“I was a remainer” already sounds like the start of a dystopian novel, or the beginning of an anecdote to a grandchild in years to come. Yet I was. Sceptical of aspects of European Union policy and its lack of accountability, I never felt the slightest desire to abandon or destroy it, any more than I would with the UK, about which I harbour many of the same reservations. Ultimately, as an internationalist living in the 21st century, I understood globalisation as a reality and not a choice, and wanted a Europe for people and values—not just money and markets. This remains my hope.
And yet, just as throughout the dismal campaign, the discussion remains strikingly narrow. Anxiety about the economic consequences of “Brexit” are everywhere. Whether here in our shell-shocked divided kingdom, or across the channel in the EU nations that we have half turned our back on, the likely effects of June’s referendum result are ceaselessly calculated via the indices of pounds, euros, GDP and interest rates—understandably so. But what of the deeper, broader and indeed generational dangers? Harder to quantify but no less important to health, happiness and human rights in the continent that, not so long ago, spawned two world wars and the Holocaust.