It was a whopping big chunk of ice, if I recall correctly. That, and a dollop of hubris.

The Titanic was going a bit too fast, the lookouts didn’t see the iceberg until a bit too late, the ship scraped past a bit too near, and the iceberg punched a few too many holes in the hull.

Water poured in, the ship filled up with water and then it sank.

2200 on board, 1500 dead.

Mostly men.

This was back in 1912, before feminism – if it happened today there would be lots of women demanding to stay on board and take their chances in the icy water.

But I digress.

Soon after the Titanic hit, a few of the more aware passengers started thinking about lifeboats – they decided that the Titanic was probably going down, and they didn’t want to be on board for that.

These “early adopters” spent an extra few hours sitting in the lifeboats as a result, drifting aimlessly in the freezing Atlantic – the distant strains of Mozart drifting to them across the still surface of the water.

They shivered in the little wooden boats as the more sanguine passengers stood haughtily on the deck, sipping their brandy and enjoying the music. Some sat down to a nice meal, or even retired to their cabins.

Of course once the water started pouring over the gunwales, events took on a certain urgency.

A bit like the EU.

For years now they have insisted there is no problem – the EU is fine. Drink your brandy.

But the Brexiteers knew it was doomed, and voted with their feet.

They now sit in their little boats. Cold and all alone, they have endured the taunts of the passengers still on board, who stand wrapped in their expensive furs, sipping their brandy and not hiding their contempt for the bobbing imbeciles across the water. Even their countrymen regard them with contempt, especially the youthful, who have never seen a ship go down before.

But now a certain amount of worry is creeping in on board – a few votes have recently gone badly, and the contemptuous reactions of the EU have horrified even some of their erstwhile supporters. Some of those who were once happy to stay on board are starting to worry not just about the soundness of the vessel, but also the behaviour of the crew.

Ah, the crew.

The awful truth is starting to dawn on the crew – they know that in an hour, their vaunted project will sit on the ocean floor.

What can they do?

Well, nothing whatever about the boat, but they certainly don’t want the blame for all the screaming and horror to come. So to prevent the panicking passengers turning on them, they will soon start blaming the people in the lifeboats.

Soon the headlines will start to say things like “Is Brexit damaging the EU?”

Then it will be “Has Brexit broken Europe” (notice the conflation between the bureaucrats in Brussels and the people of Europe there)

Finally, your Remainiac friends and families will tell you that the collapse of the EU is your fault, if you voted for Brexit.

Just remember to tell them – the People In the Lifeboats Didn’t Sink The Titanic.

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8 COMMENTS

  1. To make the analogy complete, the crew of the Titanic would need to ask themselves “what can we do to get ourselves out of this mess?” … and start looking around frantically for other icebergs to deliberately ram.

  2. The Titanic sank because the bulkheads that compartmentalised the ship so that it would be ‘unsinkable’ did not go all the way up to deck level. This was for cosmetic purposes at the request of the Company, to avoid the lines of the long sweeping corridors being broken by bulkheads

    As the bow lowered, water just spilled over from one compartment into the next.

    Appearences rather than practicality, grand ambition in place of reality, hubris, sequential failure – yes Titanic, EU good analogy.