The utter confidence of “Everybody knows that...”

I’ve been arguing on Twitter today. Yes, I know, a complete waste of time for the most part, but it keeps my mental agility intact, and gives me a better understanding of what, and how, other people think.

The argument is about fishing rights in the North Sea, not a subject I claim expertise on, but I know a little. So, when someone claims that hill farmers don’t matter because, post-Brexit, we’ll have a hugely expanded fishing industry, my sense of scepticism was triggered.

Let’s put aside the bizarre notion that all those bankrupt hill farmers can be retrained as offshore fisherman, and consider the claim, “we have 60% of the North Sea and after Brexit, wouldn’t have to share the fish therein with anyone”. My adversary started by suggesting that we share the North Sea with Norway. That wasn’t a great start, as Belgium, Denmark, France, Germany and the Netherlands all have North Sea coasts. And, of course, fish move (sneaky devils that they are). My new friend ignored that point but, when pressed, was relaxed about the ability of the Norwegians to hoover up most of the cod as they migrate south, which rather makes you wonder what fish might be left for British fisherman to catch.

I perhaps naively assume that fish stocks are a pooled resource, that the actions of one North Sea state impact on the others. Not according to my friend. Fish are a sovereign asset, he claims.

And on and on it went, with him making assertion after assertion, almost entirely unsupported by any evidence, until the argument, “my father was a trawler skipper in Grimsby” emerged. I can’t say that I was impressed. My father was highly successful in the advertising industry but I don’t claim any more than a superficial understanding of it.

But his certainty reminds me of the danger that being reasonable offers up. I am open to doubt about the impact of Brexit in various parts of the economy, because whilst any action may have consequences, a sensible government can mitigate against them to some extent. That mitigation may in turn have consequences but to govern is to choose. If the Government were to invest money into the fishing industry, or negotiate a good deal with other countries, or, perhaps less likely, it turned out that North Sea fish were disproportionately found in British waters, the fishing industry might thrive. On the other hand, it might be impacted by tariffs set by its major customer (the European Union) or there might not be enough Britons who fancy the hard life that is that of an offshore fisherman, and be damaged.

The problem is that, increasingly, much of life is complex and interrelated, and rather than think about that, it’s easier to fall back in the “everybody knows” argument. So, for example, everybody knows that migrants get favourable access to council housing. You might polite question that, noting that local councils use a points-based system for determining eligibility and relative need, and ask if the person is aware of the local council’s criteria? Naturally, they won’t know, hardly anyone does, but that’s what they’ve been told so it must be true.

Everybody knows that the European Union is a hugely bureaucratic organisation, running roughshod over ordinary British people. The fact that, in order to have confidence over the fitness for consumption of, say, a sausage, or that I can obtain free access to healthcare in Plovdiv as I can in Ipswich, requires some jointly agreed rules, determined by a democratic body, is obvious when you think about it, but complex to explain in terms of nuts and bolts.

And sovereignty is not absolute. Everybody knows that, if we leave the European Union, we’ll be a sovereign nation again. The vast array of international bodies that the United Kingdom is a member of makes clear the lie of absolute sovereignty. Who elects the International Maritime Organisation, or NATO, or ICANN? Would direct elections make them more, or less, efficient or effective?

Ultimately, it comes down to whether or not you see the outside world as something to be feared, fought or worked with. As a liberal, I tend to the third option, but I understand that it requires a certain element of faith in your neighbours, and a willingness to pool sovereignty for mutual advantage. Otherwise, why would you sign treaties on anything?

But, if we are to get a second referendum (and I’m not confident that, even if we do, it will be won), we’re going to have to work really hard to make the case for working with our neighbours for mutual advantage, that the rights we gain as part of the European Union make our communities stronger, wealthier and more peaceful. Because everybody knows that the United Kingdom is the greatest country in the world, and we don’t need foreigners coming here and telling us what to do, right?