Undated photo of a remain protester demonstrating their allegiance with headwear on College Green in Westminster, London. Photo: PA
Since the results of the Brexit referendum hostility between Leavers and Remainers hasn’t just lingered—it’s gotten worse. The Leave camp sees any democratic process that slows down our approach to the big day as a deliberate scheme to abandon the process entirely. The Remain faction, however, warns of a foolish and poorly-planned one-way trip to geopolitical oblivion.
This isn’t just a case of weighing up what it would practically take to change the result—since when has politics ever had anything to do with facts?—but also about how we feel. The vehemence of each group’s assumed correctness and the fire of their passion can be explained by the theory of counterfactual thinking.
Despite its name, this isn’t just thinking the opposite of what we factually know—though that has probably played some part in the whole disaster. It is instead the analysis of how we think and feel about scenarios which could have happened.
Broadly speaking, counterfactual thinking is why we get more annoyed if we missed our train by 2 minutes than if we miss it by twenty. We’re much more likely to tell ourselves “if only I’d got to the station a little earlier” than “well, at least I didn’t miss the train by an hour.”
This is what psychologist call upward counterfactual thinking: wishing something which has happened was better (downward counterfactual thinking is us being thankful things weren’t much worse).
How does this apply to Brexit? Downward counterfactual thinking tends to generate lots of negative feeling like regret, frustration and anger. The easier it is to imagine how we could have ended up in that missed, beautiful, other universe—where we are more successful, more loved and less ravaged by society tearing itself apart—the more intense these negative feelings become.
The People’s Vote is a manifestation of that pain. Not only do campaigners know they have (relatively) few minds to change, but they are also experiencing the frustration of a referendum that Remain nearly won.
The democratic value of a potential second referendum aside, the reason it’s so compelling is that it arguably gives us a chance to be in the reality we just missed. With the 2016 EU vote having been so close, it’s much easier to imagine a couple million people having voted to stay than it is to imagine that the margin by which Leave won could have been greater.
Meanwhile, the Brexit camp feels the frustration of repeatedly being so close to their goal and yet being foiled. If only Jeremy Corbyn/John Bercow/the EU 27/the judges/the lawyers/parliamentary procedure hadn’t needlessly intervened, then we would be out by now.
So what can we learn from this? If counterfactual thinking is why we have such an emotional response to narrow losses, why are we hard-wired to think this way? One answer is it helps us to better assess what it was that made us upset so we can avoid it in future; it’s telling ourselves to get up earlier, so we don’t miss the train next time.
That assumes, of course, that there will be a next time. If there is a second referendum, that could be a case of Remain campaigners making sure a strong, clear and truthful message prevails over false promises, and figuring out how to speak to those open to having their minds changed. Leavers, on the other hand, can slow down and say to themselves, “we have the mandate, now let’s take the time to get this right” rather than rush towards a victory in name alone.
Maybe, given the entire union feels like it’s losing right now, we’ll reassess the value of referenda—a process which seems to have brought no-one joy.
Most likely, however, “if only we’d learned something” would become a counterfactual thought itself, destined to be a maxim of regret in the unending pummeling of Brexit.
If there is a second referendum, what comes next depends on how easy it is to imagine the result, no matter what it is, going the other way; how close the vote will be. Unless there is a crushing swing to one side—which looks hugely unlikely—making the opposite result impossible to countenance, one side getting what they want will never stop the other side from campaigning, and longing for, what they didn’t get.
So long as it’s close, the Brexit debate will continue forever. And I don’t know how we counter that fact.
