In a development that has shocked absolutely no one with a functioning memory, the people who spent years insisting the UK should stay in the European Union are still, well, not over it. A new wave of "rejoin" advocacy is bubbling up across Britain, complete with think pieces, polling data, and the kind of wistful nostalgia usually reserved for exes who definitely weren't that great to begin with.
For my fellow Americans who treat European geopolitics the way we treat our 401(k) statements — something we know exists but refuse to look at directly — here's the recap. In 2016, the UK voted to leave the EU. It was called Brexit. It happened. The British pound had a minor existential crisis, grocery shelves got weird for a while, and everyone learned more about customs regulations than any human should ever have to know.
Now, nearly a decade later, the "remain" crowd is back in the discourse, arguing that maybe — just maybe — leaving was a mistake. And look, I'm not here to relitigate Brexit. I barely have the emotional bandwidth to relitigate what I ate for lunch yesterday. But the sheer persistence of these people is genuinely something to behold.
Recent polling suggests a growing share of Brits think Brexit was a bad call. Shocking. It's almost like telling voters "this will be great" and then delivering a decade of economic sluggishness wasn't the winning strategy everyone promised. Who could have predicted that trade barriers would, in fact, create barriers to trade?
The rejoin movement's latest pitch boils down to: "Hey, remember when things were fine? Let's do that again." It's the geopolitical equivalent of texting your ex "u up?" at 2 a.m. Except the ex is 27 countries with a combined GDP of roughly $17 trillion, and they've kind of moved on.
Critics point out that rejoining wouldn't be simple. The UK lost its sweetheart deal — the rebates, the opt-outs, the special treatment. Getting back in now would mean accepting the euro, joining Schengen, and basically showing up to the party hat in hand after storming out and slamming the door. Awkward.
But the remainers don't care about awkward. They care about the vibes. And the vibes, according to them, were better inside the club. Freedom of movement meant you could work in Berlin, study in Barcelona, and retire in Portugal without a visa application longer than a CVS receipt. Now? Good luck explaining your six-month stay limit to a customs officer who has heard every excuse in the book.
Supporters of staying out argue that sovereignty matters more than convenience. Fair enough. But sovereignty doesn't fill the produce aisle, and it definitely doesn't negotiate your trade terms. Turns out "taking back control" was mostly just taking back paperwork.
The rejoiners have also gotten clever with their framing. It's not "we were wrong," it's "the circumstances have changed." It's not "we want back in," it's "we're exploring a closer relationship." It's the political version of "I'm not apologizing, I'm just saying I understand why you're upset."
Will the UK actually rejoin the EU? Unlikely in the near term. British politics has the structural integrity of a Jenga tower after three glasses of wine. But the remain movement isn't going anywhere, and honestly, you have to respect the commitment. These people have been fighting a losing battle for almost ten years with the energy of someone who just discovered a new diet.
So here's to the remainers — still bitter, still hopeful, still reminding everyone that they told us so. It's not annoying at all. It's just extremely, relentlessly, historically annoying. But you know what? They might have a point.
The real takeaway here is that voters are allowed to change their minds, and pretending otherwise is how you end up with policies nobody wants and leaders nobody trusts. If Britain wants to reconsider its relationship with Europe, that's democracy working as intended. And if the remainers are still mad about 2016? Honestly, same energy as everyone still mad about the 2016 election over here. At least they're consistent.