For those still clinging to the idea that Britain’s departure from the European Union was either necessary or irreversible, the latest polling trends present an uncomfortable reality. Public opinion in the United Kingdom has shifted decisively, with growing numbers now favoring a return to the bloc. Yet opponents of rejoining have settled on a convenient rebuttal: the EU, they insist, would never have Britain back. It is a claim repeated often enough to sound plausible—and one that collapses under even cursory scrutiny.

In fact, a number of European leaders have said the opposite, and done so with striking clarity. Poland’s prime minister, Donald Tusk, recently spoke of “dreaming of a return.” Finland’s president, Alexander Stubb, traveled to London to declare that Brexit had been “a colossal mistake” and that Britain should rejoin. Spain’s prime minister, Pedro Sánchez, has said plainly that he would “definitely like to have the UK back on board.” These are not offhand remarks. They reflect a broader sentiment within Europe’s political leadership: Britain’s absence is neither permanent nor desirable.

The European Union has compelling reasons to welcome the UK back—and they are not merely sentimental. There are, in fact, three, each more consequential than the last.

At the most symbolic level, Britain’s return would represent a powerful vindication of the European project itself. If the only country ever to leave were to rejoin within a relatively short period, openly acknowledging its departure as a mistake, the message would be unmistakable. It would reaffirm the EU’s utility, resilience, and enduring appeal at a time when skepticism still lingers in certain quarters.

More concretely, Brexit inflicted real damage on the EU, even if the burden fell more heavily on Britain. The departure of a major member state fractured the single market, introduced friction into trade, and complicated economic cooperation. It also removed one of Europe’s most globally engaged powers from the table. The EU adapted, as it always does, but the loss was neither trivial nor inconsequential.

Above all, however, the case for Britain’s return is geopolitical. Europe’s security landscape has shifted dramatically. Vladimir Putin’s aggression in Ukraine has underscored the urgency of collective defense, while the unpredictability of the United States under Donald Trump has raised uncomfortable questions about long-term transatlantic reliability. In this environment, the logic of European unity becomes difficult to ignore. Countries across the continent increasingly recognize that their interests—and their security—are intertwined. This is why the list of EU aspirants continues to grow, and why the bloc has signaled openness to accelerated accession processes, including for Ukraine.

Against this backdrop, the suggestion that Britain’s reentry would be prohibitively complex begins to look overstated. Yes, joining the EU requires negotiation, and in most cases those negotiations can stretch over many years. But Britain is not most cases. As a former member, it remains deeply aligned with EU law and regulatory frameworks. Where divergence has occurred, it is already mapped and understood. This is not a country starting from scratch, as many Western Balkan states or Ukraine must.

There is, in other words, no inherent technical reason why Britain’s path back into the EU should be unusually long. Finland’s accession, for instance, was completed in under three years—from application to full membership. Like Britain, Finland entered the process with legislation already closely aligned to the single market, owing to its participation in the European Economic Area. The precedent is there, and it is instructive.

Of course, difficult issues would arise. Brexit’s remaining defenders are quick to point to them, presenting each as an insurmountable barrier. The most frequently cited are Britain’s potential obligations to join the Schengen Area and adopt the euro. But these concerns, while not trivial, are far from definitive obstacles.

Take Schengen. Ireland, an EU member state, remains outside the passport-free zone. The UK and Ireland opted out not out of ideological resistance but for practical reasons. As island nations, their border dynamics differ fundamentally from those of continental Europe. With relatively few entry points and limited capacity for internal identity checks—neither country operates a comprehensive national ID system—it has long made sense to maintain controls at those points of entry. This arrangement has been accepted by EU partners before, and there is little reason to assume it could not be accommodated again, particularly with Ireland’s support.

The euro presents a similarly nuanced picture. While the EU’s default position may be that new members commit to eventual adoption, reality tells a more flexible story. Five current EU member states remain outside the eurozone, with no immediate plans to join. At the same time, the EU is preparing to admit countries—Ukraine among them—that will be in no position to adopt the euro for decades. In such a context, it is far from certain that Brussels would insist on a rigid timetable for Britain. A more pragmatic arrangement—allowing the UK to join the currency union on its own terms and timeline—would not be unprecedented.

None of this is to suggest that rejoining would be effortless, or that negotiations would proceed without friction. But the obstacles are political, not structural; contingent, not inevitable. They are the kinds of challenges that can be resolved through diplomacy and compromise, not reasons to abandon the effort altogether.

What remains, then, is the argument that Britain should not even try—that the very notion of rejoining is misguided or futile. This, too, deserves scrutiny. Brexit has imposed clear costs on the UK, from diminished trade to reduced geopolitical influence. It has narrowed the country’s strategic options at a moment when flexibility is at a premium. To ignore these realities, and to dismiss the possibility of reversing course, is less a principled stance than a refusal to reckon with the consequences of a decision that has aged poorly.

The voices warning against reengagement will no doubt continue to make themselves heard, invoking sovereignty, identity, and a host of other familiar themes. But their arguments increasingly resemble echoes of a debate that has already moved on. Britain’s place in Europe is no longer a settled question. It is an open one—and, as the evidence suggests, not nearly as distant as its critics would have us believe.