Brexit, Boris, and the future of the UK

As I write this, it's been 3 years since the Brexit referendum, and a week since Boris Johnson became Prime Minister of the UK. It seems a reasonable time to pause and take stock of where we've been, where we're at, and where we're headed -- and how we should feel about it.

In short, as I'll detail below, where we've been is that we've been either unified and disunified at different times; where we are  now is a changeover period, and where we're headed is disunity (until another union!)

How should we feel about Brexit? Well, if you're anti-Brexit, then by all means feel a little bit annoyed or concerned; and if you're pro-Brexit, then by all means feel a little bit pleased. Any more extreme a reaction than that is an overreaction. Things rarely turn out as bad as the popular media and even the "experts" predict.

Impending doom

Remember Y2K? It was predicted that on the stroke of midnight on 1.1.2000 aeroplanes would fall from the sky, mobile phones and computers would stop working, and the world would be hurled into chaos. As it turned out, nothing much happened.

Remember when the UK declared war on Iraq and Afghanistan? The papers warned us that it could be the start of WW3, and an era of terror was upon us, but that didn't happen. Many people have died in the war, and that's terrible - but there is certainly not a world war going on. For most of us, life today is just the same as it was before the war began.

Remember the Labour landslide in the general election of 1997? I was just old enough to vote, and I recall all us youngsters went out wearing red t-shirts and singing Things can only get better, REJOICING that 18 years of Tory rule had finally ended. I felt sure that we were on the cusp of a great revolution... But as the months turned to years, I realised very little had changed.

Remember when Romania, Poland and Bulgaria joined the EU? The papers warned us that we'd suddenly be overrun with migrants from these countries... but that doesn't seem to have happened either.

Remember when they said swine flu / bird flu / MRSA / SARS / Ebola / <insert infectious illness du jour> was going to decimate the UK population in numbers similar to the Great Plague? In reality, more people in the UK died from using hair straighteners than from these illnesses*. So again, the news paranoia spread fear over something which just didn't take hold.
* I made up this claim about hair straighteners, but it's probably close to the truth.

What I'm saying is this: people - whipped up by news media - expect the worst, and reality seldom turns out to be as bad as the pessimistic forecasts would have us believe. Sometimes things do turn out bad, of course, but there are far, far more times when all-out chaos and apocalypse have been predicted, and instead, life has just ticked on as normal.

I realise our country leaving a union with other countries is wildly different from Y2K, the invasion of Iraq, etc. We might think that unity is really important for Britain - but it's worth reminding ourselves that unions have been created and dissolved throughout our history:

• 6000 BC: The island of Great Britain is cut off from continental Europe by the English channel
• 43 AD: The island of Great Britain becomes part of the Roman Empire
• 122 AD: Hadrian's wall built between England and Scotland
• 410 AD: Britain is no longer part of Roman Empire
• 927 AD: Various areas (Wessex, Mercia, East Anglia etc) unify to become the Kingdom of England
• 1284 AD: England conquers Wales and the two are unified into a single kingdom
• 1603 AD: England and Scotland join in personal union (have the same monarch)
• 1707: England and Wales form a union with Scotland to become the Kingdom of Great Britain
• 1800: Great Britain forms a union with Ireland (the whole island) to become the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland
• 1922: Ireland (minus Northern Ireland) leaves the United Kingdom; the remaining countries become the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
• 1952: France, West Germany, Italy, and Benelux (Belgium, Netherlands, Luxembourg) form the EEC, which later becomes the EU
• 1973: The United Kingdom, as well as Ireland, join the EU
• 2014: Scotland holds a referendum for Scottish independence (but chose to remain unified within the UK)
• 2016: The UK decide, via national referendum, to leave the EU
• 2019: The UK leaves the EU?
• 202?: Scotland gains independence from the rest of the UK

The above is just a whistle-stop history of England, the UK and the EU. What it doesn't show is all the other unions which have been formed and dissolved elsewhere in the world over the past 1000 years. Even within the last century we've seen the breakup and reunion of Germany, and the unions and subsequent breakups of the USSR, Yugoslavia, and Czechoslovakia. Plus there are many other newly-formed countries all over the world (Western Sahara, South Sudan, Kosovo, East Timor, Serbia, and Montenegro, among others). These new countries haven't arisen because new landmass has been created; they've arisen because an existing country has decided to split into two or more separate nations. The state of political union between countries is not static; it's more volatile than the tectonic plates on which the countries sit.

The pertinent question is whether these unions and breakups have been for the better or for the worse for the countries involved. I don't claim to be an expert in international relations, but from what little I do know, the answer is a resounding ... "it varies".

