Brexit, my Brexit
"What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England my own"
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Chris Johns. @skiduffer
The subtitle of this piece is taken from a celebrated poem by William Ernest Henley, Pro Rege Nostro, a work sometimes slated for its jingoism, sometimes praised for its patriotic verse. The poem can be read either way.
Words are important; those who used Henley’s poem to stir up British nationalist fervour during the First World War were very aware of the power of poetry. Words are fought over; fights and wars sometimes give us great poetry. Ministries of propaganda feature heavily in totalitarian systems and less visibly in democracies. The idea that words can invoke patriotism and jingoism have obvious contemporary resonance.
The problem, I suggest, is that while words have always been debated over, today, in Brexit Britain, they have ceased to have any meaning at all. There is no debate.
The slippery meaning of words is a recurrent fascination. It’s almost a cliche but one that I love, so I will quote Carroll
‘When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.’
‘The question is,’ said Alice, ‘whether you can make words mean so many different things.’
‘The question is,’ said Humpty Dumpty, ‘which is to be master — that’s all.”
Carroll’s wordplay is a work of genius. His nom de plume is derived from his real names, reversed and then translated into English from Latin. Carol fascinates philosophers and conceptual artists. One of those, Adrian Piper, writing well before - but unconsciously anticipating - Brexit, claims Alice in Wonderland is an “invaluable primer to social reality, better than Kafka”.1 Indeed.
The slipperiness of a word’s meaning allowed Carroll to have a lot of fun. I wonder what he would have made of the status of words today. Would he think that much has changed or, like me, that it’s all so much worse?
One of Brexit’s legacies is a loss of language’s meaning. And that has contributed to changed behaviour: a political class that believes any kind of behaviour is acceptable. Not only because words - lies - can be found to justify and explain. Equally, words aren’t actually necessary, because the consequences of once unacceptable behaviour no longer have, for the most part, to be faced up to. Not being caught lying or misbehaving used to be the cynical objective. Today, even being caught matters for nothing.
A more familiar - but nevertheless brilliant - deconstruction of Brexit is to be found here. Adrian Wooldridge is a leading Bloomberg commentator and ex-editor of the economist. He asks the question: which country has come out worst from the populist revolution? He argues, convincingly in my view, that after the US nod to democratic values in the mid-term election - the Trump rebuke - the UK is in much worse shape.
Thanks to Brexit’s legacy, the UK is now more threatened than is the US. I’ll return to Wooldridge’s arguments a little later. But its important to note that we both end up in the same place, albeit via overlapping, routes.
Brexit’s legacy: debasement of language?
Brexit: it has embraced many things but, in part is an English nativist project that reminds us of the importance of words, albeit expressed in less elegant ways than bards or poets would have done.
‘Take back control’ might have been the start of something literary but the author, Dominic Cummings, rarely got beyond three words. Very effective words, but not ones that will ever make it into an anthology. Not a long one anyway. Of course, they never meant anything.
Also not noted for his poetry, nor is he likely to be, the Conservative peer and boss of retailer Next, Lord Woolfson, this week said, ‘this is not my Brexit’. More precisely, in the context of immigration, he said
it's definitely not the Brexit that I wanted.
He also suggested that it’s not the Brexit that others voted for. How, one might ask, does he know the minds of others? Have they written down their thoughts? On a subway wall perhaps?
Brexit, also slated for its (mostly English) jingoistic overtones, if not outright cry of nativist pain, was never defined in anything other the vaguest of terms. Not in elegant prose, plain verse or iambic pentameters. There are no Brexit poets for us to interpret or argue over the true meaning of their words. There are few words. Only one or two like ‘cakeism’ come to mind.
Leading Brexit commentator Professor Chris Grey uses words in the old-fashioned way. His dissection of Woolfson’s complaint is well worth a look, as is his brilliant weekly blog. In particular, he draws our attention to the simple point that even if the estimable Lord did get his Brexit, there would, inevitably, some other ultra complaining about not getting their particular version of Brexit
We knew what Marx meant by communism. We have hundreds of thousands of his words to guide us, and the millions of words written by his scholarly and/or genocidal followers. Communism has been tried many times, in many ways, but true believers still claim that it has never been implemented properly. Marxists come in different forms and, to this day, despite all those words, argue about what Marxism means. Similarly, non-economists might be forgiven for thinking that all Keynesians are the same: the vicious battles over ‘what Keynes really meant’ reveal a different truth.
Brexiteers don’t have original founding documents to argue over. They have the advantage of no clear and unambiguous statement of principles such as Das Kapital or The Communist Manifesto or Keynes’ General Theory. They can claim that Brexit means whatever they want it to mean. And change that meaning when it suits them.
Brexiteers will forever be able to claim , ‘not my Brexit’, for the simple reason that they never knew what they meant by Brexit. Poems can often mean whatever the reader wants them to. So it is, but much more so, with Brexit. With no founding words to guide them, Brexiteers are unanchored if not unhinged.
