‘That could’ve been me’: Gordon Ramsay breaks down over brother’s heroin addiction in raw new Netflix series

With six episodes released on 18 February, Being Gordon Ramsay offers an unusually unfiltered look at one of Britain’s most recognisable chefs. Made with Netflix, the fly-on-the-wall series follows the 59-year-old as he embarks on what he describes as his most ambitious professional project yet: opening five separate dining concepts inside 22 Bishopsgate, London’s second-tallest building.

But beyond the pressure of launching multiple restaurants in one of the capital’s most prominent skyscrapers, the documentary turns inward. Ramsay speaks candidly about his upbringing, his family and the long shadow cast by his younger brother’s decades-long heroin addiction.




“I’m not embarrassed of my past. I got dealt a dysfunctional card. Big f**king deal,” he says on camera. At another point, he reflects on how close he feels he came to a very different life: he was “so close to not making it,” he says, and that proximity, he explains, “is what keeps me going.”

The series does not attempt to soften those edges. Ramsay toldLADbible he was “too honest” to have “sanitised” any part of the project. “We ripped off the Band Aid,” he says. “I need to do stuff that is raw. I need less shiny and more real. And I think that's me.”

‘That could’ve been me’: Family, addiction and a lifelong guilt complex

The second episode of the series focuses heavily on Ramsay’s brother Ronnie, now 58, who has struggled with heroin addiction for much of his adult life. The two shared a bedroom growing up, often a bunk bed, as their family moved repeatedly between deprived council estates.

“I have a brother who’s a heroin addict. We shared a bunk bed together. He’s 15 months younger than me, and he’s been an addict for the last four decades. I’ve gone to hell and back with him, and so I have a guilt complex,” Ramsay says in the documentary.

“That could’ve been me, it could’ve been switched.”

He elaborates on how close their early lives were, and how starkly they diverged: “And so, when that… when that change is so close to you… it’s your brother, right? It’s not a cousin. It’s not a mate down the pub. It’s your brother. Born in the same house, grew up in the same bedroom, shared bunk beds, and so similar… But how can it be so different now? That’s what I mean by that [being so close to not making it is what keeps him going].”


The family’s instability shaped both men. Ramsay has described his father as a “violent alcoholic” and has spoken openly about what he calls a “torrid relationship” with him. “It’s hard, isn’t it, when someone’s an alcoholic? It’s very hard to relate to that, because you’re just … you’re nervous,” he says in the first instalment. “You’re worried about, you know, hitting the end of the bottle and seeing that bottle of Bacardi disappear, because you know what happens at the end of that.”

The Ramsay children, Gordon, Ronnie and sisters Yvonne and Dianne, moved frequently. At nine, Gordon relocated from a tough Renfrewshire council estate to Stratford-upon-Avon. It would be the first of many moves. Speaking on the Big Fish podcast in 2023, he recalled: “Growing up in multiple stholes, you get one's st together early. I just wanted to better myself and get out of a situation that was unfortunate. I had grown up on 15 council estates.”

“There’s always a nerve-wracking moment when you go to another school, another football club. Having to make mates again sometimes twice in one year. That’s incredibly disruptive.”

Ronnie’s struggles became public in 2007 when he was jailed in Bali for drug offences. Ramsay’s own path diverged sharply. Now estimated to be worth around £180 million through his restaurants and television ventures, he credits relentless work and his mother’s resilience for driving him forward.

“The first ambition when I got successful was to give mum her own house, her own garage and a car,” he says. “It’s a big thing for a son to look after their mum. She went to hell and back to look after us.”

Still, the contrast with his brother remains front of mind. “The flipside to my success is my brother’s addiction to heroin. It’s bizarre isn’t it?” he says. “You grow up on several council estates, you’re sharing this tiny bedroom and you’re in bunk beds. You’re so close as brothers, we’re 14 months apart so much has changed dramatically.”



“I have that reminder on a daily basis how different it could have been if I’d gone down a different road and felt the country owed me something rather than fighting for something.”