Where is post-Brexit Britain?

I always try, and am usually able, to create an overall theme to each post on this blog. There are times, though, and this is one of them, when there is no particular shape to the latest Brexit-related events. Instead, there has been a ragbag of news, but that in itself is revealing of a more general drift.

Brexit still not done

So where to start? Perhaps with that part of Brexit which is still not, in the most basic meaning of the term, ‘done’: Gibraltar. As long ago as April, under the previous government, it was being reported that a deal was finally ‘imminent’, but nothing came of it. Last time I wrote about this, in October, I suggested that completing the deal was a key test of Keir Starmer’s ‘reset’. That wasn’t an unreasonable claim given that, just a few days afterwards, Nick Thomas-Symonds, the EU Relations Minister, said that doing so was “at the heart of” the reset policy. Yet the territory remains in post-Brexit limbo, leading to a large protest against the delays at the end of October.

Some of the urgency has been removed by the latest postponement of the new EU Entry/exit System, but that still leaves an inherently fragile ad hoc arrangement in place. Their fragility is well-illustrated by a row that broke out two weeks ago. In brief, under the ad hoc arrangements, Gibraltarians may enter Spain without having their passports stamped, so long as they have their Gibraltar ID card. However, last Friday fortnight, the Spanish border police instigated a check and stamp regime. It only lasted for a couple of hours before being countermanded by a higher official, but seems to have arisen because the local border commander did not have clear orders about whether or both Schengen area controls should be applied or not.

This is the second time the same local commander has taken this action, apparently from concern that he and his officers may be in breach of EU law by not applying normal controls. That is now a matter for the courts to decide, but it illustrates the consequences of the lack of a clear, formal agreement. Of that, the latest reports suggest only that the barriers to a deal are of a “deeply technical nature”, but that was also said last April.

In the meantime, the entire saga of Brexit and Gibraltar is the subject of an excellent new House of Commons Library Research Briefing by Stefan Fella, which amongst other things serves as a reminder of the complex issues which were obvious from the outset, but which Brexiters denounced as ‘Project Fear’. There are also signs of the situation receiving more media coverage in the UK, with a BBC Radio Four documentary on ‘the Rock that Brexit forgot” airing this week.

Reset still barely started

It may be that an agreement about Gibraltar will emerge this month or, perhaps more likely, in the new year, and be a sign of, so to speak, a reset of the reset, which began with some energy but appears to have foundered since. That seems possible because there is a sense in which any real progress was always likely to be deferred until the new EU Commission, and the second presidency of Ursula von der Leyen, were confirmed. This has now happened and, relatedly (though not necessarily directly so), Starmer has been invited to meet with EU leaders next February, the first time a British Prime Minister has done so since the UK left the EU.

That meeting is billed as being focused on security and defence issues, but the already planned EU-UK summit, which will take place next year, is likely to have a wider remit, taking in trade and regulatory relationships. A good indication of what the EU agenda for this might be was provided recently in a Bruegel policy briefing written by Ignacio García Bercero, a significant figure in the world of EU trade policy. Many of the issues it covers will be familiar to readers of the blog, and without rehearsing them here the main point I would make about the document is that it is deeply pragmatic, in the sense of recognizing both the constraints of UK and EU red lines and the possibilities that remain despite them.

That’s important because there are people, on both sides of the Brexit divide, who persist in saying that there is no prospect at all of improvements, whether they ascribe this to EU ‘punishment’ or a kind of Brexit ‘hair-shirtism’. On the remain side, in particular, there is sometimes the impression given that, for so long as Starmer remains committed to the ‘hard Brexit’ negotiated by the Tories, nothing can change. But that ignores the way that, even within the Frost-Johnson agreements, there was scope for a closer relationship, illustrated by the non-binding Political Declaration which they signed, even though they chose not pursue it. In other words, even within hard Brexit there exists a range of hardness.

Obviously, the significance of that shouldn’t be overstated. There’s a big gulf between the softest of hard Brexits and the hardest of soft Brexits. But there is an agenda, that in the past I’ve called ‘maximalist’, which whilst still ‘hard Brexit’ is different to Johnson-Frost, of the sort articulated by Peter Foster in the UK and, now, by García Bercero. Of particular relevance is a point the latter makes early on, about the apparent dropping of the UK red line against ECJ involvement under the Labour government. More generally, his key point is that “a repetition of Brexit discussions can be avoided if there is political will to explore the margins of flexibility around the red lines.”

Political will (or won’t)?

That clearly begs the core question of whether there is such a political will. If voices like García Bercero’s hold sway within the EU then, from that side, the answer might be yes. But what about the UK? One sign of a new seriousness might be the announcement of a new post of a second Permanent Secretary to the Cabinet Office, with a specific focus on the EU, and undertaking a ‘sherpa’ role there. The interview panel will, with depressing irony, be chaired by Gisela Stuart, who chaired the Vote Leave campaign, though not because of that but because she is now the First Civil Service Commissioner. It can only be wondered what attributes she will prioritise for the post, but the appointment will be made by Starmer.

At all events, the appointee is expected to be a heavyweight figure, and it is hard to see the point of creating this role unless it reflects real political commitment to the reset. That said, my general observation about this government is that it seems to place a premium on creating structures (delivery groups etc.) as if these, in themselves, solve problems. They don’t, although they may be a necessary precondition of doing so, and in particular they don’t, in and of themselves, create political will.

In this particular case, it remains to be seen what the political will is as regards a youth mobility scheme (YMS) which, even if under some different label, is evidently going to be a, if not the, key issue for the EU (a “threshold issue” as García Bercero calls it). We’ve repeatedly seen the Labour government dismiss this on the absurd grounds that it would somehow amount to ‘free movement of people’, but the question is how intransigent it will be.

As always, the problem is that Labour remains deeply neuralgic about anything relating to immigration. This was illustrated by Starmer’s response to the latest immigration figures, which he denounced as showing that “Brexit was used … to turn Britain into a one nation experiment in open borders”. It’s nonsense, and what’s worse is that it is the same nonsense that Farage is talking. What actually happened was that Brexit was used to create exactly what the Brexiters, including Farage, said they wanted, a wholly UK-determined immigration policy which used a points system set according to the needs of the UK economy.

For various reasons, not all economic, that led to an increase in the net migration figure, and a re-distribution of the countries of origin of immigrants away from the EU. That figure is now falling, also for various reasons, but these include new restrictions which are doing profound damage, especially to social care and to universities. What the Labour government needs, as Professor Jonathan Portes, the leading academic expert on this policy area, argues, is to be honest about immigration.

That raises bigger issues than that of a YMS with the EU, but honesty about that would, just in itself, be desirable. It’s an oversimplification, but not a huge one, to say that Britain left the single market, specifically, to appease public hostility to immigration. The country is paying a substantial economic price for that, yet without even assuaging the hostility. It is certainly freedom of movement of people, rather than a commitment to regulatory divergence, which explains why Starmer’s government will not even entertain the idea of single market membership, and is apparently willing to go on paying that price.

So the question now is whether that extends even to the YMS, with Starmer sacrificing things he undoubtedly wants, and the country undoubtedly needs – most obviously an SPS deal – on the altar of this immigration fetish. Just how high a price are we all meant to pay to pander to the sensibilities of a noisy minority who will never be satisfied anyway? It’s not even as if agreeing a YMS would take much political courage: opinion polls suggest 58% of the public think it is a good idea, and only 10% that it is a bad idea. Some reports in the last few days (£) suggest the government is coming round to agreeing some version of it, and my guess is that this will be true. If so, it would have been far better in terms of creating conditions for a maximalist reset to have accepted the idea wholeheartedly rather than being dragged to it reluctantly.

