Those suffering from ‘Brexit fatigue’ need to get it together – the future of the country is worth getting a bit bored about

The worst thing that can happen now is that people become just so damn bored of Brexit that they throw in the towel

The inaptly named Huw Merriman, a Conservative MP, says that Brexit stress and abuse from the public has triggered a rapid loss of weight. Merriman, the parliamentary private secretary to chancellor Philip Hammond, told the BBC Radio 5 Live’s Drive programme that someone had suggested he should be “shot” for “treason”.

He added: “Do you know what? I’ve lost a lot of weight, which might be a good thing. I’ve gone from over a 34 to almost under a 30 now. Actually, that’s purely down to what’s going on.”

I sympathise. But we need more Brexit, not less. So thanks, Jeremy Corbyn for collapsing your talks with the government (near enough), which means we’ll not be leaving the EU “early” on 12 April (or late, depending on your point of view). And thanks to Yvette Cooper for virtually outlawing a no-deal Brexit.

Most of all, thank you, thank you, thank you, Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald Tusk, that is, president of the European Council, Anglophile, solid ally of the United Kingdom, English springer spaniel owner and I suppose a bit of a Dutch, or rather Polish, uncle to his “British friends”, as he always calls us.

Thank you, then, for a whole extra year of Brexit under the one-year “flextension”. By this time next year the 2016 referendum result will be almost four years old. The mandate is getting mouldy.

Brexit is disappearing fast in the rearview mirror. Why, even Theresa May now says we’re going to have European elections too. Can you imagine the fun there? The first seats for Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party. Under proportional representation they don’t necessarily split the vote (although if they poll badly they may live to regret standing against one another). Much the same goes for the new Independent Group/Change UK, pitching for much the same voters as the Lib Dems. They could do rather well also, taking an alternative message to Strasbourg and Brussels.

I can hear you lot groaning. “Brexit fatigue” is what they call it, a nasty disease with many of the symptoms of narcolepsy. It is spreading across Britain and indeed the continent. Cases have been reported in Brussels, Berlin and Dublin. Even Jean-Claude Juncker himself has declared himself suffering the typical symptoms of becoming tired and emotional after excessive exposure to the Malthouse Compromise (a political term, not a type of ale).

Well, the worst thing that can happen now is that people become just so damn bored of Brexit that they “throw in the towel”. It’s exactly what the prime minister, in some desperation, tried to argue in one of her disastrous impromptu broadcasts the other week. It was as manipulative as she gets, which is to say it fooled no one:

“You, the public, have had enough. You’re tired of the infighting; you’re tired of the political games and the arcane procedural rows, tired of MPs talking about nothing else but Brexit when you have real concerns about our children’s schools, our National Health Service, knife crime.

“You want this stage of the Brexit process to be over and done with. I agree. I am on your side.”

As if. I wonder what she’ll try next? “I’ve got your kids”?

Getting fed up with Brexit is the last thing we should be doing. Indeed, that truth would apply now to both sides of the debate, both armies in this war of attrition. Remainers suffered under the constant bombardment of “Brexit means Brexit” until suddenly it didn’t. Now it is the Leavers’ turn to feel that sense of dread that their own dream is being pushed further and further towards the horizon.

Well, the future of the country is worth getting a bit bored about, don’t you think? Do you really, for example, want to see much of the manufacturing industry, British agriculture and the City destroyed because we couldn’t be arsed to put up some resistance to a no-deal Brexit? Or, being fair, would you prefer to see our United Kingdom permanently under the domination of foreign powers just because you’d rather watch a film than go out on a march, or something?

Well quite. You would not want your condition of Brexit fatigue to transmute into Brexit psychosis, would you?

And when businesses declare, as they so often do, that the worst thing is “uncertainty”, I beg to differ. If I was getting onto an aeroplane say (no names, no pack drill) I would be much happier being suspended in a state of modest uncertainty as to whether I would get to my destination than the certainty that it was going to crash just so I could plan for it. I’m sure you agree: certainty can be overrated.

The way to cure Brexit fatigue is as follows. First, stop going round in circles. Virtually everything now proposed to break the deadlock – talks with Corbyn, a Brexit extension, and indicative votes in the Commons – have been tried before with varying degrees of success. May’s tactics of running down the clock and threatening the other side of the debate have failed.

Second, realise that there is no such thing as a soft Brexit. By which I mean that every variation on it is a mere variety of the well-known conundrum of the UK becoming “rule-taker not rule breaker” – the vassal state, as Jacob Rees-Mogg used to call it. The only choice is between a buccaneering, Singapore model, turbo-charged Thatcherite free market hard Brexit; or staying in.

If there was a preferential voting system for Brexit I would opt for: 1) Remain; 2) Hard WTO Brexit; 3) May deal/Norway/European Economic Area, etc. It is perfectly logical to hold such a view. A Leaver, by the same token, might prefer to stay in the EU rather than accept May’s deal because at least you can possibly leave the EU – but you cannot necessarily unilaterally leave the backstop in the current withdrawal agreement.

Some Brexit options, both sides should agree, represent the worst of all worlds. When the Archbishop of Canterbury and other well-meaning souls talk of “compromise” it all sounds terribly reasonable – but it makes no real sense in reality. It all reinforces the case for making a decision – either in parliament or in a second referendum or both – via preferential voting rather than binary choices. If you can pick a second- or third-choice dish from a restaurant menu then you can handle a ballot paper asking you to rank your preferences. (If you wish. You can just put one choice down anyway.)

Thus you will be well on the road to recovery when you realise that the best hope of ending the agony is for the people to finish off the dirty job they gave our MPs back in 2016, and which they, entirely honourably, have failed to discharge. Leavers are now talking about the Leave case for a second referendum. Even though I am unsympathetic to their cause these days, I think it would only be democratic to allow for “WTO Brexit” – a hard Brexit – onto the ballot paper, alongside something like the May deal and the Remain option.

That would bring closure, allay the fevers and end Brexit fatigue.

I leave you, then, with the words of Uncle Donald: “Even if the hope for a final success may seem frail, even illusory, and although Brexit fatigue is increasingly visible and justified, we cannot give up seeking – until the very last moment – a positive solution.”

We should all agree on that. Electorate: heal thyself.