A decade has passed since the 2016 Brexit referendum, an event that fundamentally recalibrated the British political landscape. What began as a policy question has solidified into a core identity, fundamentally altering how Britons perceive themselves and each other. The shift from traditional party allegiances to an entrenched 'Remain' or 'Leave' persona has proven remarkably durable, with 60% of Britons still identifying by their vote from a decade ago.
This is not merely a matter of policy disagreement. It is a profound societal re-tribalization. The initial campaign, while intense, was only the precursor. New research, detailed in Tribal Politics: How Brexit Divided Britain by Sara Hobolt and James Tilley, reveals that the aftermath of the vote was even more crucial in forging these new identities. Emotional attachment to a Brexit identity, while present before polling day, saw its most significant jump after the results were declared. The argument, far from concluding, intensified, becoming a public, pervasive feature of national life.
Once the match is over, the fans keep shouting and they get a lot louder.
The tribalism, rather than fading, has remained robust. It dictates not only views on Brexit's success but also perceptions of the 'other side'. Remainers often view leavers as selfish and closed-minded, with the sentiment being mutual. By 2025, the data indicates that only about 40% of either side can tolerate discussing politics with the other. This is not mild opposition; it is evidence of discrimination, extending to preferences on who shares a home or marries into a family.
Hobolt and Tilley further illustrate how this division extends to the very perception of facts. As late as 2024, the two sides continued to argue over the fundamental state of the economy. This divergence on objective reality underscores the depth of the identity-based schism, making productive discourse exceedingly difficult.
The backdrop to this cultural fracturing is the decline of traditional class politics. For much of the 20th century, class defined British political allegiances. However, a previous study co-authored by Tilley points to Labour's shift to the political center-ground in the 1990s as a key driver in the erosion of class-based voting. When class is effectively banished from the political discourse, a vacuum emerges, readily filled by culture wars. Brexit, fundamentally an economic and trading decision, was framed by the Leave campaign around immigration, a potent cultural 'baseball bat' to wield against opposition.
The policy differences between Remainers and Leavers, as summarized in the research, are telling. Top of the list are immigration, foreign aid, and the death penalty. Conspicuously absent are significant disagreements on issues like economic equality, worker rights, or public ownership. This indicates a political landscape where the primary battlegrounds are cultural, rather than those that directly impact the economic realities of most citizens.
This focus on cultural flashpoints, divorced from substantive economic policy, creates a form of 'empty politics'. It is a system that, perhaps ironically, benefits those already prosperous. The architects and key figures of the Brexit campaign, even those whose predictions proved flawed or whose side 'lost' power, often found themselves in positions of continued influence, securing lucrative consultancies or speaking fees. The consequences of the referendum, a national breakdown that pitted neighbors and families against each other, disproportionately impacted the average citizen.
The British political system, a decade on, appears frozen in this post-Brexit tribalism. The initial vote was an elite debacle that metastasized into a prolonged national division. The implications for trade, development, and social cohesion are profound, with the country still grappling with the fallout of identities forged in a single, polarizing moment.
