Don’t blame it on the sunshine – blame it on the Brexit

BrexIT is being blamed for everything from shrinking Toblerones to rising fuel prices. It’s become one of those catch-all, knee-jerk excuses like: ‘Don’t you Know There’s A War On?’

There’s nothing that can’t be laid at the door of the 52 per cent who voted Leave. Another 10p on a litre of petrol? Brexit. Iceberg lettuce shortage? Brexit. Ten fish fingers in a packet, instead of a dozen? Brexit. Annual nhS winter crisis? Brexit.

I’m only surprised that Communities Secretary Sajid Javid hasn’t tried to blame the outrageous increase in business rates on Brexit, too.

And all this before we’ve actually left the eU, which isn’t going to happen for at least another two years. Meanwhile, the defeatists and opportunists in the remain camp will continue to bemoan ‘uncertainty’ and seize on every price rise — justified or otherwise — as evidence that we’re all going to hell in a handcart.

OK, so I accept fluctuating currency rates have an impact on the cost of imports, especially food. But that also makes our exports cheaper, too.

And whenever sterling has strengthened in the past against the euro and the dollar, I haven’t been aware of prices in the shops and at the pumps plummeting accordingly.

Food manufacturers have been playing devious games with consumers for years, long before the referendum was even a twinkle in Call Me Dave’s eye.

They’re always salamislicing products, using sleight of hand, to shave 40g off a packet of biscuits here, 5ml off a bottle of spirits there, often increasing the price at the same time.

One of the reasons they’ve been able to get away with it for so long is the metric system, which we were forced, like so much else, to embrace to ‘bring us into line with europe’.

It’s fairly simple to shrink goods by a few grams or millilitres in the hope that most people won’t notice — particularly those of us who were educated in imperial measures.

That’s why the best news to emerge over the weekend was the announcement that, post-Brexit, the Government is considering allowing British shops and food manufacturers to start selling again in pounds and ounces. A pound is equivalent to 453.59g. But as soon as we went metric that was almost always reduced to 450g, when it came to selling everyday items such as fresh meat.

Doesn’t sound much, but it all adds up to fatter profits. Check out your fridge today and you’ll discover that food you used to think — and probably still do — that you’re buying by the pound is often only 400g these days.

Same with liquids, from shampoo to orange juice. Petrol prices went through the roof when it started being sold in litres. While £1.20 a litre seems reasonable, five-and-a-half quid a gallon sounds extortionate.

So if we can bring back pounds and ounces, why not pounds, shillings and pence?

The biggest con-trick of the lot was the introduction of decimalisation, which led to some prices doubling overnight. In many shops and restaurants, 2/6d in old money (two shillings and sixpence, equivalent to 12½p) became 26p — more than twice as much.

It helped kick-start the hyperinflation of the Seventies.

elsewhere, Brexit is being blamed for falling house prices. A cottage in Tony Blair’s old constituency in Trimdon, Co Durham, has gone on the market for just £10,000 — which could be the cheapest home in Britain. It’s a world away from Blair’s own multi-million property portfolio.

LOnDOn estate agents say Brexit has hit the market hard. Oh, yeah? So why is a 7ft-wide, unmodernised former laundry annex in hammersmith, West London, being marketed at £900,000?

In trendy highgate, north London, a townhouse has been reduced by £2 million to a very reasonable £6.95 million. The selling agent remarked that while the original asking price was ‘not fanciful’, the cut reflected the post-Brexit economy. On what kind of Fantasy Island is nine million quid for a townhouse ‘not fanciful’.

If Brexit does lead to lower house prices, bring it on.

Come to think of it, highgate’s property market has always been bonkers. More than 30 years ago, I walked into an estate agency on highgate hill, looking for a modest family home. I said I could probably stretch to £100,000.

The agent took a sharp intake of breath and assured me there was absolutely nothing in that price range. not even a lean-to.

‘nothing for £100,000?’ I said incredulously. ‘not so long ago you could have bought Jimmy Greaves for a hundred grand — and still had a quid left over for a fish supper and your bus fare home.’ Mind you, that was before Brexit.