Meanwhile, things don’t stand still

With the new Commission in place, and Trump installed in the White House to concentrate minds, next year is probably going to be the crucial one in determining whether or not there is going to be any kind of substantive reset in UK-EU relations (though it would take longer than that to be brought to fruition). Even for that to happen needs some urgency of purpose to be brought to bear. For the reality is that any reset is not happening against a static background. That is most obvious in relation to the broad geo-political situation. But it’s also the case UK-EU relations are themselves changing, irrespective of any negotiations about them.

Two recent examples illustrate this (others can be found in the latest UKICE regulatory divergence tracker). One is the only now emerging realization that new EU product safety rules mean that British (in the sense of Great Britain) companies selling goods to the EU (including Northern Ireland) need a ‘responsible person’ within the single market to confirm compliance. As with so much of the Brexit-created red tape this will impact most heavily on small businesses, and it comes into force at the end of next week. At a stroke, this is a new non-tariff barrier to trade with the EU, and a thickening of the Irish Sea border. It won’t, to my understanding, be helped by the government’s Product Regulation and Metrology Bill because the issue isn’t alignment with EU standards, it is the certification of compliance (i.e. a version of the issue, discussed many times on this blog, that ‘alignment doesn’t mean access’).

A second example is that the EU Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism (CBAM) is now beginning to bite (£) on British exporters to the EU, again with small businesses worst affected. In some ways it is a similar issue to the product safety one, in that exporters now need to provide evidence of the embedded carbon content of their products. However ultimately it will also mean not just reporting but, if necessary, tax being levied on that content.

Both of these examples are potentially within the scope of a UK-EU reset, though the word ‘potentially’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting. The first of them might conceivably be dealt with through formal dynamic alignment (note the tentative formulation). Less tentatively, because it is within the scope of the existing Trade and Cooperation Agreement, the second of them could be addressed by linking both UK-EU Emissions Trading Systems (ETS) and CBAMs (the UK version has yet to be created). Linkages of these are two different, though potentially related things, as García Bercero says. That is, it might be possible to link either, both, or neither (it’s also worth noting, as trade expert Sam Lowe explains, that these different possibilities could have different implications for the UK’s relationship with Trump’s US).

Everything is connected

Although I’ve bracketed that last point, because in a sense it’s a technicality, it does indicate the deep inseparability of all of the issues facing post-Brexit UK. That is to say, the more-or-less economic questions of terms of trade, including regulatory barriers to trade, with the EU cannot ultimately be separated from geo-political issues of the UK’s relations with the rest of the world. This means that not only do discussions of UK-EU relations take place within a dynamic landscape (e.g. new EU regulations) but also they do so as part of the UK’s positioning in an international order which is itself rapidly changing, and not only because of Trump’s coming presidency.

There are many moving parts in this, but they mean that my argument in a post at the end of the summer that the government needs a post-Brexit strategy already looks inadequate. I talked there as if UK-EU relations are a discrete issue. I’m not sure I actually meant to imply that but, at all events, it is now quite obvious that such are relations are imbricated in the entirety of UK economic, industrial, foreign and defence policy. It is equally obvious that articulating what this means for the UK is an urgent task.

There are limited signs that Starmer understands this, especially in the major speech he gave on foreign policy at the Lord Mayor’s Banquet this week. In it, he did at least attempt to do what Olivia O’Sullivan, Director of the UK in the World programme at Chatham House recently urged and “make an energetic case” to voters explaining the domestic importance of foreign policy and international relations. Whether it was as ‘energetic’ as needed is another question, but it was certainly an attempt to make the case. However, the content was anodyne, and didn’t give any real sense of the choices and trade-offs the UK faces.

By that, I don’t so much mean the headline reports that Starmer denied there was any need to choose between Trump’s US and the EU. That was entirely unsurprising, not least because, at this point, it’s not yet clear exactly what those choices may be (a situation which is unlikely to last, however). Rather, what was missing was an acknowledgment that Brexit has de-anchored the UK internationally, and created new constraints on its options. Instead, there were airy platitudes about Britain being “a strong, still point in a changing world.” Which, as politics professor Simon Usherwood of the Open University put it “leaves us... somewhere. With all the talk of a reset, there remains minimal evidence of a plan on Europe, in either abstract or concrete terms, which intrinsically weakens the ability to pursue whatever course is taken.”

Where is post-Brexit Britain?

It’s not enough. At the very least, there needs to be an explicit acknowledgment that the immediate post-Brexit strategy of ‘Global Britain’, already effectively abandoned by the previous government, does not provide a framework for the present government’s policy decisions. Which in turn requires specifying the framework which does. That could and should mean that where closer relations with the EU come into conflict with other demands it is the former which will be prioritised now. That wouldn’t be outrageous. Only the other day Foreign Secretary David Lammy said, as he has in the past, that a European reset is the UK’s “number one priority in foreign policy”.

Yet Starmer did not say or even imply that. Why not? Is this government policy or not? Without such consistency, Starmer’s promise that his country will be a reliable, dependable, and predictable international actor is virtually meaningless, since it gives no insight into where its priorities lie. How, then, can its actions be predicted? Conversely, unless relations with the EU are prioritised, how seriously should anyone, most notably the EU, take the reset?

That wouldn’t, in itself, entail an argument to ‘reverse Brexit’ by seeking to rejoin the EU in any form (which Starmer again ruled out in his speech). But it would entail publicly acknowledging that Brexit has created new problems, not new opportunities. Doing so would attract a flaying from the pro-Brexit commentariat, but would chime with public opinion by recognizing both that Brexit has not been a success and that there isn’t much public appetite to return to the Brexit battles in the immediate future*. In the longer run, admitting that lack of success would also be a necessary step to re-visiting Brexit itself, of course, but even those who want to rejoin at the earliest possible moment need to recognize that, whatever ‘earliest possible’ means, the UK needs, at least, an interim strategy.

However, I don’t really expect Starmer will do any of this. At best, he may put more energy into reset discussions with the EU in the coming year. At worst, he will drift along without much happening to show for the reset apart from warmish words. In that sense, the ragbag of this fortnight's Brexit events reflects more than my failure to find any shape to them. Rather, it captures the shapelessness of Labour’s post-Brexit policies and, more fundamentally, the shapelessness of the UK’s post-Brexit condition. It is a grim irony that on one edge of Europe there is war and civil unrest in countries which dearly wish to anchor their place in the world by joining the EU whilst here, on the other edge, we have given that prize away in order to drift into confusion.

The final words of Starmer’s Lord Mayor’s Banquet speech were that “Britain is back.” He didn’t say where.

 

 

*That is, support for holding another referendum doesn’t begin to approach a majority until posited as ten years hence. Interestingly, put at that time scale, Reform voters are the most supportive of it.  Admittedly the polling data I cited in the link is over a year old, so things may have changed but I haven’t found anything more recent on the specific question of timescales.

I can’t even bring myself to discuss the cretinous attempt to resurrect ‘Mutual Enforcement’ as an ‘alternative arrangement’ for Northern Ireland `(the Allister Bill) but may come back to it next time. It isn’t going to pass, but it does have a purpose in the context of the forthcoming ‘consent vote’ under the Windsor Framework in the Northern Ireland Assembly. For now, see the Best for Britain Blog on this, which notes, correctly but over-politely, that “the notion that such a process of mutual enforcement is remotely achievable is remarkably misguided.” 

