Philip Hammond’s proposed commemorative Brexit 50p coin is a stone-cold work of art. I mean it. It’s a silly distraction. It’s a medal designed to honour a false sense of misplaced national entitlement. It’s a tangible object that you can watch plummet in global value in real time. Honestly, it’s a masterpiece of form and content. You couldn’t do better if you tried.
That said, you have to admit that the whole notion is heavily skewed towards the 52% of the population who voted for Brexit. And this means that almost half of us are left without a coin. Here, then, are five proposals for a remainer 50p coin.
The more realistically worded coin
According to the Sun, the Brexit 50p will read “Friendship with all nations”. And that’s fine, if a subtle reminder that sarcasm doesn’t always translate to currency. But you know what would be better? Coins that came etched with different phrases in various European languages. Maybe (and attentive readers will note my use of Google Translate) Ich habe definitiv für rest entschieden (I definitely voted remain, in German), or Nous ne sommes pas tous comme eux (We’re not all like them, in French), or perhaps Jeg kan passe ind i en kuffert, tag mig med dig, tak, jeg vil ikke have et blåt pas (I can fit into a suitcase, take me with you, thank you, I don’t want a blue passport, in Danish).
The two-headed coin
Hammond’s 50p is traditional in that it has the Queen on one side and something else on the other. But this doesn’t fully reflect the sensation of living in post-Brexit Britain, so how about a coin that has the Queen on both sides? Something like that would be perfect for anyone in your life who enjoys making decisions based on the toss of a coin. Examples of Brexit-adjacent decisions you make with the two-headed coin include: Heads I shave off my eyebrows; tails I don’t, Heads I set everything I own on fire; tails I order a pizza, and Heads I destroy the welfare of every subsequent generation; tails I go and have a nice cup of tea.
The coin with an interactive monarch’s face
I don’t know how the technology of this would work, but I’d really like to see a coin that mimics the Queen’s actual reaction to Brexit on a minute-by-minute basis. A coin where she slaps her forehead whenever Theresa May leaves the room. A coin with eyes that boggle whenever Britain’s circle of influence is further diminished. A coin that visibly lurches in despair when it realises that the subjects are close to revolt. That would be fun, right?
The commemorative Brexit farthing
That’s what you really want, isn’t it? Leaving the European Union isn’t enough for you, is it? You preferred the country before it was ravaged by the scourge of decimalisation, didn’t you? Well, fine. To prove we’re not sore losers let’s mint a commemorative Brexit farthing. Look how beautiful it is; the size of a literal dinner plate, made of contaminated lead and worth a genuinely obscure fraction of a pound. Not enough? Fine. Then, let’s bring back the barter system. Here’s a commemorative Brexit bag of apples. A commemorative Brexit pig. Happy now?
The commemorative Jeremy Corbyn 50p
You definitely grabbed a handful of these coins when you left your house this morning. You chose them because they were the best coins and met your needs much better than any of the other coins. But now you’re at the newsagent trying to buy a Twix and you can’t find them. You’re rifling through all your stuff with an increasing sense of panic. Was there a hole in your trousers? Were you pickpocketed? You definitely brought them with you, didn’t you? Behold, the commemorative Jeremy Corbyn 50p; the coin that vanishes into mid-air right when you need it most.
