Trial and Error

Nick Boles, an MP previously loyal to Britain’s Tory party, recently made himself very unpopular with his own constituency activists. Why? Because he dared to state that he would not support any move that might result in Britain quitting the European Union without a deal. In a recent column in his local newspaper he listed several points that explain his position concerning the disastrous Brexit fiasco. One of those points stated his adamant rejection of any support for holding a second referendum because, he says, it would “Increase cynicism about the honesty and competency of politicians”.
Well, what can you say? Anything that helps people to become cynical about the honesty and competence of politicians has to be good thing, doesn’t it?
But seriously, I understand the point he makes, and even agree with it at a very superficial level: you can’t ask people to decide something and then ignore their decision and do something else. But I think it might be helpful for him, and others with a similar view, to think about the Brexit referendum, or any referendum, not so much as some divine eternal proclamation, but more like a court verdict.
Our justice system has an essential device, an appeals process, which prevents or reduces countless miscarriages of justice. Many court cases which produce one type of verdict when they’re first heard often produce an entirely different verdict when the case is appealed at a later stage. This is because new evidence is usually heard at an appeal which was not initially available and which, if ignored through the absence of an appeal system, would result in grotesque injustices.
A similar and desperately serious situation exists with Brexit. Very few people who voted for Brexit had any idea of the mayhem that was about to be unleashed – and that was even before we actually left the EU. Very few people knew about the immense problem that would arise about the Irish border, for example, and very few people knew how much they were lied to in the months, and years, leading up to the referendum.
And how many people knew the great champions of Brexit would be the first to head for the hills as soon as the Brexiteers won the day? How many expected Nigel Farage to quit UKIP within days of the result, leaving others to sort out the mess he created? How many expected the likes of arch-Brexiteer Jacob Rees-Mogg to expand his multi-billion pound hedge fund operation, not in Britain, but in Ireland? Or anticipated arch-Brexiteer James Dyson to move the headquarters of his multi-billion pound empire out of the UK to Singapore? If all these leading lights of the “Leave” campaign were so confident about a rosy future for post-Brexit Britain, why did they behave like rats leaping off the sinking ship?
No referendum result should be treated like the word of God. It should be seen as fallible as a court verdict which could and should be changed if new compelling evidence is produced. Adhering blindly to a referendum result just because it’s a referendum is a bit like someone being convicted on phoney evidence in some kangaroo court by a bloodthirsty lynch-mob, denied any chance of appeal, and then brutally executed – all O.K. because some pseudo-court said so. Referendums are just as capable of returning wrong decisions as any courtroom and, just like court decisions in moderately civilised countries, should be able to be changed if sufficient evidence is forthcoming.
Generally speaking, the judicial system is not too bad. It possibly produces more good verdicts than bad ones. But everyone knows it’s fallible. It makes lots of mistakes, even when it isn’t being cynically rigged or manipulated. Without an appeals system it would be much, much worse.
There is a mountain of new evidence to support a re-trial of this case. The accused, Britain’s partnership with the European Union, has been wrongly convicted. The case must be appealed, and another referendum, based on all the new evidence, held as soon as possible.