Post-Brexit Britain’s Trump problem goes much deeper than trade tariffs

Brexit is back in the news again. That is partly the aftermath of the budget, discussed in my previous post, which was followed by speeches at the Mansion House by Chancellor Rachel Reeves and the Governor of the Bank of England Andrew Bailey. The latter highlighted the economic damage of Brexit and called for a re-building of relations with the EU “while respecting the decision of the British people”.

It's true that, as economics commentator Simon Nixon observed, this marked a notable break with official Brexit omerta. Still, it was not exactly dynamite stuff. The economics are well-known and the political message was identical to the government’s own stated policy. Indeed, Reeves’ own Mansion House speech said the same thing. In that sense, Bailey’s comments showed the limitations of government policy in that, as he must know, closer relations with the EU will only marginally reduce the ongoing costs of Brexit. So, despite being accused by Matthew Lynn in The Spectator of “reopening the Brexit debate”, Bailey hardly did that, unless even the barest mention of Brexit is now to be described that way.

If his comments attracted attention, it was mainly because of the wider context of now intense discussion about what the coming Trump presidency is going to mean for post-Brexit Britain. In my previous post I suggested that ‘hot takes’ on this were not wise, and to an extent I think that is still the case. Apart from the fact that he isn’t yet in office, he is by any standards a capricious politician. What he may actually do when he comes back to power is highly unpredictable.

Trump’s psychodrama

I don’t mean, of course, that it isn’t already abundantly obvious that it is going to be dire. The choices he is already making for key appointments demonstrate he is going to oversee a depraved, intellectually and morally bankrupt, regime. About the only thing which may save us from the worst is that it may well also be too incompetent and too prone to infighting to deliver what it threatens.

However, within that broad picture, it remains to be seen exactly what he does in terms of the two issues most obviously of concern the UK: defence posture as regards NATO generally and Ukraine specifically, and a blanket hike in trade tariffs. I’ll discuss the latter shortly, and whilst I won’t discuss the former in this post there is a good analysis by Benjamin Martell of Edinburgh University in The New European, building on his and others’ report for the Independent Commission on UK-EU Relations earlier this year.

Beyond the difficulty of predicting what he will do, I think there is an undesirability in doing so. One of the ways in which narcissistic bullies like Trump exert power – and it’s the same in playgrounds, prisons, and some businesses as it is in politics – is precisely to generate a psychodrama of fearful uncertainty around themselves: ‘what will he do? What will we do if he does that? What will he do then if we do that?’

In this way, those around the narcissist become unwittingly complicit in his way of exercising power. It is very difficult to find a way of resisting that kind of power, but one possibility might be to stand back a little from the frenzy. To play it long and cool, rather than short and hot. Admittedly, that is not a luxury open to the heroic defenders of Ukraine, but it might be good advice to the UK. However, as a matter of fact, political actors and commentators here are currently engaged in trying to work out what Trump means. So the frenzy can’t be ignored.

Trump’s tariff threats

In the UK, and very directly connected with Brexit, much of that frenzy has been to do with trade. Specifically, if Trump does impose a blanket 10% or even 20% on imports to the US it would mean, at the upper end of that range, an estimated 0.8% fall in annual UK economic output. That it is not even worse is because the bulk of UK exports to the US are services (which do not attract tariffs) rather than goods. But, in the context of already anaemic growth forecasts, and the very urgent political and economic need for improved growth, that would be quite bad enough. That seems to be the baseline assumption in most commentary, but of course if it turned out to be 10%, or if the uplift was only applied to certain sectors (and depending what these were) the impact would be less. But it still wouldn’t be good.

If any of these scenarios happens, then one response, and it may well be the EU’s response, could be to impose retaliatory tariffs on imports from the US. A trade war, in other words. The UK could do that on its own account, but it is far too small to be able to win a trade war with the US. So this exposes the weakness of post-Brexit Britain. For many of those opposed to Brexit, it re-presents a choice between the EU and the US, to which the answer must be the EU. According to Brexiters, though, the opposite is true (£), and being outside the EU means that the UK could strike a deal with the US on its own account.

Others, by no means confined to Brexiters, see a less stark choice. Peter Mandelson, tipped as the possible next Ambassador to the US, sees a third way, with the unfortunately worded suggestion (£) that the UK could “have its cake and eat it”. It’s a possibility endorsed (£) by the generally acute Financial Times commentator Robert Shrimsley. Similarly, Andrew Haldane, the former Chief Economist at the Bank of England, believes a deal is possible without prejudicing relations with the EU. One reason for making such a claim is that not only are most UK exports to the US made up of services, but it is services trade where the UK has a trade surplus. Given that Trump’s tariffs are aimed at those countries with surpluses in goods trade, the UK isn’t so much his target as potential collateral damage.

What does a ‘deal’ mean?

However, the discussion of all this has already become mired in confusion. That is principally because it has conflated two potentially very different things. One is the old Brexiter dream of a UK-US Free Trade Agreement (FTA), meaning, at its most basic, an across-the-board removal or reduction of all or most tariffs, but potentially including the removal of some non-tariff barriers to trade. The other is a specific deal to be exempted from the blanket imposition of Trump’s new tariffs. An FTA would improve the current terms of trade. An ‘exemption deal’ would simply return terms of trade to the status quo ante.

They are also different in that FTAs typically take a long time to negotiate, whereas an exemption deal, at least in principle, need not. And that reflects the fact that the things required of the UK for an FTA would be likely to involve substantial concessions on regulatory issues (‘chlorinated chicken’ being the symbolic one), especially as regards agriculture and pharmaceuticals. What would be needed for an exemption deal is less easy to predict, but could be things like voluntary export quotas, restrictions on Chinese imports, or agreement to import large quantities of US military equipment – but not, necessarily, regulatory concessions. [1]

These two scenarios therefore have different implications for the other side of the coin, UK-EU relations. An FTA, to the extent it entailed regulatory change, would move the UK further from the EU regulatory orbit. That would derail the current direction of Labour’s ‘reset’ policy, which is primarily based on continuing alignment with the EU. It would certainly derail the centrepiece of that policy, a UK-EU SPS deal (which would entail regulatory alignment on agricultural standards, especially). It would also have implications for Northern Ireland, which would remain bound by EU goods regulations, and thus would ‘thicken’ the Irish Sea Border. A more limited exemption deal might well avoid these things, but would certainly do political damage to the reset in terms of trust, assuming that it left the EU fighting a trade war with the US which the UK had managed to slide out of.

A trade deal with Trump?

Some Brexiters would undoubtedly argue that the distinction I’ve drawn is irrelevant, in that an FTA would also be an exemption deal (even though an exemption deal wouldn’t be an FTA). That’s true, but it doesn’t affect the point that an FTA would take longer to agree, and in the meantime there would be no exemption from the blanket new tariffs. Nor does it recognize the profound political difficulties any UK government would face if it met likely US demands on regulations.

But there is a more fundamental issue. Brexiters, both in the Tory and Reform parties, are now talking as if a UK-US FTA was there for the taking under Trump’s first presidency, and will now be available again. Kemi Badenoch is even claiming (£) that there is an “oven ready agreement negotiated by the last Tory government”. This is nonsense. There was no such agreement [2]. In fact, Trump blew hot and cold about a deal first time round. That’s actually a specific example of my earlier point about how narcissistic bullies use uncertainty to exert power. And even if he ever did offer such a deal, it would be on one-sided terms (that would probably be true under any US administration, but certainly under Trump’s ‘winner takes all’ version of deal-making).

