Brexit remains incomplete, hanging on whether each side will act in good faith
Five years after British voters chose to leave the European Union by the narrowest of margins, the United Kingdom finds itself in a peculiar liminal state — formally departed, yet constitutionally unsettled, economically entangled, and politically unreconciled. The promised catastrophes did not come, nor did the promised freedoms, and what remains is something harder to name: a nation that has learned the vocabulary of governance through the painful grammar of its own division. The Northern Ireland protocol stands as the unresolved knot at the centre of an agreement that may take decades to fully untangle, while trust — between citizens and institutions, between Britain and Europe — continues to erode as both sides wait to see whether good faith will prevail.
- The referendum that was meant to settle the question of Europe instead opened a wound that five years of negotiation, legislation, and political upheaval have failed to close.
- Brexit identity has displaced party loyalty as the defining fault line in British politics, with both Leavers and Remainers united only in their distrust of the deal that was actually struck.
- The Northern Ireland protocol — negotiated by Boris Johnson, won on at the ballot box, and now described by his own team as unworkable — has become the central obstacle to any claim that Brexit is truly finished.
- Institutional trust has collapsed on multiple fronts: faith in parliament, the courts, and the government has eroded among voters on both sides, leaving the machinery of democratic governance under sustained strain.
- The UK and EU remain bound by geography, trade volume, and decades of regulatory entanglement, meaning the wrangling will continue long after the headlines have moved on.
On the morning after the June 2016 referendum, the two most searched questions in the United Kingdom were what the European Union was, and what leaving it actually meant. It was a quietly devastating signal: the country had voted on a proposition it did not fully understand. Even the minister tasked with negotiating the departure later admitted he had not grasped how dependent British trade was on the English Channel crossing. The famous promise of £350 million a week for the NHS proved to be statistical fiction — yet the economic catastrophe that Remain campaigners warned of never materialised either. What arrived instead was a grinding national education in the mechanics of trade, sovereignty, and constitutional law.
The referendum split the country almost exactly in half, and that split has not softened. More than four in five voters say they would make the same choice again, yet surveys since 2016 show a narrow but consistent majority for Remain. Brexit identity now matters more to people than their traditional party allegiances — a realignment that even the Conservatives' sweeping 2019 victory could not fully conceal, given that a majority of votes that year went to parties calling for a second referendum. The one thing both sides share is dissatisfaction with the deal that was ultimately obtained.
Trust has been the deepest casualty. Distrust in government was already a powerful force driving the Leave vote in 2016, but the years since have extended that corrosion to parliament, the judiciary, and the relationship between Westminster and the devolved nations. The Conservative manifesto once accused judges of thwarting democracy; now it is Remain voters who express the sharpest disillusionment with democratic norms. Between Britain and the European Union, trust has reached what both sides describe as an all-time low.
Boris Johnson's promise to 'Get Brexit Done' has been technically fulfilled — the UK has left. But the trade and cooperation agreement it secured is a thin foundation: duty-free goods trade, but a thicket of non-tariff barriers, customs complications, and regulatory divergence that will require years of further negotiation. The Northern Ireland protocol, which Johnson himself championed, has become the central unresolved problem — a border arrangement so complex that his own negotiating team now calls it unexpectedly unworkable.
For the European Union, Brexit forced an uncomfortable reckoning with its own fractures — economic, migratory, and constitutional — even as it brought the remaining 27 members into rare unity. For Britain, it has been a constitutional moment in the fullest sense: the relationship between executive and parliament is strained, the devolved governments are restless, and the state now holds regulatory powers whose use will define what kind of country the UK intends to become. Geography and economics ensure that Britain will not drift away from Europe. The two sides will continue to negotiate, dispute, and reckon with each other — and with themselves — for a long time yet.
On June 23, 2016, British voters made a choice that would reshape the country's relationship with itself as much as with Europe. The referendum result—51.9 percent to leave, 48.1 percent to remain—was decisive in outcome but not in consensus. Five years later, the United Kingdom has formally departed the European Union, yet the rupture that vote created remains unhealed, and the work of actually leaving remains unfinished.
In the immediate aftermath, something telling happened. The second most searched question in the UK the day after the referendum was "What is the European Union?" The first was "What does it mean to leave the European Union?" The British public, it seemed, had voted on a proposition they did not fully understand. Even Dominic Raab, the Brexit secretary tasked with negotiating the departure, later admitted he had not grasped how dependent British trade was on crossing the English Channel. The famous promise painted on a bus—that £350 million weekly would flow to the NHS instead of Brussels—turned out to be statistical sleight of hand. Yet the economic catastrophe that opponents predicted never arrived either. What emerged instead was a grinding education in the mechanics of trade: Article 50, Sanitary and Phytosanitary Measures, Henry VIII powers, GATT XXIV. The vocabulary of Brexit became the vocabulary of governance itself. But one critical lesson came too late: the true complexity of Northern Ireland and the border it shares with the Republic, a problem that would come to define whether Brexit could ever truly be considered finished.