I know this may be hard to stomach, because it doesn't fit neatly with the polarised debates the media like to feed us. Unsurprisingly, we've seen sensationalised headlines on both sides of the debate. On the pro-Brexit side, weve seen headlines such as "The deadly cost of our open borders" (which explains how foreign criminals emigrate to Britain for crime sprees) and "Patients are at risk from EU doctors". On the anti-Brexit side we've seen "May likened to Captain of the Titanic" and headlines describing a "Brexit earthquake" - and if you do a web search for the words 'Brexit' and 'catastrophe' you'll find enough reading material to keep you going for life.

The UK public - by a painfully small majority - voted to leave the EU, and if Boris Johnson's rhetoric is anything to go by, we will be leaving within the next 4 months.

Leaving a union and going it alone does not signal automatic failure and catastrophe for a nation - but nor does it signal automatic success and prosperity. If we look at the examples of other countries who have left unions with other countries, and broken away to form their own country, as I noted above, the prognosis is a resounding "it depends". It's not fully clear what will happen to the UK.

My shocking post-Brexit prediction

Now I will excite and shock you with my prediction about what our lives will be like in the UK post-Brexit:

Things will be a bit difficult for a while, then they'll settle down and go back to normal.

Yes, you read that correctly. I think that the economy, the NHS, education, industry and almost all the other facets of our lives will experience a period of turmoil for a month or two, then dininishing difficulties for 1-3 years, then they'll get back to roughly the way things were before. Maybe not exactly the way they were before - the exchange rate might be 1.49 instead of 1.38, and the organisations might spend their money slightly differently, but essentially, for the vast majority of people, life will feel just the same as it did before.

I understand why people are concerned about Brexit, because the news keeps telling us that it's going to be bad, but I really think that within 1-3 years, things will get back to normal, and then the long term will take care of itself. You might think I'm in denial, but I think I'm taking the news with a pinch of salt.

Who is to blame?

In these uncertain times, the fear and panic which people feel can be slightly mitigated when they have someone to blame. So who should we blame? Maybe the Vote Leave campaign for their false claims about Britain sending £350m a week to the EU? Maybe we should blame the media for taking sides, exacerbating hostility towards migrants and fear of the EU? Or perhaps we should blame the British people for voting on an issue they knew little about? But there's a small group of people - and one person in particular - who seem to have escaped people's wrath, and I say they have a lot to answer for. Who am I talking about?

David Cameron, and the Conservative Party which he led. He was the one who called the referendum. He is the one who started the ball rolling. If you want to blame someone, blame him.

If Brexit is a catastrophic problem, then why on earth hold a referendum in the first place? I've heard it said that the British public voting Leave is like a turkey voting for Christmas dinner. But you know what? Turkeys are pretty dumb, and if given a vote, they might well vote to become Christmas dinner, because they don't understand what they're voting about! So if you really want to preserve the welfare of the turkey, don't give it the vote at all!

If it's true that Brexit spells disaster for the UK, and that it's painfully complex to understand, then leaving such a life-altering decision up to the ignoramuses  on the street is utterly ludicrous. So if you want to blame someone for the way things are, blame David Cameron and the Conservatives. 

It is probably true that the UK public were (and still are) woefully ill-informed about what Brexit will do to the economy, public services etc. Most people make voting decisions on tiny scraps of rhetoric and posturing, in some sort of knee-jerk fashion. Given this (possible) fact, and if Brexit really will be a never-ending nightmare, then why give the British public the chance to vote for it? David Cameron may have the answer, but I do not.

Final word

There are many wonderful times in life, and many terrible ones. The best times of your life are things like your wedding day, playing with your kids, times with loved ones, and parties with friends. The worst times of your life are things like your parents dying, getting Cancer, your child having mental health problems, suffering a disability, being attacked, or getting divorced.

Very few people will have Brexit up there on their list of best or worst things that have happened in their lives. Will you really look back on you life and see Brexit as one of the worst things that has happened to you? If not, then why worry? Get on with your lives, getting married, having kids, partying etc, and enjoy yourself. If, on the other hand, Brexit is really one of the worst moments of your life, then you have my every sympathy.

But I genuinely think that in a few years, Brexit just won't be a concern any more. As Elsa once sang:
"It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small, and the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all [...] let it go, let it go..."

If ever we need to take the advice of a Disney princess, it's now. Brexit is but a mere tiny blip in our lives, and less still in history.

