16 Jun 2026
In the second of a series of regular columns, Iain McGill discusses how independent practice can continue to thrive in a post-CMA world…
The Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) investigation into the vet sector was a dereliction of duty, in my view. Its failings were manifold, and in this column I tease out three failings that will adversely impact independent veterinary practices, along with a few suggestions as to how the profession might counter those and survive. Becoming a Siegfried or James Herriot must surely remain the dream of many an aspiring vet. But in today’s corporate world, how might you be your own boss and call the shots?
The CMA failed to recommend horizontal divestment of veterinary practices to prevent monopolies or duopolies. In its decision to launch a market investigation in May 2024, the CMA mentioned the word “divest”, or a grammatical derivative of it, 12 times. In its final decision report, it is only mentioned once in relation to its decision not to do so, stating instead that it would monitor events.
Can we expect the CMA to intervene in the face of further monopolisation? Reports1 suggest that chancellor Rachel Reeves “got rid of” Marcus Bokkerink as chairperson of the CMA mid-inquiry (replacing him with Doug Gurr, former head of Amazon UK) as he planned to do his job and break up monopolies. Pressure from “tech bros” was the main driver, making the vet profession not so much a political football as a political ping pong ball, heavily spun and crushed underfoot.
The chances of this also seem vanishingly small, as the sucking of an ever greater amount of our money into corporate coffers seems amenable to every mainstream political party except the Greens. Would Andy Burnham help? There are many “ifs” to that including, apparently, a risk of “spooking the bond markets”.
Earlier iterations of CMA documents referred to “corporate vet groups” or “large corporate vet groups”. By the time of its provisional decision report in October 2025, the nomenclature had changed to “large vet groups” or “LVGs”. In a meeting with the CMA, I queried why this was so. We wanted to keep all sides happy, came the reply. Digging further into this, an FOI request revealed an email from VetPartners to the CMA stating that “large corporate veterinary group” is inaccurate… VetPartners asks the CMA to use the term “large veterinary groups” (“LVGs”) in its public communications going forward.
Yet, now the public nomenclature has drifted even further. No longer LVGs, but an even more euphemistic term: “major care providers”. As Orwell warned us in 1984, he who controls language controls the truth. Minitru is alive and well.
The CMA promised that it would make it clear to the public who owns veterinary practices. Judging by provisional “branding” proposed by some corporate entities, it will often be far from clear whether practices are independent, and branding may run with wording more akin to a strap line than a brand. There is no requirement to state the body “owning and ultimately controlling” practices, for which many of us called.
The three key issues in my view are: a failure of the CMA to force clear ownership signage rules; a lack of clear public language used to describe ownership; and a failure of the CMA to stick to its original plans to force divestment of practices in monopoly situations.
We should insist on sticking stubbornly to the original, clear and concise language.
A practice is either independent or it isn’t. A professional and striking independent logo should be designed, with a clear brand and the word “independent” writ large, which would only be available to verified independent practices. There is kudos in being independent. The CMA found that pet owners paid (on average) 16.6 per cent more at corporate practices (compared to independents) and that acquisitions by “at least three” of the corporate groups resulted in a nine per cent increase in average prices. The CMA found that clients of independent practices are happier with the service, and that when people switch practices, they overwhelmingly switch to independently owned practices.
A logo isn’t enough – the public need to be informed. That would require a coordinated, creative and professional marketing and PR campaign.
How is it possible to limit the inevitable attrition of the independent sector? This is a thorny question, for when independent owners retire, the practice sale is usually to a buyer with the financial muscle to offer the best price. There are a couple of mechanisms that might counteract that. The first is to re-examine the partnership system whereby a senior partner invites younger vets to join as junior partners, their investment enabling the senior partner’s retirement.
While this option may work for small practices, if the practice is large and successful, budding owners may struggle to find or borrow the necessary cash for their stake in the business. Employee ownership trusts (EOT) are perhaps a more promising solution, and there are examples of this up and running. A movement to sign up independent owners to pledge sale to independents or EOTs might require some sacrifice from the seller, and financial realism may trump idealism.
There are more independent start ups than corporate start ups, which is very promising. I have the utmost admiration for those prepared to take the plunge and put up their plate. Mentoring from experienced hands might make all the difference to their chances of survival; Vet Dynamics, for example, runs a Start Up Stream.
Despite any of the suggestions that I, or anyone else, might make, or anything the profession might do, in the final reckoning, it will be members of the public voting with their feet – or perhaps their paws – that decide how this all pans out. The public will back the independent sector if they have the ownership information with which to do so, if they understand the narrative of why they should, and if there is a concerted clarity of effort to ensure an independent option remains on the table.
In the end, Britain is a nation of animal lovers who also happen to love a plucky underdog. That’s a particularly powerful narrative.