A YEAR AGO the case for a second vote on EU membership looked like the definition of a lost cause. At the general election in 2017 both major parties promised to “deliver Brexit”. The only party that wanted to hold another referendum, the Liberal Democrats, got 8% of the vote. Support for a so-called People’s Vote on the terms of Britain’s exit from the EU was confined to a motley group of die-hards, no-hopers and eccentrics who spent more time feuding over technicalities (should 16-year-olds be given a say this time round?) than they did making their case to the people.

Today there is a significant chance that Britain will end up having a vote on whether to accept the Brexit deal that Theresa May presented to the cabinet on November 14th. Over the past few months the no-hopers have racked up a succession of victories. In October the People’s Vote campaign organised a march of 670,000 people in London. On November 9th Jo Johnson, a transport minister and brother of Boris, resigned from the government and argued that, given Britain now faced a choice between “vassalage” and “chaos”—that is, remaining tied to the EU without a say on its rules or leaving without a deal—the only reasonable choice was another vote. On November 12th Gordon Brown became the third former prime minister to call for another vote. And Mrs May herself admitted this week that Britain faced a three-way choice: her deal, no deal, “or no Brexit at all.”

The mood in the People’s Vote headquarters in Millbank Tower is understandably upbeat. Serried rows of millennials and younger-than-millennials examine battle charts of target audiences and chat excitedly into their mobile phones (there is nothing so old-fashioned here as a landline). People’s Voters have even been honoured with their own version of Watergate: some miscreants (“undoubtedly Brexiteers”) broke into the headquarters and urinated into the sweet bowl on the reception desk (unfortunately Bagehot was told about this transgression only after he had helped himself to a generous portion of sweets from said bowl).

Why has such a lost cause become such a powerful force in political life? Luck clearly played its part. Mrs May made a succession of errors, including triggering Article 50 before she had worked out her demands and calling an election that destroyed her majority. The EU played its hand brilliantly, particularly when it came to Northern Ireland. But in the end it was down to logic. The Brexiteers had promised the impossible—all the advantages of EU membership with none of the disadvantages—and disillusionment was inevitably going to follow.

This remorseless logic has had the peculiar effect of turning the People’s Vote’s weaknesses into strengths. The campaign has always lacked the normal requirements for political success: a charismatic leader, a clear organisational structure and a common identity. It consists of nine different organisations that bear a striking resemblance to Monty Python’s People’s Front of Judea and its challengers. But having hobbled it at first, these weaknesses are now helping it. Because it is not associated with any political party or grandee, it can reach across the political spectrum. And because it is driven by young volunteers whom nobody has ever heard of, it can challenge the idea that it is a front for Blairite centrism. Ironically, the movement that the People’s Vote most resembles is the campaign to leave the EU , a movement that began as a collection of no-hopers, ran on a combination of adrenalin and passion, and then broke all the conventional rules of politics.

There are strong arguments against having another vote. Doing so would once again bitterly divide the country and might even lead to civil unrest. David Cameron’s government promised that the referendum in 2016 would decide whether Britain left or stayed. About 2.8m people who had given up the habit of voting on the grounds that the establishment rigs the system turned up to vote (almost all of them for Leave). A second referendum might produce another close result or another victory for Leave. There are also practical problems: how do you go about throwing another vote into the political mix? And what would the question be?

Blow me down

But the question at the heart of British politics is not whether this or that option is difficult and painful but whether it is more or less difficult and painful than the alternatives. The politics of having your cake and eating it have long since given way to the politics of choosing between gruel or bread and water. A second vote would divide the country and infuriate Leavers. But the country is already divided and Remainers (who include the vast majority of younger voters) are in a fury. Another vote would mean going back on Mr Cameron’s promise to the voters. But as David Davis, the former Brexit secretary and an ardent Leaver, pointed out before the referendum of 2016, “If a democracy cannot change its mind, it ceases to be a democracy.” Opinion polls already suggest that a small majority of voters supports staying in the EU . That majority might easily be much bigger if the voters are confronted with a choice between the existing arrangements and a deal which, as both Remainers and Leavers now recognise, would force Britain to abide by many of the EU ’s rules while depriving it of any say over those rules. The practicalities of holding a vote would be complicated—and would undoubtedly involve calling for an extension of the deadline for withdrawal under Article 50—but Lord Kerr (who wrote the article in question) has identified six paths to another referendum.