I was in London the night of the Brexit vote. The confidence of Londoners was quite something. Despite what the polls said (and the polls were rather close when you aggregated them). The city was relatively quiet, but bad weather (a torrential downpour, flooding, etc) had caused many to go home early to avoid the rush and get their vote in. Then the vote happened. And the city the next morning was quieter. Very very quiet. No one could quite believe the amount by which their side lost. More to that, they had to question all the assumptions they had made about, well, everything. About their fellow Britons. Suddenly realizing the fact (or truth) that they had more in common with Parisians than with someone just 50 miles away. They had no idea. The calamity that might befall them had been impossible for them to contemplate. So when you say “who knows?” it is not only valid, it’s on point. Who knows? We don’t know anyone anymore. We all live in our niches and rarely venture out of it. This has resulted not only in a lack of empathy but a kind of tribal blindness. I didn’t watch the debate because I knew I would get the wrong impression of what really was happening. Social media in general kind of confirms that. The two sides are fighting for maybe 5% of the population right now. I guess it’s best to ask them. I’m staying out. Then again, I’m Canadian.

Writer. Complainer. I drink bourbon. I have edited media, worked in content and branding and strategy, and chances are I’ll do those things again. @arjunbasu

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