We Need To Talk About Scotland

So this independence thing may actually happen. I mean, good for Scotland, I guess. And good on them for the way they're doing it. But... it's complicated.

The only idea more romantic than an independent Scotland is the 300-year-old union to which it's bound. It's a relatively new creation, really, and probably not one that could've been expected to last forever. But it's been longer lived and more prosperous than any such union could ever fairly expect. For all their differences, England, Scotland, and Wales (and Ulster) have all made out exceedingly well over the last three centuries.

I get irritated when people refer to the UK as "England" because it's not all England. Not even kind of (okay, Wales kind of). One small part of Britain's charm for me is that England and Scotland are funny partners to be stuck together in the way they are, mostly out of ancient convenience. Even ancient-er than that convenience is a long history of not liking each other and not being too terribly similar despite sharing a border. And just because they get on now doesn't mean they've grown into one another culturally or politically. There are similarities, but they're no more stark than the similarities between Americans and Canadians (Mother Britain screwed us all up pretty good--but at least we're not Australia). So why stick together? Well, even Burnsians aren't immune to the allure of Empire. And nationally-unifying events like WWII tend to dampen feelings of alienation for a generation or two. And, in a very real way, it's the differences that make them work so well together. But now that common bonds have rusted, it's required some effort to find new ones and so Better Together has not had a lot to work with, I'm truly sorry to say.

To start with the up in the air logistics, there are some mildly compelling national security issues to consider. However, it's hard to hear the Brits asking "what about our place at the table?" without reflexively thinking, "oh, you still want that?" Moreover, if the Scots still cared for that sort of status (which, admittedly, disproportionately benefited Scots during the Empire years), they probably wouldn't be going through with this vote in the first place.

But you don't have to be a paranoid hyper-nationalist to feel the thumb in the eye of a Yes vote. The financial impact, at least in the short-term, will likely be what economists refer to as "not good." Sharing a currency with another nation invites comparison to the less than stable euro. And I've had enough personal experience with frustrated cashiers on both sides of the border to know that irritation with same-but-not-quite currencies is strong enough as is. That's probably why the unionists have placed their bets on the economic fallout, arguing that a splitting of the purse would create a shambles for both sides, perhaps especially for Scotland, which would no longer enjoy Westminster's relatively favorable largesse. And they might be right. Unfortunately, the Scots aren't looking at this as a business transaction. Not because they're overly emotional--as some have insultingly intimated--but because that's not how human beings conduct all of their affairs. Economies crest and dip, but identity is a trickier concept and a little short term pain for long term dignity and pride doesn't seem so bad a trade. If, in fact, that arrangement can be guaranteed. And it can't.

To be fair, Better Together's case is a difficult one to make without looking stodgy and out of touch. "You know you'd miss us" isn't terribly convincing as a plea, hence the fallback to dodgy economic forecasts (from both campaigns). But cash alone does not drive a movement. That tension you feel blowing from across the Atlantic? England's last ditch scrambling? Scotland's palpable anxiety? The apprehension from the EU and the US? The nervous hand-wringing in this very blog post? It's built on fear, excitement, uncertainty, and a particular viewpoint--of the UK and the wider world. In other words, things that are very difficult to quantify. There are more more logical ways to interpret independence, but to see things in those terms alone betrays a misunderstanding of the situation.

Losing Scotland would probably not be catastrophic. No, Scotland won't disappear and Lagavulin won't be cast into the phantom zone. Scotland would only cease to be a part of the union. I adore every corner of the British Isles, and those corners don't cease to exist just because there's a line down the center of the room. Ireland is no less fun that it would be as part of the UK. It just means passing through customs to get there, and even that might not be an issue. But all that doesn't mean it wouldn't also be sad.

The truth is, whatever happens, some constitutional re-considerations wouldn't be out of line are called for. Just because the union works better together doesn't mean this shouldn't be a wake up call. Some kind of federal system might be exciting, if ultimately a non-starter for those who want independence because now--and only now--is London taking a serious look at how to maintain an always-strange relationship. It's not as if England can't be accused of being less than enamored with their upstairs neighbors, so why not address the root of those feelings? For example, if No prevails, perhaps an English Parliament and a subsequent end to the West Lothian problem and its attendant incongruities just might clear some of the tension, allowing each nation some autonomy and dignity in its local matters, saving some energy for the bigger issues. The jurisdictional quirkiness might be "oh-so-British" but they also create logistical nightmares that benefit no one.

As is usually the case, Charlie Brooker is the most reasonable commenter working: as an outsider, you'd prefer Scotland to vote No (for admittedly selfish reasons), but totally understand the itch for a divorce. If I were faced with looking at David Cameron for five more years, I'd be looking for the fire escape, too. It's almost too bad England doesn't have its own built-in exit. There's an argument Better Together hasn't tried: "Please, Scotland, don't leave us with them." And, honestly, if this split must happen, there's some humor to be taken in the fact that it came on Cameron's watch.

Cultural identity, history, geography etc, those are all wrapped up in the referendum. Nationality's got some to do with it, though less than anyone who wants to view this as a rebirth of old Celtic-Anglo battle-lines will admit. Nationality is much more slippery than that in the UK these days--one of modern Britain's better qualities. The union's cosmopolitanism is an enormous benefit to both nations--something young Scottish voters appreciate, even if they've long seemed more likely to side with independence. But politically, England and Scotland have been drifting apart since the end of the war and weren't much on solid ground before that. Westminster can make all the promises it wants now--and it is--but where were these gestures ten, fifteen, twenty years ago? Now they care. When it's a referendum on them. And much as I hate to diminish a movement that's been anywhere from ten to three-hundred years in the making, it's hard to imagine a better time for Scots to take a long look at the state of things. And that only makes this more difficult because, as much as I want Scotland to stay, it would be hard to blame them if they don't.

This is an unsatisfying position (even to me, and I'm the one assuming it): whatever they decide is for the best. If it's Yes, there's a lot of credit in doing it this way: bloodlessly, democratically--all those fun, fluffy adjectives that are easy to take for granted. But I'd prefer Scotland to vote No. In light of the evidence that probably qualifies me as a romantic. On the other hand, I also believe there's a difference between 'could' and 'should.' It's why I tend to believe the referendum will--narrowly--swing No. Scots are as good as anybody at soberly sizing up a situation (yes, soberly, lol). And if the decision is a firm and convincing Yes, it won't be because they spent the night bent over a whisky barrel with Braveheart on in the background (for the same reason that a No vote wouldn't be the result of a night spent counting their GDP and watching old newsreels of the Blitz). It's because all of us occasionally feel the need for a fresh start and the prospects of an independent Scotland are only slightly less certain than the prospects of a renewed United Kingdom (or the prospects of the US, or any one, really--it's been a rough summer).

Both options are rooted in a sludgy kind of sentiment and history and tradition and on and on. These are not meager things. Promises are made on the harder prospects: finance, government, etc, and yet remain at least as hard to quantify as all the other stuff. Some of those promises may hold up (however pretty the songs, they're all being sung by politicians, remember). The difference is that Yes offers a sure bet of losing something--Britain, for all its flaws--and only a hope that something will be gained--a thriving, independent Scotland.

For all the mawkishness of the idea--and the campaign trying desperately to preserve that idea--they really are better together.

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