Kathy Sheridan: Politicians should do a U-turn out of the Brexit morass but are too fearful

Some weeks ago, a man told a radio interviewer he had changed his mind about an important public issue. The shock was such that I almost demolished the car in front and now cannot remember the details of that shocking public admission.

At this end of 2020, to change your mind, to admit to human fallibility or to uncertainty, to suggest that a person not on the team might have a point – a tiny one, but a point nevertheless – is as rare as a unicorn. Yet to do so would be the single, greatest beacon of hope in a sick world.

On Monday night after a glass of red or several, an English friend sent a barely penetrable text basically confirming the rarity of unicorns. It was some bilge about Macron doing a deal with Merkel to get “his EU colonial-suppressing army. . . EU minion states sadly only found out in the press”.

My friend voted for Brexit – which even in 2016 seemed self-defeating – and many robust discussions have ensued between us since. So robust that last Christmas we agreed to never speak of Brexit again. And there it remained harmoniously until Monday.

Are we enjoying the Brit-bashing just a tad too much?

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Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out

But yes, I took the bait: “You won. You’ve got rid of the single market, the customs union, freedom of movement (for your children too), the European Court of Justice. Merkel, Macron and the minion states are no longer your concern. It’s Christmas. And you’re still furious. What’s that about?”

But there was no need to ask what ailed him. It was five days to Christmas and his beloved scattered family’s plans had collapsed into a hard lockdown. Brexit negotiations were teetering with 10 days to deadline; Britain held none of the cards and had somehow managed to unite the EU27.

The ghost of Christmas future had arrived, manifest in European borders shutting down to UK arrivals. Mile upon mile of trucks were stacked on the M20 to Dover. Weary, stranded truck drivers, almost all with foreign accents, expressed the hope of getting home to their families in time for Christmas.

If by word, deed or silence you have contributed to these scenarios, where do you go in your head? My friend’s attempt to distract and displace was transparent. In another time, it might have led to a kind and healing conversation but here is the problem: he can never admit out loud that Brexit or even parts of it might have been a mistake. That would be defeat; a humiliating U-turn.

For him there is no dignified way back because few bother to make a distinction between acting on new information and going back on your word. Or between open-mindedness and pig-headedness. But this is how we roll now. Stick with the team regardless.

Politicians should lead the way out of the morass but are too fearful.

A Minister say, digs his heels in on a policy for some reason, then with application, time and courage executes a U-turn. Surely a sign of a healthy democracy? It is. But the game dictates he cannot acknowledge the U-turn because that provides free ammunition to the Opposition and the media. Why?

Because the U-turn is always a shameful deed, a sign of weakness. And most of us nod along with that. Think of the silos in which we have entrenched ourselves as a result. Observe the fate of those British politicians who dared to question the Brexit theology. See my sad, bewildered English friend.

Partisan malice

Scroll through the partisan malice that festers in the silos on Irish social media.

This is why the best Christmas present we could give ourselves in 2020 would be to applaud the brave U-turn, celebrate it as evidence of a properly functioning brain. John Maynard Keynes reportedly epitomised this when he said, “When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?”

What the English economist actually said was less punchy. “When someone persuades me that I am wrong, I change my mind. What do you do?”, or it might have been, “When my information changes, I alter my conclusions”.

Either way, there is an important distinction. The introduction of new facts suggests some objective change and so needn’t dent one’s sense of infallibility about the original conclusion. But to concede that additional “information” or persuasion implies another outcome to the problem? That requires greater intellectual humility. It simply means that someone has listened patiently, studied, even gained new perspective.

My English friend and I have called another Christmas truce. I wished him a Christmas that would restore some of his old optimism. He said he preferred the word hope. There is a difference. As the Czech poet and future president Vaclav Havel put it at a time of government persecution and oppression: “Hope is not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out”.

I wish that kind of Christmas hope for you all.