Wes Streeting’s call for Britain to rejoin the European Union, echoed more cautiously by Andy Burnham, marks a subtle but meaningful shift in British politics. What was once politically untouchable—the question of EU membership—has begun to re-enter mainstream debate.

A decade after the Brexit vote, the argument is no longer about whether Britain might return, but how—and at what cost—that return could be achieved.

The economic case for rejoining appears, at least on the surface, relatively straightforward. Most mainstream analyses suggest that leaving the EU has weakened trade and long-term productivity, largely by introducing new barriers with Britain’s largest market. The Office for Budget Responsibility, for instance, projects that exports and imports will be around 15 percent lower in the long run than if the UK had remained in the EU, with productivity reduced by roughly 4 percent. The European Central Bank has similarly linked Brexit to weaker trade performance and persistent labour shortages.

This helps explain Streeting’s blunt assessment that Brexit has left Britain “less wealthy, less powerful and less in control.” Rejoining, in theory, could restore frictionless trade with a market of nearly half a billion consumers, improve investment flows, and stabilise supply chains—advantages long associated with participation in the single market.

Yet economics tells only part of the story. Brexit was never solely an economic project; it was, at its core, a political one. Its central promise was sovereignty—the ability to diverge from EU rules, control migration, and strike independent trade deals. Some of these freedoms are tangible, even if their economic payoff remains disputed. Any move toward rejoining would therefore require a deeper political reckoning, one that cannot be reduced to technocratic arguments about growth.

Public sentiment reflects this tension. Recent polling by YouGov on how the government is handling Brexit suggests widespread dissatisfaction: 60 percent of respondents believe it is being handled badly, a record high, compared to just 23 percent who think it is being handled well, with 16 percent unsure. The numbers point less to a settled consensus than to a lingering unease about what Brexit has delivered—and what it has not.

Even if domestic opinion continues to shift, the practical path to re-entry would be complex and prolonged. The UK would need to apply under Article 49, the EU’s standard accession process, and meet the bloc’s political and economic criteria. Crucially, Britain would not be returning on its previous terms. European leaders have made clear that any future membership would come without the opt-outs the UK once enjoyed, raising the possibility of commitments to the euro or to deeper institutional integration.

How receptive, then, is the EU? The answer is cautiously open. European leaders have indicated that the UK would be welcome in principle, but only on standard terms—a position shaped as much by institutional self-preservation as by political calculation. There is goodwill, certainly, but little appetite for renegotiating bespoke arrangements that once defined Britain’s semi-detached status within the bloc.

In practice, the most plausible route back is likely to be gradual rather than immediate. Closer alignment on trade standards, security cooperation, or youth mobility schemes may come first, serving both to rebuild trust and to demonstrate tangible benefits. Full membership, if it happens at all, would emerge as the culmination of a long political process rather than the result of a sudden shift in policy.

For now, Streeting’s intervention serves as a reminder of an uncomfortable reality. Brexit may be settled as a legal fact, but as a political question, it remains very much alive.