Weighing up the Norway, Switzerland and Turkey options. Photo: Getty
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An EU explainer for the easily bored: what happens if we leave?

Doom, whisky, and getting lost in mazes: what are the options for the UK flouncing out of the European Union?

It's some as-yet-unspecified time in 2017. I'm in the ballot box – maybe.

What? Well, Estonia's had online voting for ten years, about a third of votes are cast online via an app, and it's popular with younger people. So who know, maybe we could catch up with them. Although then young people might actually vote...

Fine. I've downloaded the app, and I'm ready! In or out??!?!

Of what? The EU, right? Yes, although don't forget there's the "renegotiation" first so the EU might look quite different.

OK, so we've got whatever the EU looks like as "in" – what's "out"? A very good question. There's four main options. Let's start with the Norwegian model.

Let's! OMG Scandinavians are soooo buff :) No, not that kind of model. Norway is a member of the European Free Trade Association (EFTA), which means it has access to the single market of the 28 EU member states.

Great, we can keep selling all those cars. Yes, and applying all the rules of the single market, ie. free movement of goods, people capital and services. Norway sell a lot of gas, oil and salmon to the EU – Vidar Helgesen, their minister for EU affairs, reckons the country provides Europe with 23m seafood meals a day, and they apply ALL the rules as well. But they don't get a say in making them.

All the rules? The vast majority. Agriculture is the big exception. According to Mr Helgesen, during the past 20 years, Norway has incorporated more than 10,000 EU rules into the EEA Agreement: roughly five acts of EU legislation for each day the Norwegian parliament has been sitting. It also has to pay into the EU budget.

Oh. To use an old Brussels chestnut, if you're not at the table, you're on the menu. And, to state the obvious, the UK doesn't have a bajillion squillion barrels of oil. Norway does.

OK, how about option two: Switzerland? You can make your own cuckoo-clock jokes: Switzerland has a close relationship with the EU based on a series of bilateral agreements, including a free trade deal signed in 1972. Switzerland is the EU's fourth largest trading partner, while the EU is Switzerland’s largest.

Sounds great! It's tempting. But they only get access to parts of the single market. And that doesn't include services, which is the part which is most interesting for the UK. Then last year, in a referendum, the country narrowly voted to reintroduce immigration quotas. After that, EU officials said Switzerland can't “cherry-pick” from the treaties.

So what happens? If the EU-Switzerland relationship were on Facebook, it'd be under "It's complicated". Politicians have until 2017 to figure out what to do. Any solution could set a precedent for what happens with a post-breakup UK. And they still pay a lot to the EU.

Alright. Option three? Turkey. It's in a customs union. So we could trade some goods without tariffs, etc, but not have to pay membership fees or bother with immigration. It was the first step in an EU accession program that stalled in 2002, and again, there's zero influence on anything the EU actually does.

Doesn't sound great. Also, bear in mind any of these options depend on the EU agreeing in a post-withdrawal negotiation – a bit like getting a divorce and then asking if you can still use the Wi-Fi, the bathroom three days a week and have your ex's loyalty-card points.

We could eavesdrop while using the bathroom. Right, all of these options rely on applying EU rules in the areas where you get the benefits, which is logical enough. If we left, those rules, standards, and plans would be decided without us in the room.

Unprecedented! No, it's not. We're not in the euro, and the countries that are still have meetings. So the UK Treasury used to formally instruct its permanent representation to send someone to sit outside the door "just in case they heard anything", according to someone who'd know.

What were they expecting? Nobody knows. In practice it meant senior British officials sitting in the corridor outside the room on floor 50 of the Council into the small hours of the morning. Totes embarrassing.

Floor 50? It's not that tall. It's just the rooms in all the EU-buildings are maze-like. Seriously, it's easier to find your way in space.

Currency union, borders, legal negotiations after an acrimonious split... this is reminding me of something... Right. Remember the Scottish referendum? And how the Scottish government said it’d like to stay in the EU, even while the Commission was all like “no you'd have to reapply like newbies”?

Nightmare. It would have been. As the Scotch Whisky Association points out, "the application of the EU's trade environment means Scotch has become more accessible to a far wider audience". It keeps a close eye on EU laws to make sure single malts can be sold across the single market. "Doubly important, as EU laws are sometimes used as the benchmark for other countries when considering new legislation," it adds. Again, businesses would still have to comply with EU standards to export goods there.

What if we just leave, completely? We could. We'd get a seat at the World Trade Organization, where we're currently represented as part of the EU. We could set up a free-trade deal with anyone who wanted one –although would you want to sign up with a country that had just flounced out of  a 28-country free-trade bloc? And there'd be total control of borders.

So that'll be option four. Yes, and Chris Patten summed it up nicely in a lecture in Oxford 15 years ago. "’Sovereignty’ – in the sense of unfettered freedom of action – is a nonsense. A man, naked, hungry and alone in the middle of the Sahara Desert is free in the sense that no one can tell him what to do. He is sovereign, then. But he is also doomed."

Frances Robinson has been covering the EU since 2006. Previously a staffer at the Wall Street Journal, she returned to the UK after a decade abroad to talk and write about the UK-EU relationship. 

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.