Brexit at 10: Does Adland Understand Britain Any Better Now?

Exactly ten years ago, when much of the advertising and marketing industry was gathered in Cannes – rosé in hand, celebrating the world’s most awarded work - Britain was voting for Brexit. The UK took a momentous decision: to leave the European Union, of which it had been a member since 1973. The result landed like a thunderclap across Croisette terraces and beach clubs: unexpected, disorientating and, for an industry supposedly obsessed with understanding people, faintly humiliating.

In the months that followed came the great reckoning – the planner pilgrimages to the north of England, the “real Britain” reports, the urgent rediscovery of towns and voters many in adland seemed to realise they hadn’t properly listened to. The irony, of course, was hard to miss. A business built on having its finger on the pulse of public sentiment, yet it failed to feel one of the defining national moods of modern Britain.

Almost six in 10 people now think Britain was ​wrong to vote to leave the EU, according to a YouGov poll on June 9. The 52 per cent of people ​who voted on June 23, 2016, to leave have found out they were "sold a dream", according to Reuters.

A decade on, with the country having lived through Brexit, Covid, economic upheaval, political churn, and a profound crisis of trust in institutions, there lies a simple question: does the industry understand the mood of the nation any better now than it did then?

Harjot Singh, global chief strategy officer for McCann and McCann Worldgroup

Yes, vivid memories of that Cannes. The shock. The scramble. The sudden collective interest in “going to Stoke.” Lol.

A decade on, my honest read is this: the industry understands more than it did in 2016, but not necessarily better. We’ve accumulated more signals, more data, discourse, arguably some more cultural fluency; but signals aren’t the same as sight. There’s still a meaningful gap between knowing and truly seeing. And in my experience, that gap is where most of the damage gets done.

But it’s also where the opportunity is. Because closing that gap is ultimately the work. It’s where better strategy, better creativity, and more meaningful brand roles are built. That’s the part I think is genuinely exciting for us.

What we’ve been tracking through McCann’s Truth About Global Brands study which we’ve been fielding since 2014, with a new wave out this year, reinforces exactly this. The empathy gap hasn’t closed. People consistently feel that institutions, leaders and brands don’t properly understand “people like me.” That’s not just a social observation. For our industry, it’s a strategic indictment.

The national mood in 2026 isn’t a single sentiment. It’s a set of contradictions that the same person holds simultaneously. Economic anxiety alongside selective optimism. A hunger for stability alongside a refusal to trust the institutions that are supposed to provide it. Cultural confidence co-existing with fragmentation and a stronger gravitational pull toward the local, the familiar, the legible. Fascination with AI, coupled with a growing unease about what it’s actually doing to the way we work, to creativity, to the texture of everyday life.

What’s changed isn’t the fragmentation itself. It’s the expectation that it should resolve. People aren’t necessarily waiting for coherence anymore. This is the new ordinary. I would argue that there is no single centre of gravity, just multiple, overlapping realities, and people navigate them with more self-awareness, and more guardedness than ever before.

And here’s the sharpest contradiction of all: trust in institutions has eroded dramatically, but expectations of brands haven’t followed. If anything, they’ve intensified. People still want brands to matter and play a meaningful role in their lives, but on far more exacting terms. Clarity. Authenticity. Genuine contextual intelligence, not the performance of it.

The industry made the pilgrimage. Some of us learned something. But understanding Britain in 2026 isn’t about going somewhere. I would say that it’s about staying present, staying honest, and having the humility to keep revising what you think you know. Because in a world like this, truth really is the most valuable currency, and our job is not just to find it, but to tell it well, in ways that people genuinely recognise themselves in.

Ruairi Curran, executive strategy director, Gravity Road

I’m not convinced the industry understands the mood of the nation any better than it did in 2016. But more importantly, I’m not sure it’s really trying to.

Over the last decade we’ve become far less interested in understanding the nation and far more interested in understanding communities. We’ve learned how to break audiences down into increasingly specific groups, analyse subcultures and cohorts, and build relevance from the bottom up rather than broadcasting messages from the top down.

In many ways, that’s been a huge success. The industry is probably better than ever at understanding niches, passions and identities. We know how to find communities. We know how to speak their language. We know how to create reach by aggregating lots of small audiences rather than chasing one big one.

Outside a handful of exceptions – the supermarkets, broadcasters, and truly mass-market brands – most brands aren't trying to win by understanding Britain. They're trying to win by understanding their people – and understanding a community isn’t the same thing as understanding a country.

With the World Cup beginning, I’m reminded that national mood isn’t just shaped by economics, politics or demographics - it’s also shaped by stories. If on the 19 July England is crowned World Champions, the economic fundamentals won’t change, NHS waiting lists won’t fall and housing won’t suddenly become affordable – but the mood of the nation will feel very different. Because as we know, people don’t feel their connection to the nation through data points, they feel it through shared moments.