In any case, this latest upsurge of talk about trade talks is exhibiting some of the same deficiencies as the earlier version. One concerns the relative importance to the UK of trade with the US and the EU. Brexiters, including Badenoch, are already wheeling out the misleading claim that the US is the UK’s largest trade partner. That’s misleading because it treats each member of the EU as a separate trade partner. They aren’t, to the extent that all are part of a single market and customs union. Brexiters really can’t have it both ways, saying that EU membership prevented the UK from being independent, especially in trade policy, but then talking as if each EU member is a separate trading entity. Secondly, it resurrects the misleading idea that a UK-US FTA would be much of an economic prize anyway. The previous government’s figures suggest it would provide an additional 0.07% to 0.16% per annum to GDP over 15 years.

Nevertheless, what we are going to see, and are already beginning to see, is Brexiters pretending that there is an easy, perfect solution to the Trump tariffs, but one that the Labour government is refusing to take because it is anti-Trump and pro-EU. We will see, as is also already beginning, Nigel Farage claiming with smirking self-importance that he has his own special relationship with Trump, giving him a unique influence and insight, just as he did first time round. Along with that will be noises from Trump supporters, and again they are already beginning, suggesting a deal is possible if only the UK abandons ‘EU socialism’. Trump will undoubtedly throw fuel on to that fire (‘I offered them a great deal, it was a beautiful deal, but they didn’t want it. I d’know why, I hear they preferred the EU, I d’know, but it was a beautiful deal’).

Beneath this, there is a still more fundamental issue. Trade policy is never wholly about economics, or economic rationality. But this is unusually so for Trump. If it wasn’t he would hardly even be contemplating the blanket tariff, which will increase prices in the US (though, despite what some think, that probably won’t bother his supporters). Instead, trade policy for Trump is about beating his enemies, in this context meaning the EU and China (which may face 60% tariffs). So there’s no point in thumbing through Ricardian theory on comparative advantage to try to understand Trump’s policy. But the corollary is that there’s no point in trying to frame responses in these terms.

In concrete terms, this means that the UK government should not weigh its (distinctly limited) options simply in terms of economic effects. An exemption deal might reduce the immediate economic damage, but its longer-term costs to the UK, both economic and geo-political, would be considerable in terms of the EU and, very possibly, China. The potential Chinese dimension is worth stressing, because at issue for the UK is not a just a two-way tug between the EU and the US, but being stuck between all three blocs. That was brought into focus by Keir Starmer’s attempts this week to improve relations with China, which might well be jeopardized by any form of deal with the US. To put all this another way, the only deals Trump does are those that favour him.

The cleavage in 21st century politics

This brings us to the final, and deepest, level of what is at stake here, and it is far more important than tariffs on this or that, or small percentages of GDP. It is that what Trump represents, as Brexit does, is what I’ve elsewhere discussed as ‘anti-ruleism’. In the most basic way, his anticipated blanket tariff policy makes a mockery of WTO rules. But his entire approach to politics is one which rejects the rule of law, scientific rationality, and, ultimately, the concept of ‘rational-legal authority’. I try to avoid social science jargon on this blog, but I think it may be useful here.

The sociologist Max Weber developed the idea that modern, industrial societies were increasingly characterised by systemic, codified rules and laws, objectively formulated and applied. So we obey X because s/he is the legitimate holder of the office (of President, or CEO, or whatever), not because of the person holding it. Weber contrasted that with authority that was ‘traditional’ (e.g. monarchy, church) or ‘charismatic’ (derived from the persona of the leader).

Trump fairly obviously seeks to elevate charisma over rules, but more to the point he embodies a hostility to ‘rules’ as a concept of social organization and politics. In this, he shares a common ideology with the ‘disruptor’ tech bosses, like Elon Musk, who now support him, and, in the UK, with their fanboy Dominic Cummings (£). He also shares it with Vladimir Putin, who relies on a peculiar admixture of charismatic and traditional authority, fused with nationalism, and is equally disdainful of the rules-based international order.

It is also shared by Boris Johnson, exhibited by the way that he (for perhaps idiosyncratic reasons) and the Brexit Jacobins (for reasons of fanaticism) believed it was acceptable to dispose of all conventions and institutions, including parliament itself, in order to ‘get Brexit done’. It is shared by Liz Truss, who still insists those institutions caused her downfall. Emblematic of this is the hostility of both Trump and the Brexiters to bureaucracy and, especially, the civil service, which, not coincidentally, was emblematic, for Weber, of rational-legal authority. That hostility is shared by Kemi Badenoch, in her aggressive diatribes against ‘the bureaucratic class’. Such anti-ruleism is obviously connected with populism, but it isn’t identical to it (there’s a book to be written there). The disjuncture is what did for Boris Johnson, when his disdain for the Covid rules fell foul of the populist idea that ‘rules should apply to all of us’. 

There are many different ways of understanding these developments. One way might be to see them in terms of the latest phase in the unwinding of the politics of the Cold War (that would need another book). Another, even more epochal, would be to see them as a kind of Counter-Enlightenment, in which the eighteenth-century battles over rationality are being re-fought but in the other direction (that’s a third book). Of course, the Trump presidency will not last forever. But there is a sense that deep and profound changes are now established in the US and elsewhere. And why not? Despite the brief moment when some claimed ‘the end of history’, history never ends.

However they are framed, the key point is that these developments are about far more than international trade. That is not surprising, because Brexit itself was about far more than trade with the EU; more, even, than membership of the EU. Needless to say, these are not the terms in which most people are framing the current situation, although Rafael Behr of the Guardian comes close to doing so. If it were framed that way then, indeed, the whole question of Brexit would be re-litigated. It is clear that the government have no intention of doing that.

Will Starmer’s government rise to the challenge?

Nevertheless, in terms of the division I have presented here, Keir Starmer is very much on one side, being almost the epitome of rational-legal authority or, so to speak, ‘ruleism’. That is something to be grateful for, yet even framed in the narrower terms of trade and tariffs his government’s response so far is rather wishy-washy. Reeves has spoken of seeking to do a deal with the US “whether that's through a free trade agreement or through further improvements in our trade and investment flows”. But in the same interview she pledged that “we’re not going to allow British farmers to be undercut by different rules and regulations”, effectively ruling out an FTA. As for some exemption deal on new tariffs, she just says that “we'll make the case for free and open trade”. What does that mean in practice? Who knows.

Perhaps, when Trump’s intentions become clearer then so will those of the British government. But my hunch is that they won’t. I don’t think that the government is, as I put it earlier, playing it long and cool. I think it will simply try to muddle through, dodging or fudging the choices in the hope that they become irrelevant, if only through the decisions made by other countries. Arguably, in a situation in which the UK has so little leverage and so few good choices available, that has a certain pragmatism. But as a response to the bigger framing of those choices gestured towards in this post it is wholly inadequate.

Why are Labour in this situation? In some ways it is because, faced with Trump, any British government, like the governments of many other countries, has an almost impossible problem. But, just as, for Britain, Brexit adds to all the economic problems that other countries face, so too does it add to the Trump problem. For this government, in particular, that is compounded by its commitment to a Brexit policy which it does not believe in but is unwilling, and perhaps unable, to repudiate.

 

Notes

[1] This is my amateurish take on the question. For more detailed analysis (though I think it is pretty much compatible with mine) from trade experts, see Sam Lowe’s Substack newsletter, David Henig on the UK Trade Policy Observatory blog, and Dmitry Grozoubinski’s guest post on Ian Dunt’s Substack newsletter.