Why sacredness is not a thing, and its OK to climb Ayers Rock

Plenty of things are described as sacred: buildings, natural sites, books, objects, maybe even people. I don't profess to be an expert on sacredness. In fact, I don't think anyone can be an expert on sacredness, because sacredness is not a thing. Nothing is sacred as a matter of fact. You might think that this book or that building is sacred, and that opinion will be shared by some but not others, but nothing is, as a matter of fact, sacred. This is because sacredness, like being valuable, beautiful, or delicious, is just an opinion, not a genuine property of something. This puts me squarely in the antirealist camp when it comes to sacredness, which fits with my atheism. We are clever apes who have progressed to the point where we make books, buildings, and artefacts, we hold ceremonies and make laws and pray to (non-existent) gods.

Of course, if you are religious then you will probably want to jump ship here, because you may not like what you're about to read.

Still with me? Ok then. So, take some inanimate objects like bricks, paper, fabric and wood. Bricks can be thrown in a pile, left in a builders merchants, built into a garden wall, or built into the shape of a church. If the bricks happen to be built into the shape of a church, the bricks do not suddenly become sacred in virtue of having been arranged into the shape of a church, do they? After all, I could (were my bricklaying skills good enough) arrange bricks into the shape of a church in my garden, and then use the structure for picnics, a place to keep my bins, or whatever; arranging bricks into the shape of a church wouldn't make them sacred. We'd agree that it wasn't a sacred place wouldn't we? I don't know, maybe some people would say the bricks had become sacred in virtue of being arranged into that shape?!

The same can be said about the other substances - paper can have all kinds of words and pictures printed on it - the terms and conditions from a contract, a story about Spiderman, or religious passages. To me, no piece of paper is any more sacred than any other simply because of the words that a printer printed on it. Burning 'sacred' or 'holy' texts in private, where no one will know (omniscient gods notwithstanding) seems morally unproblematic to me. In the same vein, wood can become a chair leg, or a cross; fabric can become a mini skirt or a headscarf.

Clearly, some people do believe that some items are sacred, so my simply denying that sacredness is a thing might seem odd.

But consider the following. Suppose we take an item which everyone agrees is not sacred. For example, a child's sock. Now let's suppose that one child believes the sock is sacred. Does that make it sacred? It seems not. But what if ten or twenty people believe it's a sacred sock? Once a group of people say an item is sacred, its sacredness seems to gather some weight. We might shake our heads and think that they are silly people, but still they'd believe the sock was sacred.

And if a whole ethnic group or religious group say the sock is sacred and they reinforce that through their actions - for example, they worship the sock or make offerings to it - then we would presumably have to shrug and say ok it's sacred to them. And maybe being sacred to someone is just the same as being sacred full stop?

How many of us have heard stories or experienced this ourselves - instances of people who've gone on holiday to strange and wonderful countries, and been doing something which they thought was totally reasonable, only to discover that the locals think the object or place is sacred and the tourist's actions are offensive or blasphemous. For example, taking a photo of a painting, or sitting on a rock, or talking in a building, or taking a selfie next to a statue, or touching a book, or standing under a tree. This list really could be extensive, because people the world over believe the most unexpected items are sacred. And that's ok, this is a free world where people can hold whatever beliefs they want.

But any such beliefs about sacredness need to be held by a threshold number of people in order to count as something that people should respect. If I believe that red chairs are sacred and I tell others not to sit on red chairs, but instead to take a quiet moment of contemplation when in the presence of a red chair, I am likely to be laughed out of town. But if I start a chair religion and gather a few hundred thousand people, my beliefs about the sacredness of red chairs might be a little more respected or tolerated.

But let's face it, red chairs are not sacred, and nor are socks. The sacredness is not an inherent feature of red chairs or socks, but simply something that onlookers may believe. "But it's just a chair" or "it's just a sock", people would insist, and they'd be right. Chairs and socks are not sacred, and nor are crosses and 'holy' texts. My believing a sock is sacred does not, as a matter of fact, make it sacred. It would make it precious to me, but not sacred, because the term sacred implies some godlike presence endorsing my belief in the sacredness of socks.

Should we respect sacredness?

Disclaimer: I like the ethical freedom to flit between deontological and consequential ethics. I do this as and when I please to suit my argument at the time. It's a free world.

In the case of supposed sacredness, I think consequentialism gives us the most sensible result. Suppose that a group of people think a particular piece of wood is sacred and should not be photographed, then it seems right that when in the presence of such people, I should not photograph the piece of wood. But when no one is around (and no CCTV or the like) then it doesn't matter one way or the other whether I take a photo of the piece of wood, just as it wouldn't matter if I photographed the red chair or the sock.

As I said above, people the world over hold the most ludicrous beliefs - that this rock should not be sat on, this building should not have menstruating women in it, this painting should not be photographed, or this mountain should not be climbed. Their belief that X does not make it the case that X.

