The Sunlit Uplands Now Have a Departures Lounge

Brexiteers spent years insisting sovereignty was the hill to die on, even though nobody had nicked it. No tanks on the Mall. No EU taxman prowling the hedgerows of Old Sodbury. But it felt good to shout about, like waving the Union Flag at passing sheep and imagining they were grateful. It was always emotion dressed up as principle.

Then came the noble declarations. They didn’t mind being poorer. They would “take the hit”. They’d “make the sacrifice”. You could almost hear the Dambusters theme swelling behind them as they explained how Brexit was worth any price, so long as it upset the French.

Fast forward and the same people are now incandescent about taxes. Public services have keeled over like a Victorian aunt after a brisk walk. The economy is staggering around like it has one shoe missing. And those fearless patriots who didn’t mind a bit of poverty now demand to know why the bill for the mess they voted for has landed back in their lap.

Meanwhile, people are leaving. Not because Rachel Reeves has rummaged through their wallets, but because Brexit took a sledgehammer to the opportunities that once kept Brits here. Once upon a time you could take your degree, hop on a ferry, and work anywhere from Lisbon to Ljubljana. Now our bright young things need visas, sponsorships and the patience of Job just to do what a Dutch teenager can do with a bike and a packed lunch.

Some are even heading to countries with Sharia Law. Imagine that. So desperate for prospects that they’re choosing Gulf states over the sunlit uplands. And here’s the killer detail: plenty are moving to countries with higher taxes than anything Reeves has floated. Denmark. The Netherlands. Germany. Even France. They’re not fleeing taxes. They’re fleeing the shrinkage of opportunity that Brexit baked in.

But try telling that to the chorus that demanded the bonfire, applauded the flames, then complained when the ashes settled on the carpet. They insisted Brexit wouldn’t make us poorer. Then said it didn’t matter if it did. Now they’re furious that governing the smaller, slower, Brexit-damaged economy requires a few extra pennies in tax.

It’s cognitive dissonance on stilts. A nation that smashed the engine, blamed the driver, and now wants a refund on the ticket.

Sovereignty, they said. Prosperity, they promised. Emigration, they delivered.