The referendum revealed a nation split almost evenly down the middle, and that split has not healed. More than four in five voters say they would cast the same ballot again. Yet surveys since 2016 show a consistent, if narrow, majority for Remain. The British public remains essentially divided, with Brexit identity now mattering more to people than their traditional party allegiances. Even the 2019 general election, won decisively by the Conservatives on a pro-Brexit platform, masked a deeper fracture: 52 percent of votes went to parties calling for a second referendum. The only thing both sides agree on is their dislike of the deal that was actually obtained.
Trust, in a complex world, is the currency that allows people and institutions to function despite uncertainty. It is the bet we make on each other's good faith. In the five years since the referendum, that currency has depreciated sharply. Distrust in government was a powerful predictor of how people voted in 2016, but the years since have corroded faith in parliament and the courts as well. The Conservative Party's 2019 manifesto accused judges of "thwarting the democratic decision of the British people." Now it is Remain voters, feeling they lost, who express the deepest dissatisfaction with democratic standards. Between the UK and the EU, trust has hit what both sides describe as an all-time low, hanging now on whether each will implement the divorce agreement in good faith.
Boris Johnson promised to "Get Brexit Done." The UK has left the European Union. But Brexit itself is nowhere near finished. The trade and cooperation agreement negotiated is the thinnest of deals—duty and quota-free trade in goods, but little else. It has introduced a thicket of non-tariff barriers, customs procedures, and regulatory complications that will require years, perhaps decades, of further negotiation. The Northern Ireland protocol, which Johnson himself negotiated and won an election on, has become the central knot. His chief negotiator now describes it as unexpectedly unworkable. Until that protocol is resolved, Brexit remains incomplete.
The European Union, meanwhile, faces its own reckoning. The past decade exposed deep fractures: the financial crisis revealed weak economic governance; the migration crisis exposed the limits of solidarity; the rule of law crisis in Hungary and Poland questioned the union's foundational purpose. Brexit brought the remaining 27 member states into unprecedented unity, but also forced a soul-searching about what the union actually is and what it should become. The loss of a major member state has redrawn the internal landscape and forced a redefinition of Europe's relationship with its neighbors.
For Britain, Brexit has been what some call a "constitutional moment." The relationship between parliament and the executive has grown strained. The devolved governments of Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland find themselves at odds with Westminster. The courts face renewed scrutiny. The government now holds regulatory powers it did not have before, and how it uses them will shape the British state itself. Yet geography and economics bind the UK to Europe still. The volume of trade, the proximity, the sheer entrenchedness of the relationship means Britain will not drift into the Atlantic. Instead, the two sides will continue to wrangle—with each other and with themselves—for years to come.
Notable Quotes
The day after the referendum, the second most Googled question in the UK was 'What is the European Union?'— Analysis of post-referendum search data
Brexit secretary Dominic Raab had not fully understood how reliant the UK's goods trade is on crossing the English Channel— Reported admission by Raab
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Five years on, do people actually understand what they voted for in 2016?
The learning curve has been steep and often painful. People now know about tariff schedules and regulatory alignment in ways they didn't before. But that knowledge came after the vote, not before. The real blind spot was Northern Ireland—nobody adequately grasped how complicated that border would become.
The referendum was close. Has that closeness healed at all?
Not really. The split remains almost exactly where it was. What's changed is that being a Remainer or a Leaver now matters more to people than whether they vote Labour or Conservative. The identity has calcified.
Both sides seem unhappy with the actual deal that was reached.
Yes. That's perhaps the only thing they agree on. The deal is so thin—it covers trade in goods but leaves everything else unresolved. It's created more problems than it solved, especially around Northern Ireland.
Why does Northern Ireland matter so much?
Because it's the hinge on which the entire agreement turns. Johnson negotiated the protocol, won an election on it, and now his own negotiators say it's unworkable. Until that's fixed, Brexit isn't actually done.
Can trust between the UK and EU be rebuilt?
It's at an all-time low. Both sides say so. It depends entirely on whether each acts in good faith implementing the agreement. That's a fragile foundation for a relationship that will last centuries.
So this is going to drag on for years?
Probably decades. The negotiations are likely to continue for a very long time. This isn't something that gets resolved and then life moves on. It's structural now.