Ayers Rock

Now, there are some objects or landmarks whose supposed sacredness is what makes them famous. For example, a statue of Christ, or Mecca, or the area where Moses parted the Red Sea. Without any beliefs in religion or sacredness, these places would be unremarkable and pretty unknown. Given that it is the area's supposed sacredness which makes it famous, it wouldn't seem right to travel to a place because it is said to be sacred, and then to disrespect its alleged sacredness in view of others.

But some landmarks would be remarkable even if no one knew that some people felt it was sacred - Ayers Rock is a prime example of this. The rock is remarkable because it's in an area of total flatness, and this natural monolith sprouts from the ground. (By the by, there are a couple of other similar monoliths in the area which are almost as impressive - Mount Conner and The Olgas). The rocks are remarkable and impressive in spite of any beliefs which locals may have about sacredness; visitors to the area would want to see these rocks whether or not they were said to be sacred. This seems to mark out Ayers Rock and its sisters as being interesting independently of supposed sacredness, and I suggest that this difference is crucial. I climbed Ayers Rock back in 2002. At the time, it was known that the locals did not want people to climb up it, because they felt it was a sacred rock. But I - and a couple of hundred other people - did climb it that day, and I imagine that similar numbers have continued to do so every day over the past 20 years. But it seems that tourism has finally bowed down and will soon stop people from ascending the rock, solely because some people have said it's sacred. It continues to draw attention due to this soon-to-be-enacted ban.

Even people who believe in God and believe that a church or a Qur'an or a turban is sacred might struggle to believe that a lump of rock can be sacred, so you can imagine how difficult it is for an atheist to accept that Ayers Rock is sacred. If some people said that Mount Everest or Lake Michigan or the English Channel were sacred, would that stop people from visiting them, walking on them or sailing on them? Of course it wouldn't. And not should it.

When I walked up Ayers Rock, I noticed that some areas had worn smooth with being walked on so much, and I suppose that smoothing has continued over the past 20 years. That is a contender for a sensible reason to prevent people from walking up it, in the same way that we don't traipse all over the Sphynx. It has nothing to do with sacredness, and everything to do with preserving incredible sites of interest. But how much damage has in fact been done to Ayers Rock? A millimetre here or there is nothing to write home about, and therefore we can easily see that the seemingly sensible reason is not really that sensible at all. Every day, people traipse up and down Ayers Rock, and even if it's a centimetre rather than a millimetre which has been lost, this is still not reason enough to stop people walking on it.

Ayers Rock is geologically incredible, Christ the Redeemer in Rio is impressive, and a religious text may tell a good story; they may be culturally important, financially valuable, and historically significant, but they are not sacred, because sacredness is merely an opinion which exists in the eye of the beholder. Ayers Rock is interesting and peculiar, but it is ultimately a lump of stone with no sacredness at all within its molecules.

Golf balls, one-word exam responses, and the myths of Philosophy

Philosophy is my life, and I love it. But not everyone really knows what it is (this includes my immediate family, best friends, and seemingly everyone who isn't studying philosophy). I just hope they haven't gone online to try to find out what it is, and found these absurd myths.

Philosophy professor with life lessons 

A philosophy professor stood in front of the lecture theatre and picked up a large glass jar. Wordlessly, he proceeded to put golf balls into it, until the class agreed it was full. Then he poured in gravel; the gravel filled the spaces around the golf balls. Again, the class agreed the jar was full. Then he poured in sand, which filled the gaps around the gravel, and again the class agreed that the jar was now full. Finally, he picked up a glass of beer and poured it into the glass jar. The beer filled the remaining gaps and the class agreed that the jar was finally full. Then the professor said "The golf balls are the most important things in your life, like family. The gravel represents other things that are important to you, like your house, job, and car. The sand is all the other things in your life, like fixing the dripping tap or doing the laundry." "What about the beer?" asked a student. "Ah, the beer just goes to show that no matter how full you think your life is, there's always time for beer!"

If you have never heard this story before, I'm sorry to have put you through it. Because this is not a post about how we ought to prioritise our family (although we should), and nor is it a post about how there's always time for beer (there isn't). It's a post rant about how these ridiculous urban myths which circulate the internet and the real world are not just irritating, but offensive to philosophy as a discipline.

There is already confusion about what philosophy really is. I am recalling open days I've attended (both as a student ambassador, and as a teacher) where people have said things to me like "I'm not sure what philosophy is, but I think it sounds interesting" (I have never really figured out how something can be interesting when you don't know what it is!) or "Is philosophy like psychology, because the words sound a bit the same". I've also been asked (usually by parents rather than students) "What's your philosophy?" as though 'my philosophy' is some sort of belief I hold about life. Now it's OK that people don't know what philosophy is - the fact that metaphilosophy is a thing demonstrates that maybe even philosophers aren't really sure what it is either!