[2] It may be that Badenoch was referring to the previous government’s statement of the case for such an agreement (2020) Even if so, that was, emphatically, not an agreement with the US, still less one which is now ‘oven ready’ to be signed with Trump.

The limits and limitations of post-Brexit choices

The very tiniest consequence of Trump’s election victory is that its timing falls messily for me now that this is a fortnightly blog. This post’s main topic, which is last week’s budget, suddenly seems like old news. Equally, writing about that leaves little space to write about the US election.

But that may be no bad thing. I often think that hot takes on big events are foolish, and the scale of this event, in particular, is going to take time to process. It is going to be different, bigger, and potentially far more dangerous than what flowed from his 2016 victory. The consequences go well beyond the focus of this blog, but even within that focus they will be profound. Profound for the UK, for the EU, for the continent of Europe and therefore, inevitably, for the entire Brexit project.

A preliminary list includes issues of defence, most pressingly as regards Ukraine, but also as regards the Baltic states, Eastern Europe both inside and outside the EU, and the Balkans. It also includes economics, and the possibility of substantial tariffs on trade with the US. Both of these things will shine a fresh and very searching spotlight on the economic and geo-political incoherence – an incoherence so great that it can properly be called a stupidity – of Brexit as a national strategy. That can only add weight to calls to join (or rejoin) the EU, though it's hard to see them being heeded. It certainly ought to bring more urgency and ambition to what already seemed the feebleness of the Labour government’s ‘reset’ of UK-EU relations, and which has now been rendered utterly inadequate in both scale and pace.

Yet, at the same time, Trump’s victory will embolden and re-energise the populists and the Brexiters. Earlier this year, when a second Trump presidency was already looking likely, I wrote at length about the relationships between Brexit, Brexitism, Trump and Putin. Most of that still stands, although some of the dynamics will be inflected differently under a Labour government. Thus Nigel Farage is gloatingly cock-a-hoop, directly comparing the result to Brexit, and the crackpot idea of him being the ‘unofficial Ambassador’ to the US is doing the rounds again.

Meanwhile, Kemi Badenoch, the new Tory leader, is already trying to exploit the difficulties that a Trump presidency would pose for any British government, and resurrecting the Brexiters’ favourite idea that he will agree a favourable trade deal with the UK. More generally, Brexiters, who have seen their 2016 ‘triumph’ become not just unpopular but a kind of byword for failure, will see in Trump’s reincarnation the hope that their fortunes, too, can be revived.

Labour’s first budget

All of this and much more will play out in the coming years. However, that doesn’t make last week’s budget an irrelevance and it, too, will have some long-term effects. It was a notable Brexit event, albeit in a peculiarly negative way. That has two aspects, one of them fairly widely remarked upon by commentators, the other, so far as I know, not mentioned by anyone.

The widely remarked-upon aspect was trailed in my previous post, where I wrote that “at one level, [the budget] will push discussion of Brexit even further to the margins, as commentators will find many others things in it to talk about. At another level, it will make the costs of Brexit even more relevant.” And so it proved.

Rachel Reeves’ budget speech lasted well over an hour, but mentioned Brexit only once, and only in passing, when she said that the Tory “Brexit deal harmed British businesses”. The subsequent debate focussed on everything from the rise in employer National Insurance contributions to the supposed impact on family farm inheritance, but only rarely on the Brexit silence.

On the other hand, buried in the accompanying Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR) documents was a reminder that, taking into account what has already happened, its forecast for the impact of Brexit on trade intensity remains the same. This presumably also means that its forecast that the long-run impact will be that GDP will be 4% lower each year than it would otherwise have been also still holds (as last formally stated in May 2024). It is also implicit in the OBR figures, and confirmed explicitly by Treasury Minister Tulip Siddiq, that 60% of this damage is yet to come.

It bears repeating that, for all the tedious misleading graphs, cherry-picked data, and attempted rebuttals that still float around Brexiter-world, and get cited as ‘gotchas’ by keyboard warriors who wouldn’t know an x-axis from the X Factor or the X Files, something like this figure is given by all the major independent estimates. There’s a good discussion of this in relation to the budget by John Wilmslow in Sussex Bylines. 

The irrelevance of Brexit

All this is important, and provides a fresh example of the strange post-Brexit landscape in which the mounting economic damage is politically all but undiscussable. However, there is a sense in which the silence about Brexit in the budget was entirely justified. For the aspect which I have not seen mentioned is just how little difference Brexit has made to political debates and policy choices. Brexit was billed by its advocates as a great national liberation. This budget was a big event, setting the direction of travel for the next few years. Yet its basic parameters were indistinguishable from those of all the decades in which Britain was a member of the EU.

This is a demonstration of the fact that Brexit itself was based on an utterly false narrative of policy being substantially constrained by, or dictated by, the EU. Or, to put it another way, the false narrative that Brexit would give the UK greater ‘sovereignty’. In fact, policy remains within the familiar terrain of how much to tax, how much to borrow, and where to allocate funds.

Of course, the precise decisions made about that in this budget were distinctive, but the generic issues involved have not changed at all. It may be that in the weeds of specific measures there were some things, if so, very likely related to VAT, which would not have occurred as an EU member but, again if so, they were very marginal.

The constraints of reality

Brexiters would no doubt say this reflects the failure of the government to take advantage of ‘Brexit freedoms’ but, as the previous government found, these proved to be illusory in practice. And the reason for this is not, as Brexiters would have it, a lack of will. It is because the constraints on UK policy choices were never, in any significant sense, those arising from EU membership. In fact, as regards the budget, the principal constraints are, as was the case before Brexit and as was the case before membership of the EU, the currency and bond markets. As Labour politicians in the 1960s used to complain, it is the ‘Gnomes of Zurich’ who set the parameters of UK economic policy. That was before Britain joined the EEC, but it remained the case afterwards, as Denis Healey found in 1976.

It is still true after Brexit. That was amply demonstrated by the Truss-Kwarteng mini-budget and - though to nothing like the extent that right-wing commentators claimed (£), and perhaps hoped - by Reeves’ budget. If the Reeves budget escaped the market mauling that Kwarteng’s endured it was partly because it was accepted, for example and in particular by the IMF, that the borrowing it involved provided the basis for sustainable growth and necessary public investment. It was also because Reeves explicitly eschewed the Brexitist anti-institutional frenzy which characterized the mini-budget, a frenzy which ended with the ludicrous assertions about ‘deep state’ interference and ‘socialist’ market traders.

But it’s not just fiscal policy which has shown the irrelevance of being outside the EU. The same goes for most parts of regulatory policy, something tacitly accepted by the last government, and slightly more openly accepted by the present government. The reasons, which I’ve rehearsed endlessly on this blog, boil down to the fact that, in or out of the EU, the UK largely has little choice but to accept transnational rules. Moreover, largely for reasons of geographical reality, these are very often those of the EU itself. Even immigration, the strongest candidate for the claim that Brexit has made a difference to policy choices, doesn’t bear out the Brexiters’ thesis. The detailed inner workings and mechanisms of policy have changed, but the basic parameters are framed by the same economic and political questions as they always were.  

The constraints of domestic politics

This points to a related issue. It is not just that there are the same external constraints on policy as there were before Brexit. It is that there are the same, or similar, domestic constraints as before. It’s undoubtedly the case that many Brexiters on the free-market right saw leaving the EU as a way to introduce radical ‘neo-liberal’ [1] policies to become 'Singapore-on-Thames' (£), to use the common, though misleading, term. But the assumption that it was only EU membership which stood in the way was false.

