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The British have had nearly three years to get used to the idea of Brexit. But what if it doesn’t happen? Among the commentariat, the idea of revoking Article 50 is being actively discussed.

The petition calling for it has been signed by more than six million. And this week, the EU may pile on the pressure by imposing conditions on any extension. The French insist that the

British cannot be allowed to disrupt the EU for much longer. If Parliament refuses to allow Britain to leave without a deal, but the only deal on offer is worse than no deal, some Brexiteers

might conclude that we would be better off inside the EU than out of it. The great advantage of revocation is that the British alone decide. It could be triggered right up to the last

moment before we are due to leave this Friday. It is therefore worth thinking through the likely consequences of telling the EU that Brexit is off. In the first place, there would be a

collective sigh of relief across the 27 other member states, not to mention Brussels. There would be a temporary boost in confidence and the markets would surge. The failure of Brexit might

even prevent the widely anticipated triumph of the “Europe of fatherlands” alliance in the European elections on 26 May. Imagine the delight in Paris and Berlin that the British, of all

people, had rained on the populist parade. But such euphoria would fade as it dawned on the British electorate that their votes had been ignored by the political elites. The key fact about

British politics, never understood by other Europeans, is that it is adversarial. If Conservatives and Labour were seen to have conspired to thwart the result of the 2016 referendum, the

voters would certainly penalise both parties at the ballot box. It is entirely possible that these old warhorses would be put out to grass. After all, it happened in France to the Socialists

and Gaullists, the traditional parties of Left and Right, when Emmanuel Macron offered a plausible alternative two years ago. The lure of strong leadership is perennial. The great

theoretician of this was the German sociologist Max Weber, who borrowed the term “charismatic” from theology to describe the authority wielded by a leader who sweeps all before him or her by

sheer force of personality. Charisma confers legitimacy on what would normally be illegitimate. For much of history, religion has usually been the source of such charismatic authority, but

in the last century the role of faith has been increasingly usurped by political ideology. The British have been less susceptible to this phenomenon than most nations — but we are not

immune. According to a poll by the Hansard Society, 54 per cent of Britons would now prefer “a strong leader willing to break the rules”. Nearly three quarters of us are so dissatisfied with

our political system that they believe it requires ”quite a lot” or “a great deal” of improvement. These figures have risen sharply under the impact of the Brexit process. It is impossible

to predict what would happen if, in effect, politicians were to tell the public that they had simply made a mistake when they voted by 52 per cent to leave the EU. But it is surely worth

considering that many voters would conclude that parliamentary democracy had failed them. For the first time in modern British history, a large body of opinion might be open to revolutionary

change — especially if it were embodied in a charismatic leader. No responsible Prime Minister could contemplate with equanimity such a threat to the entire political system. Theresa May is

singularly lacking in imagination, but even she can read the writing on the wall. Every household in the UK was told by the Government that the referendum would be respected. To set such a

solemn promise at naught would be an unprecedented betrayal of trust. So those who demand that the Prime Minister revoke Article 50 should be careful what they wish for.