But whoever circulates these banal tales is exacerbating the confusion. I've been in the world of philosophy for 23 years, and never have I ever come across demonstrations with golf balls about the importance of beer. Nor even have I ever come across uplifting life advice about the importance of family and why we shouldn't sweat the small stuff. This is an important message, to be sure, but not really within the realms of philosophy. The latest crazes for mindfulness and meditation have further blurred the lines for the public about what philosophy is. And input 'philosophy' into any university search box and you will get dozens of results stating that the university wants the best for their students, and how students should balance work and play, - you'll have to really dig araound to find anything about the subject discipline of Philosophy.

One word exam answer gets top grade

A final philosophy exam paper asks students to define what courage is. A student responds with the single word "This." and receives the top grade.
A philosophy exam paper consists of a single one-word question: "Why?" A student responds by simply writing "Why not?" and receives the top grade.

These urban myths are simply absurd, and really make a mockery of the gruelling nature of philosophical study - and what's worse is that many people seem to believe them! I have had students who have asked whether they are true, even after a year of writing philosophy essays. One or two students have, over the years, told me that they had constructed some clever one-sentence answer for a question on solipsism, the external world, or determinism which they were sure would get them a grade A*. I of course told them that their idea was a recipe for disaster, and thankfully, to the best of my knowledge, no one ever attempted such a smart-Alec exam response. But still the myth persists (among non-philosophy students, at least) that philosophy is a subject where one can achieve a top grade with a clever one-word or one-sentence response.

There's no right or wrong answer

Philosophy has got a name for itself as a subject where there aren't any right or wrong answers, everything is just an opinion. Ethics is probably to blame for much of this problem - many children's first (and sometimes only) taste of philosophy is a discussion in English, RE or PSHE about whether abortion/euthanasia is right or wrong. People say their opinions, argue about it a bit, then the lesson ends. As an introduction to philosophy, this sort of lesson with youngsters is not too problematic, but when it still exists among second year BA students, it is more problematic.

I'm quite the antirealist when it comes to moral facts, aesthetics, and several other fields, but the notion that in philosophy "you can just argue anything - it doesn't matter what" is a tragic misconception, and far removed from antirealism. And this confusion is echoed by resrachers in other fields, who are aghast that we philosophers don't gather data.

Don't you gather data?

People in the sciences gather data, analyse their data, and draw a conclusion; the same is true of many people in the arts, humanities and social sciences. So many of them simply cannot fathom how one can conduct research without gathering data; they just can't seem to get their heads around it. I have been to numerous interdisciplinary conferences (for example, those organised by my funding body M4C, and those organised by the University of Nottingham, and the incredulity is rife.

When I have told interested people that I am studying how care robots should conceive of harm and consent, they ask me questions like "So what data are you gathering?" "Are you going to survey people to see how they think the robots should act?" or simply "What's your methodology?" Some people have been confused, and others incredulous, bemused or even horrified about the fact that philosophers don't generally gather data (xphi notwithstanding). "What, so you're just going to write about your opinions of how robots should act? Without even finding out what anyone else thinks?" they ask.

All disciplines suffer caricaturing

I suppose it's too much to ask that the general public - and perhaps even students in other disciplines - really understand how philosophy is conducted. After all, I'm perhaps woefully misguided about other disciplines. I guess any subject can be distilled into an excruciatingly dismissive soundbyte:

• Literature: you just read stories and say what you think about them
• Biology: you just look at animals and plants
• Maths: you just add up and take away
• Art: you just paint stuff
• History: you just read about the past
• Philosophy: you just say your opinion about stuff
• Sport science: you just run about and throw balls
• Business studies: you just look at how to make money
• Media studies: you just watch TV

I suppose when placed among these sorts of oversimplified and misguided bullet points, philosophy probably doesn't fare much worse than the other subjects do. I see philosophy as the essential foundation onto which all other knowledge is built (How can you study history without  understanding whether the past really exists? How can you study literature without knowing what language is?) But I suppose that many people see their discipline as the foundation of all others - psychology, language, history, sociology, physics, chemistry and biology can all make similar such claims (and probably lots of other subjects can too!) Nonetheless, it would be nice if people didn't belittle or caricature philosophy, my one true love.

PS - Stupid urban myths which belittle philosophy are infuriating, but if you'd like to see a collection of genuinely funny jokes about philosophy, check out see David Chalmers' website. But note that most of these will only be funny for someone well-versed in philosophy.