A Brexit could mean more regulation for small businesses, not less

Questions raised at a recent New Statesman roundtable challenge the ‘better off out’ argument.

‘Britain is shackled to the corpse of Europe’, wrote the MEP and polemicist Daniel Hannan last November. Often central to this argument is the notion that Brussels red tape is strangling the potential of small businesses, which could be a fundamental driver of our economic growth. If we left, we could dictate the terms of our trade with Europe. Recent tumult amongst the Conservative ranks would suggest that Hannan is not unique in this view. However, the idea is rooted in a fundamental misconception about our relationship with the EU- that exit would lead to less regulation for small businesses.

In a recent roundtable held by the New Statesman discussing the methods by which Britain might increase exports amongst small and medium enterprises (SMEs), Dr. Rebecca Harding, CEO of Delta Economics, suggested that exit from the EU will result in more regulation, not less. This is based on previous research conducted by Delta Economics in collaboration with UKTI, which shows that the amount of distance regulation would in fact increase. Non-UK companies outside of the EU but inside European Free Trade Association (EFTA), most notably Norwegian and Swiss companies, have complained of being treated as being both outside and inside of Europe, thereby increasing the amount of bureaucracy that they are forced to face. Further information about this research and the work of Delta can be found here.

Therefore, even if we accept the premise that our relationship with the EU is primarily about trade rather than the more utopian social democratic vision of Europe as a protector of rights and freedoms, it remains in our economic interest to stay in. This strikes at the heart of the economic pillar of the Eurosceptic ‘better off out’ argument. This also questions the oft-touted premise that Britain should, or even could, aspire to a ‘Norwegian-style’ relationship with the EU.

Instead, evidence suggests that small businesses stand to benefit from further economic integration. At the New Statesman round table, Helen Brand showed that even further removal of barriers to the achievement of the single market could provide invaluable trade opportunities for SME’s- potentially increasing trade by 45%. Findings from the progressive think-tank Institute for Public Policy Research (IPPR) further support this- suggesting that further integration of the single market could increase EU consumption by €37 billion, thereby providing ample opportunities for small business growth. Even the prime minister's newly appointed strategist Jo Johnson agrees, arguing in a recent essay that further integration would leave the average EU household £3,570 better off.

The more reasoned political voices on this issue remain oddly silent in the face of popular pressure, despite the fact that it marks a point of accord between the progressive Europhile and pro-trade business lobbies. As IPPR notes, neither the British government nor the EU itself have done enough to convince of its benefits, and myths have abounded. If the argument was centered around our small business economy becoming more competitive and the ceaseless ‘global race’, perhaps our discourse would be more measured.

Research suggests SME's could face more regulation if we left the EU. Photo: Getty Images
Getty
Show Hide image

Wrists, knees, terrible rages – I felt overwhelmed when Barry came to see me

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state.

To begin with, it seemed that Barry’s wrists were the problem. He told me about the pain he was experiencing, the pins and needles that came and went in his hands. I started to examine him. His palms were calloused, his fingers thick and stubby, veterans of the heavy work he’d undertaken throughout his 57 years. Even as I assessed this first problem, he mentioned his knees. I moved on to look at those. Then it was his back. I couldn’t get to grips with one thing before he veered to the next.

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state. Barry was making me feel overwhelmed, the more so as I learned that he’d been experiencing all these problems for years.

“Why are you coming to see me about them now,” I asked, “rather than six months ago – or in six months’ time?”

“I need some time off, doc.”

There was something about the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. And again, that feeling of being overwhelmed.

“What’s going on at work?” I asked him.

His tone hardened as he told me how he’d lost his temper a couple of days earlier. How one of the others had been winding him up, and something inside him had snapped, and he’d taken a swing at his workmate and landed a punch.

Barry had walked out and hadn’t been back. I tried to find out if he’d heard from his boss about the incident, if he knew what was likely to happen next.

He told me he didn’t care.

We talked some more. I learned that he’d been uncharacteristically short-tempered for months; his partner was fed up with being shouted at. Sleep had gone to pot, and Barry had taken to drinking heavily to knock himself out at night. He was smoking twice his usual amount. Men like Barry often don’t experience depression as classic low mood and tearfulness; they become filled with rage and turn in on themselves, repelling those closest to them in the process.

Depression is a complex condition, with roots that can frequently be traced right back to childhood experiences, but bouts are often precipitated by problems with relationships, work, money, or health. In Barry’s case, the main factor turned out to be his job. He’d been an HGV driver but at the start of the year his company had lost its operator’s licence. To keep the business afloat, his boss had diversified. Barry hated what he now had to do. He was now a “catcher”.

I didn’t know what that meant. Getting up at the crack of dawn, he told me, driving to some factory farm somewhere, entering huge sheds and spending hours catching chickens, thousands upon thousands of them, shoving them into crates, stashing the crates on a lorry, working under relentless pressure to get the sheds cleared and the birds off to the next stage of the food production chain.

“It’s a young man’s game,” he told me. “It’s crippling me, all that bending and catching.”

It wasn’t really his joints, though. Men like Barry can find it hard to talk about difficult emotion, but it was there in his eyes. I had a sudden understanding: Barry, capturing bird after panicking bird, stuffing them into the transport containers, the air full of alarmed clucking and dislodged feathers. Hour after hour of it. It was traumatising him, but he couldn’t admit anything so poncey.

“I just want to get back to driving.”

That would mean landing a new job, and he doubted he would be able to do so, not at his age. He couldn’t take just any old work, either: he had to earn a decent wage to keep up with a still sizeable mortgage.

We talked about how antidepressants might improve his symptoms, and made a plan to tackle the alcohol. I signed him off to give him some respite and a chance to look for new work – the one thing that was going to resolve his depression. But in the meantime, he felt as trapped as the chickens that he cornered, day after soul-destroying day.

Phil Whitaker’s novel “Sister Sebastian’s Library” will be published by Salt in September

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt