matched them. A 2025 survey found more than 70 per cent of UK motorists would now consider buying Chinese – though four in 10 still have trust issues about quality and resale value.
More troubling are security concerns, which have moved from fringe to mainstream. In January 2026, reports emerged that 700 Yutong electric buses across UK cities contained technology that could theoretically allow remote disabling – quickly dubbed “kill switches”. The allegations remain unproven, but the episode crystallised anxieties about Chinese vehicles in an era of geopolitical tension.
Modern cars are computers on wheels, constantly collecting data. Unlike vehicles from allied nations, Chinese cars exist in a more ambiguous strategic space.
There is also a bitter irony. When BYD announced plans for its first European factory, it explicitly ruled out the UK, citing Brexit complications, favouring Hungary or Germany instead. Britain gets the cars but not the jobs.
Britain has set itself ambitious electric vehicle targets. The ban on new petrol and diesel sales arrives in 2030 – just four years away. Meeting that deadline without Chinese manufacturers is, most analysts agree, unrealistic.
The question is no longer whether Britain should welcome Chinese cars – they are already there in force – but how to manage a relationship that is equal parts opportunity and risk. For consumers facing stretched budgets and pressure to go electric, Chinese manufacturers offer something competitors struggle to match: quality vehicles at prices ordinary people can afford.
In that calculation, flags of origin matter rather less than the figures on the price tag, something the Prime Minister would do well to keep in mind as he continues shaking hands in Beijing. The electric invasion, it seems, is here to stay.
Maria Taylor is the founder of Verulam Capital
