After Monte Carlo comes San Marino

There is one distinctly Italian trait that requires neither rackets nor engines: turning success into an interrogation of the winner’s dignity. The champion is all well and good, but now let’s see where he lives. With Sinner, the script is familiar. In 2024, Aldo Cazzullo asked: “How can Sinner be the pride of Italy if he doesn’t pay tax in Italy?”. In July, Giovanna Botteri returned to the subject of his residence in Monte Carlo, pointing out that taxes fund hospitals. A legitimate issue that has also become a test of Italian identity.

The next instalment could concern Kimi Antonelli, a resident of San Marino: the San Marinese authorities have also mentioned him. Some hints have already emerged. Back in March, FormulaPassion reported that, amidst criticism from a minority of fans following his victory in China, his place of residence had been singled out. This is therefore not a controversy that needs to be invented from scratch, but rather the risk that a few jibes could turn into a national trial by media. The champion may change, but the notion remains that to applaud him, one must first approve of his accountant.

The antidote to bring to dinner starts with a distinction: citizenship and tax residence are not the same thing. Generally speaking, Italy taxes residents on income earned anywhere and non-residents on income of Italian origin. This is not an exception for the elite. It is simply how the system works. A passport is not a lifetime tax pass.

Of course, simply changing an address on paper is not enough: what counts are the actual criteria of residence, domicile and presence as laid down by law. Fictitious residences must be investigated and challenged. But precisely for this reason, a foreign residence cannot be automatically treated as proof of wrongdoing. Saving on tax whilst complying with the rules and evading tax are two different things. Confusing them is not rigour: it is a failure to apply rigour. After all, the problem is not limited to Sinner or Antonelli. Whenever an Italian excels abroad, it seems to trigger a fiscal curiosity that, in the case of other citizens, we would regard as a private matter. We do not ask a surgeon where they hold their bank account, nor do we ask a manager where they have transferred their residence before congratulating them on their salary. With sportspeople, however, success seems to authorise a special form of moral scrutiny. It is as though fame automatically turns one’s wealth into a public matter and one’s place of residence into a declaration of loyalty. Yet it is precisely these champions who should remind us of one simple thing: the state has specific tools to monitor those who break the rules and does not need public outrage to enforce them.

Second misconception: living in Monte Carlo does not mean not paying tax anywhere. The prize money Sinner earns in Italian tournaments is subject to Italian tax at source. This does not negate the advantage of his Monegasque residence, but it does refute the caricature of the champion who never pays a penny. And knowing Antonelli’s place of residence does not mean having access to his tax return. Before looking into people’s pockets, we need the accounts – not just the pockets.

The best objection, however, deserves a response: is it fair that those who earn a great deal can choose a more favourable tax regime, whilst an ordinary worker has fewer opportunities to move? It is not demagoguery to ask this question. Legality does not exhaust the scope of political or moral judgement. So let us discuss tax competition, fairness and agreements between states. And let us remember that Italy, too, offers a preferential tax regime on foreign income to those who transfer their residence here and meet certain requirements. We cannot label every arrival as ‘attractiveness’ and every departure as ‘betrayal’.

One can criticise a legitimate choice without inventing a crime. One can call for a greater contribution without stripping someone of their nationality. One can demand a fairer system without expecting a twenty-year-old to resolve the contradictions of international taxation through their place of residence. The point is not that champions should be untouchable: it is that they must not be made to feel guilty simply to make their success more bearable for us.

When the phrase “yes, well done, but what about the taxes?” comes up at dinner, simply ask: are we discussing a law, a personal choice or a proven violation? These are three different conversations. Moralising thrives when these are conflated. A mature country should be able to demand compliance with the rules without handing out labels of belonging. And it should, every now and then, be able to applaud without calling a trial.