The British electorate was and remains a major obstacle. If neo-liberals sought to achieve electoral consent for their vision via the backdoor of Brexit, it was because they had no confidence they could do so through the front door of a general election. That was actually underscored by the coalition of voters brought together by Vote Leave and, later, by Boris Johnson in the 2019 election. Many, if not most, of them wanted no such thing as the ‘Singapore Brexit’ agenda.

Hence, even after leaving the EU and after the pandemic, neither Johnson nor Sunak followed that agenda (£), much to the chagrin of its advocates. Liz Truss undoubtedly wanted (£) to go down something like that route but had not secured electoral support for doing so and, even if the bond markets hadn’t imploded her premiership, it’s far from clear she could have delivered on it politically even within her own party.

All this inflects another way. Just as many right-wing Brexiters saw the EU as a barrier to neo-liberalism, many on the left came to see it as a bulwark against such policies. This at least partly accounts for the shift from Labour’s 1983 ‘Brexit’ policy to its later, largely pro-EU, position. Of course this did not apply to some on the Labour left, who became what we now call Lexiters, but in the process that revealed another aspect of the incoherence of the Brexit coalition. For the Lexiters see the EU as neither a barrier to, nor a bulwark against, neo-liberalism, but as an incarnation of it.

The consequences of this are still playing out. At the time of the referendum, many left-wing remainers believed (and some still do) that because many neo-liberals supported Brexit then ‘therefore’ this was ‘the real purpose’ of Brexit. Ironically, this validates the neo-liberal Brexiters’ own complaint that what has been delivered is ‘not real Brexit’. For, manifestly, Brexit has not ushered in anything remotely like what they wanted.

The Freeports red herring

That ought to be seen as their problem, and as a demonstration that the neo-liberal Brexiters were as deluded and incompetent as every other brand of Brexiter. However, the insistence that this was what Brexit was ‘really all about’ lives on in the ridiculous claims about Freeports, which continue to do the rounds on social media, depicting these as being, or in the process of becoming, deregulated neo-liberal ‘zones of exception’ (there’s an irony in that, too, as it validates Brexiters’ own false claims about Freeports being, in their terms, a ‘Brexit benefit’).

In fact, they are no such thing, and the two pieces of ‘evidence’ cited to suggest otherwise are both flawed, as I discussed in more detail in a previous post. One is that these Freeports would violate ‘EU state aid rules’. It’s questionable whether this is true, but even if it is then it is an odd way to demonstrate their ‘neo-liberalism’. For, as the Lexiters insist, it is the EU’s state aid rules which are one of the principal reasons for regarding it as a neo-liberal institution. (Freeports aside, the Lexiter position on this is another example of the wider Brexiter falsity that it was EU rules, rather than the UK’s own political choices, which were the barrier to the use of state aid: whilst still in the EU the UK gave much less state aid in per capita terms than most other members.)

The other piece of ‘evidence’ given for deregulated Freeports is that the Retained EU Law (REUL) Act 2023 supposedly unleashed massive deregulation by scrapping 600 EU laws. But, apart from the fact that this applies across the country, not just in Freeports (so it is irrelevant to the claims about them), anyone with even a cursory understanding of this issue knows that REUL was a major disappointment to the neo-liberal Brexiters. They had wanted to scrap or automatically sunset all the estimated 4,000 EU laws by the end of 2023, and were infuriated that not only was the number scrapped so small, but that they generally related to trivialities. That decision, taken by Kemi Badenoch when she was Trade and Business Secretary, actually marked a defeat for them. That isn’t to say they may not revive in the future, and no doubt Trump’s victory will embolden their hopes of a similar resurrection, but the idea that REUL was a triumph for their version of Brexit is simply false.

The Freeports issue is an illustration of my wider point here, that the parameters of policy have not been changed by Brexit. It’s something demonstrated, if inadvertently and in a misleading way, when the Freeport alarmists talk about ‘the 86 Freeports and SEZs’ (Special Economic Zones). It’s misleading because Freeports are SEZs (so ‘Freeports and SEZs’ is a misnomer) and doing so enables them to talk of these being ‘rolled out’, when almost all of them have existed for years, and pre-date Brexit. And it’s that which illustrates the point that, both before and after Brexit, policy choices haven’t really changed. In this case, that is because SEZs were and still are predominantly areas with various business tax breaks, most if not all of which did not require Brexit. That doesn’t mean they are good, or that they are effective. It just means that they are pretty much what they have always been.

Back to the budget

This brings us back to the budget. It does so in one trivial way. Before the budget there was a report that it would announce five new Freeports. This report turned out to be mistaken, but not before much gnashing of teeth about how it ‘proved’ Labour had embraced post-Brexit neo-liberalism. Far more importantly, the budget marks a distinct break with recent economic policy, perhaps going as far back as 1979. That isn’t so much because of its taxation decisions as the role it envisages for state investment.

As such, it marks a decisive rejection of the neo-liberal ‘crowding out’ thesis – the idea that public investment crowds out private investment [2]. That was a key part of the intellectual undergirding of what became Thatcherism, and it persisted under George Osborne’s Chancellorship. Arguably, it also lay behind the Blair-Brown governments' embrace of the Private Finance Initiative (PFI). This doesn’t mean that it was the ‘socialist’ budget or the “Marxist nightmare” (£) described by the ludicrous rantings of right-wing commentators. But nor does it warrant the lazy claim that there’s no difference between Labour and the Tories. It was, as Martin Kettle of the Guardian described it, “a budget in the identifiably social democratic Labour tradition”.

Whether it succeeds in delivering the economic growth it promises, and to what extent, is another question, and one made all the more difficult to answer by Trump’s election. But, along with other Labour policies, from industrial policy to workers’ rights – even if none of these go as far as some would want – it puts paid to the idea, at least for now, that Brexit was the harbinger of a new wave of neo-liberalism. In some ways, it could even be described as bringing the UK closer to a ‘European’ economic model.

The limits and consequences of choice

That might seem ironic, but to a certain sort of Brexiter, arguably the most principled sort, it would be no such thing. Such people would say that the point of Brexit was not to usher in any particular policies, but simply to ensure that the policies in place are those chosen by British voters [3]. It is the same argument they make when saying that Brexit did not mean lower immigration, just that immigration levels would be determined solely by the elected government.

It may be a fine sentiment, but it is a naïve one, ignoring the many constraints on the choices available to voters, constraints over which their elected governments have far less control than they used to over EU laws and regulations. Like it or not, voting never has been, and never could be, the sole source of policy. On the other hand, it ignores the fact that, despite those constraints, the same kind of budget as that of last week could have been delivered with or without Brexit. That doesn’t mean that Brexit has made no difference to this and other post-Brexit budgets. It has. But the only real difference it has made is that there is less money.

In a similar way, no British voter chose Trump as American President, and most of them are unhappy about his election and concerned about its implications for Britain, but they will all have to cope with the consequences of it. That would have been true with or without Brexit, but Brexit limits the choices for how to do so.

 

Notes

[1] I’m aware that some people find ‘neo-liberal’ an imprecise, irritating, or even meaningless term. I use it here as shorthand for the broad proposition that markets are the best way of allocating resources, that they do so best when minimally regulated, and the State should be confined to relatively limited functions.

[2] I’m thinking in particular of the influence of the ‘Bacon-Eltis’ version of the crowding out thesis. Crowding out as an idea has a longer history, but in their telling it was enrolled into the wider neo-liberal narrative of ‘private good, public bad’.

