The difficulty with Brexit is twofold. This is not a micro issue. It is a macro one. And if there was a chance to move on that still might not matter, but what that chance is, and who might supply it in a world that is finite and the possibilities are decidedly limited, and when none are readily apparent or on offer, is hard to tell. I could leave jobs and a marriage without knowing what was next, confident options were available. Brexit has no such expectation attached to it. Instead it feels like, as Cardiff City football manager Neil Warnock said at the weekend, a chance to say ‘to hell with the rest of the world’ without once considering the consequences. Or the responsibilities we have.
So my sense of resignation is inappropriate and I want to chastise myself for it and yet I still cannot. After all, I must have some responsibility for this.
Was I, and others like me, irresponsible for turning my back on party politics as a much younger man in pursuit of career and single issue campaigning?
Was I also, again as a conscious act, irresponsible to stand by and see neoliberalism tear our society to pieces and tut tut but not actually do more to prevent it at the time?
And could it be that the fact that we have such dire politicians, when the generation of which I am a part is overall able, through our collective fault for failing to value government, politics and the processes that drive it enough?
Am I actually, therefore, resigned to my own failure and accepting that I have a part in the collective act of harm that is, inevitably, befalling the country?
Britain should have bendy bananas again because Richard Murphy?