If someone does something once, it might be an accident. If they do it twice, it suggests a habit. But if they do it three times, it’s a communication strategy.
Keir Starmer said something rather noticeable in his speech yesterday. He mocked the politicians who’d told voters that “Brexit lies on the side of that bus, click here for your new country”. That made the ears prick up. It’s the first time in a very long time that the Prime Minister has spoken critically about Brexit.
You know he opposes it. He’s a human rights lawyer from north London. But he is usually too straitjacketed by Labour’s electoral strategy to say so publicly. Perhaps it was an accident, then. A slip of the tongue. Perhaps he let his feelings out by mistake and would keep them better concealed in future.
Then, moments later, he did it again. The “self-appointed champions of working people”, he said, “lied to this country, unleashed chaos and walked away after Brexit”.
Oh. So it wasn’t an accident. It was a habit. Then, in an interview with GB News – of all people – last night, he went even further. When we were in the EU, Britain had a returns agreement with the EU on asylum, he pointed out. Farage “told the country it will make no difference if we left – well, he was wrong about that”. The small boats were therefore “Farage Boats”.
That makes it a communication strategy. You don’t do the same thing three times in 24 hours by accident. And that suggests something profound: that the view of Brexit as a failure is now settled. It has ossified into a national consensus, without us ever really realising it was happening. Even the Labour leadership, which is usually petrified of this issue, believes it can safely criticise it.
During the Brexit wars, Remainers would ask themselves when people would realise it was a mistake. The moment stubbornly refused to arrive. The value of sterling collapsed. The EU comprehensively out-negotiated us. Our political system fell into chaos. Small businesses went bust. None of it seemed to move the dial.
The truth is, people are terrible at owning up to their mistakes. They very rarely admit that they were wrong about something. Instead, they turn into mini-Stalins, expunging their historical record and replacing it with one in which they were always right. People have very poor memories, especially when it comes to their own errors.
Take the Iraq War. Nowadays, everyone seems to have been against it. They always knew it would be a disaster. They’d always thought so.
But this is not how it felt at the time. Back then, there was broad and animated support for the war. The Telegraph, Times, Mail, Sun, Express and Star all supported the war. With a combined circulation of 9.4 million, they massively outweighed the three papers opposing the war – the Guardian, Independent and Mirror, which had a combined audience of 2.7 million.
YouGov conducted 21 polls between March and December 2003, asking whether people supported the war. On average, 54 per cent of Brits thought it was right. Now, that figure has plummeted, with just 23 per cent of people thinking it was right.
Fine, so people changed their minds. Well, not quite. That would have involved a degree of honest introspection most people are incapable of. Instead, they simply rearranged the past so that it reflected their newfound view.
When YouGov asked people in 2015 what their opinions of war in Iraq were at the time, just 37 per cent said they supported military action, an astonishing drop from the figures at the time. The effect is even more dramatic in the US. At the time of the war, 63 per cent of people backed the invasion. But a few years later, just 38 per cent recalled doing so.
Slowly but surely, the same thing seems to be happening with Brexit. There was no one central event, no great moment of epiphany in which the nation realised what an error the whole thing was. But slowly, like rising damp, a sense of disdain, mockery and disappointment has taken over. A settled view has developed, without drama or surprise, without anyone even really noticing that it’s happening.
Who on earth could claim that Brexit has been a success? Who could name a single benefit it has provided? Who could look at the promises made before the referendum and treat them with anything but bitter laughter now we know how it turned out?
People will find different ways of framing their box-fresh opposition. They’ll say politicians missed the opportunities, or we had bad leadership, or the EU sabotaged us. But the truth is, it was a failure because it was a bad idea. It’s no more complicated than that. Voters were convinced to support a project to give the political class a kicking. In fact, they simply damaged themselves and their livelihoods.
None of that really matters anymore. What matters is that an anti-Brexit consensus helps us repair the damage.
Labour is not about to commit to rejoining the EU. Of course not. But it is pursuing a plan for a really quite intimate relationship with it: regulatory alignment in many areas, deep cooperation on defence, and now the Chancellor is confidently promoting an extensive youth mobility scheme – something which the party was reticent about supporting just a few months ago.
That’ll do for now. But as the consensus grows and Labour becomes more confident in criticising Brexit, the possibilities grow for the kinds of things we can demand in a few years’ time, perhaps in time for the next election. Single market membership, perhaps, or the customs union, or a bespoke arrangement like Switzerland has. Or perhaps even full-blown membership.
Brexit was always a terrible mistake. But now, at least, people recognise it. And with that, things might just start to improve.