Either fish or fowl

It is enough to drive a fellow to the bottle. I am not given to agnosticism. My view is that if the evidence seems to sustain a conclusion, weigh it and arrive at one. On Brexit, I find that impossible. Most of my friends have no problem. From Remoaners to rejoicers, they all deal in certainties. I cannot emulate them. My intellect seems to have turned into a cushion, bearing the imprint of the last person I spoke to. I refuse to believe that the Bank of England has turned into the equivalent of an M.R. James ghost story, a delightful way of giving everyone a good scare on a wintry evening. But friends of mine argue equally forcefully to the contrary. Roger Bootle, David Howell, Nigel Lawson, Peter Lilley, Jacob Rees-Mogg, Matt Ridley: these are serious men, making a cogent case.

Whom to believe? I am drawn to two cautious judgments. First, that there are too many variables and uncertainties for a firm assessment to be possible. That might appear to vindicate agnosticism: not so. The government must still do something. Second, that the consequences of Brexit/Fudge-it may not be as serious as is widely assumed. It could be that the difference will be as little as 1 per cent of GDP. Is that a commonsense assessment — or an idle and complacent muddle? Time alone will tell.

In the midst of all this agonising, there is one consolation. Disputation needs drink. As an Russian grand duke once said: ‘Between the revolution and the firing squad, there is always time for a bottle of champagne.’ Brexit is more of a red wine conflict, and claret works better than burgundy; left-bank claret best of all. Gravel and cabernet sauvignon are better at sharpening the wits than the gentler, sweeter grape varietals.