Take the controversy over immigration. Britain is taking in more immigrants than before. This is an outcome of Brexit. Economists say that the large increase in immigration, post-Brexit, is a reasonable result of a more rational, skills-based, system.
Professor Jonathan Portes, no Brexiteer, notes the irony presented by the looney-tune battalions of the Tory party joining with right-wing business people against an alliance of most voters and labour market economists. The latter think immigration is working fine, control has, indeed, been taken back. It is the one single outcome of Brexit that can be described in terms of success. Those words about control actually meant something; a meaning, in this context, which was unambiguous and one that lead to the desired outcome.
But those higher immigrant numbers seem to be driving some people nuts. Britain takes in less refugees and asylum seekers, per capita, than quite a number other European countries. But relatively small numbers, particularly when they arrive in unsafe small boats, are still too high for some. ‘Small’ can still mean ‘too many’. Words not meaning what they ought to.
Control (of immigration)was taken back, the promise was honoured. But they didn’t mean what we thought they meant. What we meant to say was ‘cut immigration to very low numbers’. More words than before, less catchy, less likely to resonate. And did everyone know that ‘control’ referred exclsuively to immigation?
Hence the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, might be tempted to say, paraphrasing another poet, when next boarding a Chinook Helicopter to battle the immigrant ‘invasion’:
Once more unto the beach dear friends
Immigration should be a settled issue. Perhaps the only one for the post-Brexit era. But die-hard Remainers still mutter about the restoration of free movement and the Brexit ultras want the numbers to fall to the low ten-thousands. They make for strange bedfellows, still fighting long after the war should have ended.
The Brexit ultras complain about a lot more than immigration. Remainers keep falling into the trap of fighting them on the wrong beach. Critics say that Brexit has been an economic disaster. The ultras scoff, saying that the flatlining/recessionary economy is solely the result of the pandemic and the war in Ukraine. Economists agree that the economic consequences of Brexit have been negative but disagree about the size of the effect. But nearly all agree that the sign is negative.
Not only economics. But also.
When the argument is about economics, and the precise enumeration of the damage, Brexiteers chuckle and just say ‘everybody is in recession because of high energy prices’. Or something to that effect. Word soup with little to no care taken about the meaning of words. Because none of it matters: use different words, even the same ones in a different order, and the result is the same: no evidence convinces, no words ever change minds.
Make no mistake, the economics of Brexit are bad. Unless someone repairs the trading relationship with Europe, they will stay bad. But the consequences of Brexit are not merely, or mostly, about economics.
The Wooldridge article referenced above takes us through the economic damage.
In June 2022, the Centre for European Reform estimated that quitting the single market and customs union reduced UK goods trade by about 15%. In the same month, the Resolution Foundation warned that workers can expect to be almost £500 ($578.32) a year worse off in real terms by 2030 thanks to the productivity-sapping impact of Brexit, with the worst effects being experienced by advanced manufacturing and the north of England. A recent report from the Economic and Social Research Institute (ESRI) claims that trade from the UK to the EU has declined by 16% since Jan. 1, 2021, and trade from the EU to the UK by 20%. Truss’s budget was driven by the desperate recognition that the only way to turn Brexit into a positive was to administer life-threatening shock therapy.
We could say lots more: the 4% hit to GDP calculated by the independent watchdog, the OBR. And on and on.
Wooldridge, in a different way, agrees with me and claims much more damage than from pure economics. He thinks the Union is at risk from both a Scottish and Northern Ireland perspective. That, I suggest, flows naturally from an English nativist project.
Poisoned political and social discourse: Are you Brexity enough?
The political square has been poisoned by Brexit. Prime ministerial resignations are described as ‘Remainer plots’. A significant number of Tory MPs are planning Rishi Sunak’s demise (really) because he is perceived as not ‘Brexity’ enough. Despite being a long-standing supporter of Brexit, despite never having switched Brexit sides, as did his predecessor and so many MPs. Don’t underestimate the sheer number of Brexit ultras sitting on the Tory back benches thanks to Boris Johnson’s purge of sane MPs.
‘Brexity’ is one of those fabulous words; a poem in 6 letters. A recent invention, it was first coined by an FT columnist, I forget which one. Its meaning captures something that is hard to describe in plain text. Like all great art it captures a sense - a feeling - that is, paradoxically, beyond the ability of mere words to convey.
‘Brexity’ is much bigger than Brexit. Liz Truss was a Remain voter who became very Brexity and is much loved, even today, by the ultras. Those same Brexit cultists despise Sunak, an original, consistent and enthusiastic believer in the benefits of leaving the EU. Because he is not Brexity enough.
Being Brexity is about unquestioning, uncritical, total belief in Britain. Belief that economic pain is worth it. ‘It’ is never defined. ‘It’ is the most significant of words because it can mean nothing or something.
