Brexit

One of the many incorrect predictions about this year’s referendum was that those who voted for Brexit would soon regret it. The theory was that these deluded souls only intended to lodge a protest vote, and would be overcome with buyers’ remorse as Britain fell headlong into a deep recession. Two months after the referendum, there is precious little regret. Polls suggest that just 5 per cent of those who backed Brexit wish they hadn’t; the same is true for those who voted Remain. However, the Remainers have moved quickly and effectively into post-campaign mode and have found a new vocabulary. Their new enemy is ‘hard Brexit’. They seize on

In recent months, Downing St has played court to a turf war between No.10’s chief mouser Larry and Palmerston, the Foreign Office’s top cat. Things are only set to get more complicated now that the Treasury has also welcomed a feline — by the name of Gladstone — and the Cabinet Office are in talks to do the same. Unsurprisingly this new wave of pets has left some departments feeling rather left out. In fact, those in the newly formed Department for Brexit are now keen for their own pet. However, rather than a mere cat they are after a… British bulldog. The thinking is that the pooch — widely seen as a symbol for plucky Brits

Theresa May has somewhat shamefully maintained her reticence over the rights of EU workers to stay in Britain after Brexit. But some in the ‘Leave’ campaign are continuing to pile pressure on the PM to do the right thing and give assurance to the 3.5million Europeans living and working in Britain. Gisela Stuart was clear throughout the referendum that these workers should not be booted out of Britain in the event of a ‘Leave’ vote. And in a campaign which painted few in glory, Stuart is an exception for actually sticking by what she said. Here’s what she had to say this morning: ‘I think there is no debate about

Why is everyone so chilled out about the threats to Brexit? Why isn’t there more public fury over the plotting of lords and academics and experts to stymie Brexit and thwart the will of 17.4m people? In all the years I’ve been writing about politics, I cannot remember a time when democracy has been treated with as much disgust, with as much naked, Victorian-era elitism, as it is being today. And yet we’re all bizarrely mellow. We’re going about our business as if everything is normal, as if the elites aren’t right now, this very minute, in revolt against the people. We need to wake up. Every day brings fresh

Britain’s trade deficit – the difference between what we import and export – widened in the run-up to Brexit. Figures out today show that we imported £5.1bn more goods than we exported to the rest of the world. That gap widened by nearly £1bn between May and June, according to the ONS, in a picture which the Guardian have said is pretty ‘ugly’. But there is a flip side. Firstly, these figures don’t reflect anything about the referendum – they were compiled in the build-up to the June vote, so they tell us little about the impact of Brexit. Secondly, it’s worth mentioning that whilst the deficit has, indeed, got bigger,

We were warned during the referendum run-up that Brexit could be a disaster for tourism. Much of the Project Fear medicine focused on what it might mean for British tourists heading overseas; the answer could be largely summarised as all doom and gloom. Abta, for instance, warned that ‘a Brexit could…affect the flow of trade and travel’. In short, the message was clear: Brexit was bad news for the travel industry. But what we heard less about was how the referendum might affect the numbers actually heading to Britain. Now, a month on from the June 23rd vote, we have the answer:  British tourism is booming. In July, bookings for flights landing in

We could be heading for a colossal constitutional showdown. Earlier this week, Baroness Wheatcroft told the Times that she and other peers are hoping to muster up a Lords majority against the invocation of Article 50, even if the Commons votes in favour. This would be extremely dangerous. Confrontations on this scale can be resolved in three ways. All end badly for the remainers, the Lords and the country. First, there’s packing. The government can fill (or at least threaten to fill) the Lords with sympathetic peers to get its legislation over the finishing line, provided the monarch agrees. The most fractious and feverish confrontation between the chambers, over the Great Reform Act