[3] This was the position of the late Tony Benn, who of course was a Lexiter avant la lettre, and, certainly in his version of it, it was not the same as either ‘nationalist’ or ‘sovereigntist’ positions.

The Brexit quart won’t fit into Labour’s pint pot

The landscape of the politics of Brexit remains a broad and highly contested terrain, ranging from those convinced it was a great and necessary triumph, to be defended at all costs, to those urging its immediate reversal, with many shades of opinion between. But, under the Labour government, what might be called the immediate practical politics of Brexit operates within a far more restricted space in which only ‘micro-issues’ are subject to political decisions. Those micro-issues and decisions matter, and are worthy of attention, but, ultimately, the question is whether this disjuncture of scale is a sustainable one.

Wes Streeting’s facts of life

The Health Secretary Wes Streeting, whether intentionally or not, recently gave a very clear exposition of the perverse position the government has adopted. He was asked why the idea, not of rejoining the EU, but even of joining the single market was undiscussable. Whilst happy to recall that he, himself, had “campaigned passionately” against Brexit (this, at least, is something which is now sayable for cabinet ministers), he argued that “the people have moved on, the country has moved on and the EU has moved on”, so that there was “no appetite” for such questions to be re-opened.

This is familiar enough stuff, but Streeting then went on to say something more surprising, which I’m not sure has been explicitly expressed by any other cabinet minister: “there’s no doubt that what we warned about in advance of the referendum in terms of the impact on economic growth has come to pass, and that’s a fact of life we have to deal with. I think the sweet spot is working as closely with the European Union where we can, but also showing the agility to work with and through other partners in other markets as well …” [1]

This is different to the kind of things Keir Starmer, in particular, has said, accurately but irrelevantly, about the fact that not all Britain’s economic problems stem from Brexit. Sometimes, that has even morphed into the implication that ‘therefore’ these problems can be solved irrespective of Brexit. By contrast, the Streeting version is that the costs of Brexit are significant but just have to be accepted and, at best, mitigations made at the margin. In effect, this elevates the ‘mustn’t grumble’ mentality, which I alluded to in my most recent post, to the level of government policy.

That still leaves open the question of what Streeting means by “working as closely as possible with the EU where we can”. I wrote in a post at the end of the summer, pointing to the government’s lack of a clear and coherent post-Brexit strategy (a lack which still remains), that the most likely reading of Labour’s approach was that it would be the “maximalist” one of seeking “the maximum closeness, cooperation and alignment with the EU short of breaking the Labour manifesto commitment to its negative red lines”. Actually, it would have been more accurate to say that this is the best that can be hoped for. For that approach has yet to be demonstrated, as illustrated by the current rejection of a Youth Mobility Scheme (YMS), despite that fact it would not violate those red lines.

Backbench pressure?

I also pointed out in that post that one important way in which this government differs from its Tory predecessor is that the backbench pressure will be towards closer ties with the EU, rather than resistant to them or, indeed, agitating for even more distant ties. That is true, but what it is turning out to mean in practice is backbench pressure for such a ‘maximalist’ approach.

Thus, writing recently in the Guardian, Stella Creasy, the MP who chairs the Labour Movement for Europe, set out just that case. It included some of the things mentioned in my post, including seeking to join the Pan-Euro-Mediterranean Convention, and embracing, even extending, the EU’s proposals for a YMS. It also supported amendments to strengthen the governments Product Regulation and Metrology Bill (discussed in another recent post), further enhancing the way it will tend to keep many UK and EU regulations aligned.

What Creasy’s article self-avowedly did not do was make the case for rejoining the EU or for abandoning the government’s red lines. Saying that is neither praise nor criticism. It is simply a fact. What it betokens is that the practical politics of Brexit under this government is therefore now entirely about the nature and extent of Brexit damage limitation. That is, there is no dramatic difference of principle between what Streeting said and what Creasy wrote: the issue is entirely one of specific ‘micro-issues’ to be addressed within the framing they share.

That framing still leaves room for some policy debates and choices. Apart from the government’s stated ambitions, such as an SPS deal with the EU, there will be constant decisions to be made, with important upcoming examples including linking UK and EU Emissions Trading Schemes and aligning UK and EU deforestation regulations. Yet, important as these things are, they are still decisions to be made within the limited parameters of what the present government regards as practical politics.

A vanishingly small space?

A year ago I reviewed a book by Peter Foster, the Financial Times journalist who has been one of the best analysts of Brexit (I apologise for these repeated links to earlier posts, but they help, I hope, to provide context and sometimes corroboration, whist avoiding excessive repetition). That book is perhaps the most detailed articulation of what ‘maximalism’ (in this context) means in terms of specific measures.

In my review, I suggested that: “one danger which a Labour government looks likely to face is that, along with Brexiter denunciations, it will also be attacked by remainers and rejoiners as being insufficient to the magnitude of the task. The positive reading of that is it will push Labour towards Foster’s more maximalist version of its presently disclosed policy. The negative reading is that, squeezed between those who say it is too much and those who say it is too little, the space for pragmatism will remain vanishingly small.”

It's arguably too early to be sure yet, but it looks as if it is the latter outcome which is emerging. In practice this would mean that, rather than post-Brexit policy being located right up against the edge of Labour’s red lines, those lines will mark the far boundary of what is possible, and policy will settle between that and the kind of ad hoc accommodations the Sunak government was forced to make despite Brexiter opposition (e.g. watering down the scrapping of retained EU law, postponing if not effectively scrapping UKCA, agreeing the Windsor Framework). That is, if the Sunak approach is defined as minimalism, and the Creasy (or Foster) approach is defined as maximalism, the Starmer government’s approach will end up being somewhere between the two.

If this is so (and, actually, even if what emerges does turn out to be the maximalist approach), it is likely to come under increasing strain as it collides with economic reality. That was illustrated by the government’s much-vaunted International Investment Summit last week. This was the context of both the Streeting interview and the Creasy article, and it also provoked commentators to ask the question which, even if the government wants to believe that ‘the country has moved on’ will not go away: what about Brexit?

Counting the costs of Brexit: latest news

It is a question given added salience by a report the same week from Stephen Hunsaker of UKICE, calculating that, since 2017, the UK may have lost £44 billion of public investment which it would otherwise have received from the European Investment Bank. Like other counterfactual estimates (i.e. what would have happened if Brexit hadn’t happened), such as those of foregone trade, this may have little cut-through with the public. It is hard for people to get agitated about the loss of something that they ‘would have had’ in an alternative history. But for policymakers such things are, or should be, highly important and, indirectly, they do actually have a political significance: even without recognizing the mechanism, voters react negatively to the effects.

There was also a reminder of ‘the costs of Brexit’ in terms of payments made under the Brexit ‘divorce settlement’. This came as the result of a parliamentary question from SNP MP Stephen Gethins about how much has been paid so far, and how much remains to be paid, to which the answers turn out to be £24 billion and £6.4 billion respectively.

Strictly speaking, these are not ‘costs of Brexit’ because they are payments for liabilities the UK had incurred as an EU member so, in that sense, would have been paid one way or another regardless of Brexit. Nevertheless, it shouldn’t be forgotten that many Brexiters insisted, amongst them Nigel Farage, that there would be no ‘divorce settlement’ to pay or, even, that the EU would owe money to the UK. Even when installed as Foreign Secretary, Boris Johnson said the EU could “go whistle” for a financial settlement. Others of them fantasized that nothing should be agreed until the future terms of trade were also agreed, a fantasy which did not survive what turned out to be the non-existent ‘battle of the summer’ of 2017, although it still lingers on in Brexiter mythology as one of the many ways that Brexit ‘could have worked’.