So, while we’ve become incredibly good at understanding what makes people different, we may have become less curious about what brings them together.

Chris Turner, strategy director at Pablo and one of the leads on The Rift research project

As we approach the ten-year mark, it is hard to argue that the wound has healed. If anything, the gulf has widened. Crisis after crisis has left society with little oxygen to flourish. And in those open wounds, division continues to fester.

As marketing teams fight budget cuts, research is increasingly treated as a nice-to-have. At the same time, the rise of synthetic audiences as a quick fix suggests we may be moving further away from understanding real people and their lives, not closer. That is a big problem for an industry whose job is to connect.

In order to ensure we stay as close to Britons as possible, Pablo have, for the last two years, been exploring division with Starling and Tapestry through a research series, 'The Rift'. The first study looked at the growing divide between young men and women. The second explored the rupture between young people and their futures.

The latest research revealed that young people are living in a culture of futurelessness, where a cliff edge of optimism is stopping them from looking forward with hope and aspiration. Mark Fisher described this as “a slow cancellation of the future”. They have lost faith in institutions to help them and have had to privatise hope instead, relying on an exhausting treadmill of self-betterment to survive. So perhaps what feels true about Britain in 2026 is not just anger, apathy or division, but also exhaustion. People are tired of being told to be resilient in systems that set them up for failure.

As we become intoxicated by cheaper and faster ways of simulating people, the most radical thing we can do is also the most basic – don’t replace a conversation with a human with proxy data. Let’s keep sitting down with the people we desire to connect with.

Mel Arrow, CEO, McCann London

I think Brexit taught us all that being in touch with the nation requires being proactive. We have to burst our bubble, read The Guardian and The Daily Mail, engage, ask, be curious, and seek to know more. McCann’s UK network of offices constantly keeps me on my toes and I love being able to tap into it. Which is why I asked people from McCann London, Manchester, Birmingham, Bristol, and Leeds how they’re feeling, to capture a snapshot of the mood. I heard restlessness above all else. Division and economic difficulty. Local pride paired with national disconnection. And a silver lining of British fundamentals; people, music, football, hope and humour.

Representing Manchester, Christian Davis said the city feels “restless”, like “a city that’s permanently refreshing the browser tab”. Down the pub, people are talking about “politics, property, and football, with a side order of civic frustration”. On whether the nation is divided or united, Manchester thinks “Britain feels remarkably united in what it worries about and deeply divided in how those worries show up”. Local optimism comes from industriousness; “we're a city built on solving things. We've never been particularly interested in waiting for someone else to come up with the answer” and national optimism from “untapped horsepower”, “This is a country with no shortage of talent, creativity or ideas.”

Representing Bristol, Sarah Warewinter said the city feels “hopeful”, “Yes, times have been tough, but there's a restlessness and an itch to make things better”. Down the pub, people are talking about the changing nature of the city; “We're a city of people who are so proud to be Bristolian, but it's harder than it's ever been to live here”. On whether the nation is divided or united, Bristol thinks we’re “a country emotionally connected, but intellectually and politically fragmented.” and in contrast “Bristol feels like a community” and very importantly added “we're not all hippies, students or farmers (and we don't all just drink cider!). This is a city that's built on creativity and multiple perspectives”.

Representing Birmingham, Stephen Mallinson said the city feels “uncertain”, “There is pride beneath the surface, but many people are navigating economic pressure, local service failure and political frustration”. Down the pub, people are talking about “bills, the endless bin strike and the state of local services, Villa, the World Cup, or whatever Trump has done now”. On whether the nation is divided or united, Birmingham thinks “there seems to be little that brings everyone together anymore…even major national events often feel more likely to expose differences than create common ground”. Local optimism comes from humour “Birmingham isn't a city that takes it too seriously and will always find the humour in any situation” and national optimism in the fact that “people keep striving”.

Representing Leeds, Gavin Shore said the city also feels “restless”. Down the pub, people are talking about “Leeds United – better next season - and the cost of everything”. On whether the nation is divided or united, Leeds thinks the nation feels “torn between the past and the future” but locally it feels different “we’re more united in Leeds”. Local optimism comes from “the people - the talent, the drive they have for better, in both business and culture”.

Representing London, Mary Mekonen said the city feels full of “hustle and “Very work hard play hard….it does feel like we’re all hamsters on a wheel, and yet, it does feel like no-one’s giving up anytime soon”. Down the pub, people are talking about “summer plans, festival season, the chaotic story-times around dating in London…But underneath that, there are also heavier conversations coming through about politics, especially around Reform gaining seats in London, the cost of living, and gentrification”. On whether the nation is divided or united, Birmingham thinks “Politically, we feel fragmented, but emotionally and culturally, there are still times where we can all come together, through things like football, Love Island, music”. Local optimism comes from “aliveness”, “For all its tensions and contradictions, there is a constant energy here”.