Coronavirus is the new Brexit—with even higher stakes

You could be forgiven a sense of déjà vu. The self-aggrandising ministerial statements. The growing dependence on slogans. Wondering if the government is intentionally confusing people or just hopelessly out of control. During this new, much graver crisis, the government is not simply refusing to heed the lessons of Brexit: it is repeating the song almost word for word.

First, of course, is the bluster and exceptionalism. This is not a problem confined to theory. It has demonstrable real-life consequences. It became a tragicomic motif of Brexit to assert that the EU needed us more than we needed them, that we could enjoy the “exact same benefits” of membership, and that we would “take back control” we had unjustly lost.

When coronavirus struck, too, Boris Johnson had his lines ready to go: we had world-class research and testing facilities, and world-class healthcare, and on that basis we were prepared. The intervening disasters have forced the prime minister to confront the seriousness of this disease. Yet even with the highest death toll in Europe, Johnson cannot resist the opportunity to boast about the progress his government has made.

Underlying both cases was the assumption that we were the best at everything. Ministers believed their own hype, and that hype could substitute for a plan.

Then there is the notion of responsibility. Both Brexit and the virus are to be owned not by politicians but by voters. Although nobody in Downing Street this time will claim the virus is the “will of the people,” the government feigns the same transfer of power. It is issuing us with contradictory advice or instructions or both, and blaming us for what inevitably comes next. Of course people continued going to pubs, restaurants and gyms in early March while the government was talking about “herd immunity.” Of course they drove to beauty spots and went sunbathing when the government failed to give clear reasons not to. Of course they are now frequenting parks and beaches in larger numbers, and risking their safety going to work, because the government has advised them they can. Ordinary voters are not epidemiologists, and this is not about common sense or personal freedom. It is the government rejecting accountability and scapegoating the people.

Really it is about communication. During this crisis the government has focussed on supportive media outlets, boycotting Newsnight just as it did the Today programme after the general election. It offers a daily parade of ministers not to provide valuable information, but to advertise how well things are going and defend itself against valid criticism. It massages figures (in the latest instance, double-counting thousands of virus tests). And it tells blatant untruths. Contrary to Health Secretary Matt Hancock’s proclamation, the government did not “throw a protective ring around care homes,” and despite Johnson’s denial in parliament, the government did in fact advise that there was no risk to those in care homes as recently as mid-March.

Meanwhile, instead of clear public service announcements, the government tells us to “stay alert” to “control the virus.” The problem is not the ambition to recycle Brexit’s greatest hits, but that slogans cannot replace policy.

The root of this is a government acting to protect itself. With Brexit it was about promoting the interests of the Conservative Party over the country. With the virus it is about self-preservation and panicked back-covering. In both cases millions of livelihoods—and in this case actual lives—have been treated too much as political problems. Both could be managed with slogans, or by chasing the headlines of a news cycle.

The government has, of course, had a long time to perfect the art of storytelling. Since 2016, it has told us that we can keep everything while giving up nothing. This week the UK duly published proposals explaining how it would minimise Brexit’s costs and cherry-pick the best possible settlement. Tariffs could be like Canada’s, fisheries could be like Norway’s, and there would be no need for any new border infrastructure in Northern Ireland despite an entirely new customs regime. Chief negotiator David Frost sent his EU counterpart Michel Barnier a defiant letter justifying the British position. Barnier, in turn, argued that the EU was merely implementing the political declaration both sides had already agreed.

The UK can, of course, make any demand it likes, and the EU can likewise refuse it. The point is that there is no time to grandstand and this, in any event, would not be that time. No matter how high the stakes become, the government can advance no further than its old playbook: that is, to play games. With both crises, the government is eschewing honesty for a moment of political theatre.

Brexit and the virus are not the same—not simply because one is more serious than the other, but because one was conceived in purely abstract terms. Brexit was intangible and its consequences were ignored. The virus was initially wished away but did in fact have an immediate life outside the imagination. Perhaps the government could have been forgiven for copying Brexit’s song-sheet if it had produced a decent tune. But, just as each stage of Brexit exposed the grim reality, so does each stage of the virus. The government insisted we were prepared. We were not. They denied we were only two weeks behind Italy. We were. They deemed test-and-tracing no longer necessary. It was. Whenever they were confronted by the truth, they simply hid behind a comforting story until there was nowhere left to go.

What we saw when the stakes were lower, we now see again. Brexit should have been treated as an economic problem and the virus should have been treated as a catastrophe of public health. Both have too often played second fiddle to politics. The government is demonstrating the same incompetence, denial, and cynicism that it has since 2016. Ultimately, the same chaos.