More generally, the financial settlement was expected to be the most contentious aspect of the Withdrawal Agreement, and one of the more curious parts of the Brexit saga is the way that, having effectively been settled as part of the ‘phase 1 agreement’ in the autumn of 2017, it has scarcely figured in discussion since. By contrast, the issue of Northern Ireland, which had been dismissed by Brexiters as a triviality, proved to be far more toxic, festering on until the Windsor Framework was agreed in February 2023, aspects of which remain unimplemented even now, and is still a running sore to many, including many advocates of Brexit.

All this is worth recalling if only because we should never forget the grotesque ways in which Brexiters fooled themselves and misled others about the most basic realities of leaving the EU. More specifically, in the present context, it serves as another illustration of how, every step of the way, what Brexiters sold as a cost-free project has incurred cost after cost after cost.

A third recent reminder of this is the Reuters’ report that the Lord Mayor of the City of London estimates that Brexit has led to the loss of 40,000 jobs from Britain’s financial centre since 2016. It was a noteworthy report not least because, rather like the financial settlement, the figure for City job losses also has a special place in the iconography of the Brexit process.

Before the referendum, a widely cited report from accountants PWC estimated that the figure would be 70,000 to 100,000. This was dismissed as ‘Project Fear’ by leave campaigners, who later claimed vindication when, in 2022, another accounting giant, EY, estimated that the actual figure had been ‘only’ 7000 jobs. Of course, this was only a vindication because, by then, defence of Brexit had long since moved to claiming it had not been as bad as expected, rather than that it had had the positive benefits promised. If the latest 40,000 figure is correct then, on that logic, it could still be claimed as a vindication. Nevertheless, it would be closer to the lower end of the PWC estimate than to the EY estimate.

Foregoing jobs of this type, on this scale has significant implications. For example, economics commentator Jonty Bloom calculates that, if the figure is indeed 40,000, this represents well over £1 billion per year of foregone tax revenue (even conservatively assuming these jobs to have had an average salary for the sector, and considering only the income tax and national insurance they would have paid). Again, these are counterfactual costs but, whilst that inevitably means they are estimates, counterfactual analysis is the only way of assessing the effects of Brexit. Indeed Brexiters themselves recognize this whenever they claim (usually wrongly or misleadingly) that such-and-such a thing is a ‘benefit of Brexit’ because it wouldn’t otherwise have been possible.

Foregone jobs aside, the wider issue is that, apart from a few pro-Brexit diehards, no one seriously thinks that, overall, Brexit has been anything other than bad for the UK financial services industry. Even the pro-Brexit Telegraph reported (£) earlier this year that Brexit was the “prime suspect in the death of the stock market” and that the referendum was a decisive moment in the City’s “brutal losing streak”. Meanwhile, a review of the sector jointly produced by the City of London Corporation and the Treasury last year (i.e. under the Tory government) identified “strengthening and deepening the EU-UK business relationship” as “a top priority for the UK based financial and professional services sector.”

There’s little sign that this priority will be delivered by the new government, for all Labour’s wooing of the Square Mile. As a recent analysis by Hannah Brenton of Politico explained in some detail, the sector remains “out in the cold”, rarely featuring in the government’s statements about the ‘reset’ with the EU, and barely mentioned in discussions with the EU. Yet, as Brenton points out, financial services account for some 12% of UK GDP and contribute £100 billion in tax revenues (2022 figures). A government which has made GDP growth its central mission and which has a pressing need for tax revenues to repair highly-stressed public services can hardly afford to ignore the sector’s stated priority needs in this way.

Some other facts of life

Constant reminders of the costs of Brexit, such as these, will continue to exert pressure on the narrowness of the political space within which Labour are willing to discuss it. Next week’s budget will be an important example. At one level, it will push discussion of Brexit even further to the margins, as commentators will find many others things in it to talk about.

At another level, it will make the costs of Brexit even more relevant. Battles between the Treasury and spending departments are a basic fact of political life, and those over the forthcoming budget are no different (rather than being, as some reports suggest, the sign of a government in chaos). Nevertheless, they have an added dimension when budgetary constraints are so much tighter than they would have been as the result of a calamitous decision about national strategy.

To put it another way, Wes Streeting may think the costs of Brexit are “just a fact of life we have to deal with”, but he must know that much of the political credibility of the government, not to mention his own career, depends on the funding settlement he obtains for the NHS. The same goes for other ministers and other public services. For this reason, even if ‘the people have moved on from Brexit’ and even if counterfactual losses have no cut-through, it doesn’t follow that bearing those costs has no political consequences. It’s another fact of political life that voters expect results. [2]

From that point of view, the limited space of Labour’s Brexit politics, and the Brexit micro-issues to which it confines the government, is always going to be faced with the question of why it is so small. The ‘macro-question’ of Brexit as a national strategy will not go away. And that isn’t solely or even, ultimately, mainly because of the question of whether Brexit was a mistake. It is for similar, if now updated, strategic reasons to those which, in the 1960s and 1970s, drove the UK repeatedly to seek membership of what was then the EEC (this argument was made with great elegance by the historian Robert Saunders, in an essay marking the day that Britain left the EU). Those reasons, too, are facts of life, deriving from those of economics, geography, and the nature of international relations.

So the issue for this and future governments is the disjuncture between what is economically (and geo-politically) desirable and what is politically viable. The present government has an answer to this, and it is not entirely without merit: it is that re-opening the macro-question of Brexit would be economically damaging because of the instability which would result from the political toxicity of doing so. On this account, there is no disjuncture: it’s not economically desirable because it’s not politically viable. And it’s true that, in particular, many big businesses which have adapted themselves to being outside the single market and customs union are not keen to have that all thrown up into the air again for an indeterminate period with an uncertain outcome.

However, whilst it isn’t unreasonable for the government to take account of those concerns, they do not define the interests of Britain’s economy as a whole, nor those of its citizens. Acting as if they do is not only unhelpful to smaller businesses and to consumer choice, it institutionalizes higher costs, lower investment, and a lower tax base than would otherwise be the case. Equally, it does little to address the geo-political damage of Brexit.

This doesn’t mean, at least in my estimation, that the present government is going to pivot to joining (or rejoining) the single market, let alone the EU. It does mean, though, that an approach based on simply “living with” the costs and damages incurred by choices made by, and in the aftermath of, the 2016 referendum is inherently fragile. It is very unlikely that the politics of Brexit can forever be contained within the small space to which it is currently confined by Labour. For it is also a fact of life that attempts to fit a quart into a pint pot – to use measures that some Brexiters might appreciate – will result in a leakage, if not indeed a flood.

 

Notes

[1] The last words of this quote seem to suggest a continuation of the last government’s faith in post-Brexit Britain’s ‘nimbleness’ in being able to set its own regulations and make its own trade deals. There’s little reason to share it. But in one respect, at least, there has been a departure from this hubris in that all the existing advisers to the Board of Trade have been dismissed, including Daniel Hannan, one of the major architects of Brexit, and Australia’s former leader Tony Abbott, one of its few international champions.

[2] In the present context, it’s an even harsher fact of political life that some voters expect results that they have denied themselves by their vote to leave the EU, or, however they voted in the referendum, by their unwillingness to see that decision revisited. But there’s nothing new about people holding perversely contradictory views, and it’s one of the tasks of political leadership to persuade them of the need to face realities. The core of the present government’s ‘Brexit problem’ is that it believes this is not possible – and it may well be right.