I’ve always been keen on Kim Kardashian, going right back to the earliest years of her family reality show. At one point in an over-excited piece for the Sun, I even compared her to Helen of Troy – a modern day icon of beauty whose bum launched a thousand quips.
Hamilton has a long history of acting like both a princeling and a drag queen in terms of entitlement and drama, while also liking to present himself as the underdog
But my word, she can pick them. Starting with Ray J, who appears to have been talking about little else since 2007 but the sex-tape they made as youngsters in 2003. Then there was most famously Kanye West. And now she’s taken up with the ghastly Lewis Hamilton – probably the most ludicrously virtue-signalling sportsman on the planet, with the exception of course of Gary Lineker.
Until 2020, I had nothing against Hamilton. He’s handsome and rich, always good things in a chap, and has obviously achieved something in Formula One. Regrettably, his myth-making – which some might call self-pity – started early. He was born in Stevenage, which obviously one wouldn’t wish on anyone, but in 2018 he got into a bit of hot water when he said, ‘It really was a dream for us all as a family to do something different. For us to get out of the slums… well, not the slums, but to get out of somewhere and do something.’ Hamilton’s dad was an IT manager who took voluntarily redundancy to manage his son’s talent, while Hamilton himself completed his education at Cambridge Arts and Sciences, a private sixth-form college.
Understandably, Stevenage Borough Council leader Sharon Taylor said: ‘It is disappointing that Lewis Hamilton referred to Stevenage as “the slums” at such a high-profile event. He clearly realised what he had said and tried to correct it but sadly the people of our town, many of whom admire and support him, felt very offended.’
He was shown up even more by the Team England para-badminton player Gobi Ranganathan who countered robustly: ‘I for one am proud to fly the flag for Stevenage. It’s made me who I am today. It’s not perfect, but it’s home. And it has a lot to offer if people just open their eyes.’
Not for the first time would Hamilton want to have his Fougasse Monegasque (the national pastry of Monaco, where he is resident) and eat it. He has a long history of acting like both a princeling and a drag queen in terms of entitlement and drama while also liking to present himself as the underdog. (He accused Max Verstappen of ‘dangerous driving’ in 2021; dressed down the Mercedes crew in public after losing in 2022; and turned on his long-time friend Nico Rosberg during the 2014 season.)
On the other hand, there’s no doubt that Hamilton has experienced terrible racism, though far less so in Britain than from Spanish fans, especially at the Circuit de Catalunya when some dressed up in blackface and Afro wigs and carried banners claiming to be ‘Hamilton’s Family.’
These two strands – extremely privileged man with things to feel justifiably sad about – came to a head in 2020 when Hamilton (and his dog) went out on a boat somewhere gorgeous and shared the following thoughts online: ‘Took the day off on Tuesday, a day for myself and no phone, no training, just me and Roscoe on the water. I had time to reflect on where we are in the world today, every day I see something upsetting happening, people being abused, people suffering, volcanoes erupting, explosions, oceans and forest’s [sic] being destroyed. 2020 is such a heavy year. But it gives me hope seeing people come together, fighting for justice…cleaning up oceans and just generally doing more for our planet…I’m sending you all positive waves.’
It’s true that Hamilton sold his private jet in 2019 as part of his plan to save the earth. His candy-apple-red Bombardier Challenger cost £16.5 million, which according to the Paradise Papers he swerved paying £3.3 million VAT on in 2013 (his lawyers at the time said a tax barrister review found the structure was lawful and it was incorrect to say no VAT had been paid on any of the arrangements). Luckily, he can still afford to charter them – and what would life be without a bit of partying on super-yachts, notorious for being super-polluters. A 2024 report by Oxfam states that ‘The carbon footprint of a super-rich European, accumulated from nearly a week of using super yachts and private jets, matches the lifetime carbon footprint of someone in the world’s poorest 1 per cent.’
Hamilton is believed to earn a basic salary of around £48 million driving for Ferrari, but far more when his sponsorships deals are added; his net worth is believed to be over £400 million. However, he appears to have a beef with the billionaire community, according to a podcast in 2023. In it he opines glumly that the wealth disparity is something ‘I struggle with every day.’ (The way I ‘struggle’ with eating a baked Camembert, I’d wager, judging from the lovely lifestyle he lives with justifiable relish.)
He added that ‘You shouldn’t be able to have billions… I think there should be a limit to how much you can have because there’s enough to go around for everyone.’
This isn’t just the usual tone-deaf blathering of an ultra-privileged man bitching at those with even more toys; this is a man dating a woman who is very much a billionaire, perhaps even twice over in American money. We certainly won’t be hearing KK taking a poke at trillionaires any time soon.
Perhaps this is the difference between the ways our two nations treat money. Americans glory in being rich, while many rich Britons pretend they’re not. Most rich Americans stay in the land of their birth and pay their taxes; many rich Britons move abroad and evade theirs. One online commentator said that Hamilton has ‘literally structured his life to pay as little tax as possible’. And indeed, by living first in Switzerland and then Monaco he has certainly paid much less tax than if he lived in Britain – though in 2015 he told the Sunday Times magazine that he still paid tax in the UK on money earned here.
It’s at this point that my partiality becomes a little hazy; I wouldn’t want to give a quarter of my income to some useless government to fritter away, either. And as a sportsman, he can’t be said to have signed on to some rebel creed which makes the sight of rock stars upping sticks to avoid tax so amusing. The difference is that I have never heard a pop star calling for a wealth cap.
To give Hamilton credit, he’s not as annoying as those British MPs who back a wealth tax, which is always conveniently estimated as above their own worth once their nice pile in North London is taken into consideration. They often refer to their pin-ups, the monumentally irritatingly-named ‘Patriotic Millionaires’, a group founded in the USA in 2010 and spreading here in 2021. It’s the ultimate elitist club – look how loaded I am, I’m dying to give it away. To which it is hard not to reply, why not lead by example? Still, I do believe that Lewis Hamilton should give it a go; it may prove good for his soul, which does appear to be in ceaseless turmoil despite his achievements. He could turn himself from a multi-millionaire into a decent, hard-working millionaire who has no chance of becoming a beastly billionaire.
But, paradoxically, while talking about there being enough to go around, Hamilton seems intent on signing up to even more lucrative sponsorship deals – or becoming a ‘brand ambassador’ to give it the pretentious modern title. Only last month his alliance with Perplexity AI was announced thus:
‘A collaboration that brings together the relentless pursuit of speed, precision, and curiosity. This partnership unites a world-class athlete and icon with a platform built for those who never stop asking, learning, and moving forward. Lewis Hamilton is not just a Seven-Time Formula One World Champion – he’s a symbol of focus, intention, and constant evolution. Lewis says, “Whether it’s in sport or life, you can never stop asking questions. The best never stop learning. Curiosity is fuel, and that’s why I like using Perplexity.” On and off the track, Lewis leads by example: always growing, always pushing, always questioning what’s possible. At Perplexity, we build for people like Lewis – those who seek clarity in a noisy world.’
As confused fans have wondered, how can a man bent on saving the planet one plant-based breakfast at a time form an alliance with an organisation which will use up vast natural resources? But look at that name: ‘perplexity’. Should we expect logical thinking from sportsmen, magnificent specimens that they are? We wouldn’t expect a great thinker to be a great athlete. Maybe the only conclusion to draw is that handsome is as handsome does – and ponder that while Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend may have the most famous bottom in the world, his is even more remarkable. Because he can talk out of his.
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