Brexity people often behave as if their beliefs don’t amount to much more than a peculiar form of masochism. They don’t mind pain, they even embrace it. Cultists often display this trait. Of course, it becomes even more sinister when that pain is inflicted on others.
Evidence is trumped by belief. Being Brexity means despising wind and solar farms, perhaps even denying climate change. Brexity means getting into military helicopters to visit towns not far from London: a not terribly subtle message to your Brexity friends. And enemies.
Brexity politicians make disparaging remarks about North Londoners, recoiling with horror at the idea that they are blowing an anti-semitic dog whistle. Brexity people believe fervently in the Northern Ireland protocol bill and shout loudly that they don’t care about its consequences for Ireland. The economic benefits for Northern Ireland that flow from sitting in two single markets are acknowledged but dismissed as irrelevant. Brexity people embrace economic damage as a necessary price to be paid for true belief. Without ever being able to put into words what they believe in. Maybe it’s all that self-belief that comes with Eton and PPE at Oxford.
Brexity people welcomed Kwasi Kwarteng’s budget as the best thing that had happened to the U.K. since Margaret Thatcher took office. A budget that took the economy to the brink of a precipice. Brexity people still don’t care about that.
Being Brexity means denying any meaning attached to words and having even less regard for numbers.
Relationships with family and friends have been poisoned by Brexit. To the point where the word itself is now taboo. Keir Starmer refuses even to speak it out loud. To say the word Brexit would apparently cost him the next election.
Brexit is the other side of Trumpism. It means that lying is normalised, even celebrated. It’s a post-truth culture. It’s cult-like behaviour where the consequences of one’s actions matter much less than adherence to fundamental belief. It’s an evidence-free world. Believers delight in the economic debate because they can deny the evidence and, when reality occasionally bites, say that negative economic outcomes are worth it. But, to repeat, they can never say what ‘it’ is.
‘Something, something sovereignty’ has even less to commend it as the opening stanza of an epic piece of poetry.
Adherence to the tribal rules of the game - that’s the thing. The only thing.
Framers of laws and constitutions know about this side of human nature and erect guard rails accordingly. In my view, the debasement of meaning, the normalisation and celebration of lying, add up to the conclusion that our legal and constitutional protections are either going or gone.
Ask any civil servant about use of the word ‘easily’ in the above article Ask a decent lawyer about the meaning of the many words in this article. I would suggest this one:
Peretz takes us, via a forensic thread, through the many and varied way this latest manifestation of Brexit involves old-fashioned lies, rips up long-standing principles of good government and just uses words in a looking-glass way.
Adding it all up
For the record, the economic harm done by Brexit is being felt particularly by small and medium sized companies. Overall, independent estimates suggest we will have lost 4% of GDP by the end of the decade. Bad, but not catastrophic. But particularly bad when there isn’t much growth around from other sources. Knocking 4% off GDP from an economy growing at 2% every year feels very different to taking from economy that seems to have stopped growing, even before Brexit. Combine Brexit with a recession and a dopey macroeconomic policy mix designed to make, in an utterly self-imposed way, that recession worse? Not a good idea. Let’s hope the Bank of England can provide some adult supervision.
It’s the non-economic damage that worries me the most. What results when words have lost all meaning. This is not about rehashing the original arguments about Brexit: The words - lies - told six years ago. That ship has sailed. Leaving a legacy of normalised lying. No shame is attached to the political liar. Indeed, respect for the lie is regularly to be found on the front pages of British media. Wealth, high office and Murdoch’s admiration await those who bask in the warm glow of the tribal lie.
What words have done the most damage? Three phrases that ultimately come back to the same thing:
‘I’ll have my cake and eat it’. Boris Johnson’s denial of facts, evidence and reality. His unshakeable belief that belief is all you need. He still believes it.
‘We’ve had enough of experts’. Michael Gove denial of facts, evidence and reality. The intellectual scaffolding that supports, to the present day, cakeism.
‘Abacus economics’. Liz Truss’ denial of facts evidence and reality. In particular, the rejection of the quaint notion that budgets have to obey the laws of arithmetic, a denial that choices always have to confront trade-offs. Unless they involve cake. The explicit derision of experts is obvious.
‘Invasion.’ According to the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, Britain is experiencing something not seen since 1066. This was actually clever use of a word, designed to send critics into convulsions and stop them asking her questions about breaches of national security and about multiple breaches of the ministerial code. Needless to say, the bait-and-switch worked.
In a different universe words would still matter. In this one, they don’t.
Unless British politics and society comes within a reasonably close orbit of the true meaning of words, begins to debate them again, begins to occasionally mean them, the current circus will continue, as will economic decline. Things will only get better once reality is acknowledged to exist. Everything else, by definition, is mere fantasy. Words will always be slippery, we will, eventually, get back to discussing their meaning. But we need to be rid of the fantasists first.
https://www.tate.org.uk/tate-etc/issue-23-autumn-2011/when-i-use-word-it-means-just-what-i-choose-it-mean
Well said. Shared with my network 👍