Paul Taylor, a contributing editor at POLITICO, writes the Europe At Large column.
PARIS — The Europeans came prepared to play three-dimensional chess, but the British seem to have shown up dressed to play rugby instead.
The start of negotiations on future relations between the United Kingdom and the European Union has turned into an unsporting mismatch. British Prime Minister Boris Johnson no longer seems to care about objectives his government signed up to just a few months ago, leaving Brussels struggling to hold London to common standards once the Withdrawal Agreement transition period the two sides negotiated expires at the end of this year.
Johnson has turned his back on the commitment to a regulatory level playing field set out in the declaration on future relations, which he signed in October along with the withdrawal treaty and which his Conservative Party endorsed in parliament in January after it won a thumping majority.
The government has also dropped all talk of seeking a “deep and special” relationship, or of “frictionless trade,” and seems to have written off hope of a long-term deal ensuring access for the U.K.’s giant financial services industry. Ministers have made clear that they put the sovereign right to diverge from EU rules above any economic benefit, and they have instructed businesses and farmers to prepare for friction at the borders.
“The U.K. will maintain the highest standards in these areas, better in many respects than those of the EU, without the compulsion of a treaty” — Prime Minister Boris Johnson
It could all be a grand bluff. But barring another last-minute Johnson pivot in mid-year as the steep cost of a chaotic no-deal rupture comes into sharper focus, the U.K. appears to be steering toward a far more disruptive break on a much shorter timescale than EU policymakers had contemplated.
Having stressed since the 2016 Brexit referendum that the U.K. wanted to maintain close security, foreign policy and defense ties, the official document setting out Britain’s approach to future relations does not even mention diplomatic or military cooperation — only law enforcement and justice. U.K. officials now say they don’t want any institutional connection to EU foreign or defense policy, just ad hoc collaboration on missions deemed to serve British interests.
This all gives EU negotiator Michel Barnier little leverage to achieve Brussels’ preferred outcome of a smooth landing with a close economic partnership within a broader association agreement. Barnier says his mission is to try to “rebuild what was unraveled by Brexit” and that Britain’s access to the EU market will be proportionate to its willingness to give “firm guarantees” that it will respect a level playing field.
But dangling a generous zero-tariff, zero-quota trade deal will not be enough to secure U.K. alignment with EU rules if London chooses to take the hit of trading on barebones World Trade Organization terms, including tariffs and quotas.
Johnson has asserted the right to diverge à la carte from EU rules, whether they were adopted while the U.K. was a member or after its departure, without saying which ones he plans to discard.
While EU neighbors worry about the specter of a low-cost, casino-capitalism Britain undercutting continental labor, environmental, taxation or food-safety standards, the real risk may be more of a nimble high-tech rival on Europe’s doorstep attracting cutting-edge science while the EU clamps regulatory handcuffs on artificial intelligence, big data and biotechnology.
“The U.K. will maintain the highest standards in these areas, better in many respects than those of the EU, without the compulsion of a treaty,” the prime minister declared last month. The EU cannot base a legally binding free-trade agreement on such unenforceable verbal assurances.
Without such a deal, car manufacturers such as Japan’s Nissan and Honda or Germany’s BMW will face major supply chain disruption and may have to choose whether to produce to EU or British standards, to run separate assembly lines or simply to shutter their U.K. plants.
Inebriated by election triumph, Johnson and his top adviser, Dominic Cummings, dream of turning the U.K. into an innovation-driven “Silicon-Valley-by-the-North-Sea” rather than the deregulated finance-driven “Singapore-on-the-Thames” tax haven, or the gateway for “Frankenstein foods,” that gives the French nightmares.
The U.K.’s new negotiator, David Frost, gave the clearest exposition of this objective in a speech in Brussels last month. “We are going to have a huge advantage over the EU — the ability to set regulations for new sectors, the new ideas and new conditions — quicker than the EU can, and based on sound science not fear of the future,” he said.
The government has promised to double research spending in the next four years after it loses access to EU science funding, of which it was the biggest recipient.
“I have no doubt that we will be able to encourage new investment and new ideas in this way — particularly given our plans to boost spend on scientific research, attract scientists and make Britain the best country in the world to do science.”
Johnson’s proposed brains-over-brawn points-based immigration system is designed to recruit top talent while closing the door to low-skilled migrants, even if that hurts the hospitality, catering, social care, farming and construction sectors.
Plenty of other places around the world are trying to brand themselves as tech hubs — from Berlin to Beijing and Bahrain to Bengaluru. Only one seems to be contemplating starting that quest by voluntarily cutting itself off from its biggest export market.
The government has promised to double research spending in the next four years after it loses access to EU science funding, of which it was the biggest recipient. That is one of several big-ticket pledges that have yet to be financed, including huge infrastructure projects and a home-made satellite navigation system to rival the EU’s Galileo. Paying for them amid the economic disruption of a no-deal Brexit breakup looks like it will be a tall order.
That leads many in Brussels to dismiss Johnson’s goal as a mirage, given the relative size of the U.K.’s 65-million-people economy compared with the EU’s 450-million-strong single market. But there’s little if anything Brussels can do to stop the British leader from taking such a high-risk gamble. If successful, it might prompt emulators elsewhere on the Continent.
“If they want to administer shock therapy to the U.K. economy and attempt a conversion that would normally take 25 years in a couple of years, that’s a choice for the U.K. but I don’t see how you would avoid a sudden shock,” said a nervous EU official close to the talks.
In the run-up to this week’s talks, the EU ramped up “level playing field” demands based on French-led fears of social, tax or environmental dumping just 33 kilometers from Calais. Across the Channel, the Brits wrapped themselves in the Union Jack, threatening to walk away from the talks as early as June if no deal is in sight, and looking to leverage parallel trade talks with the United States.
They also vowed to curb EU fishermen’s access to British fishing waters on an annual basis, even though U.K. boats land three-quarters of their catch on the Continent. That could trigger disruption in North Sea ports and even lead to violence.
Much of this can be discounted as a Haka war dance before the kickoff. But if the U.K. is truly bent on playing a completely different sport rather than just adopting hardball tactics, to coin another sporting metaphor, then all bets are off.