WELL, that all went swimmingly. There’s a peculiar British propensity for glorifying and commemorating things that were actually disastrous failures, such as Dunkirk, the Titanic or the Charge of the Light Brigade. Watching Theresa May address the Commons yesterday, I was reminded of Giocante de Casabianca who, you’ll remember, stood on the burning deck whence all but he had fled.

Some, including the small matter of the Brexit Secretary, fled the Cabinet. Others, when she finished speaking, fled to Sir Graham Brady with letters stating they’d lost all confidence in her, hoping to trigger a leadership contest. The comments of Nigel Dodds after her statement made it clear that DUP support is fleeing, too.

Despite the thrawn instincts which seem common to all the nations of the UK, the lesson of Felicia Dorothea Hemans’ poem, surely, is not to applaud young Casabianca’s refusal to leave his post until he got orders from his father, but to conclude that he was a moron for not exercising discretion and getting out pronto. So it is with the Prime Minister. She put in rather a spirited performance at the dispatch box, but she was the only person who couldn’t see that not a single MP was prepared to defend her position. It’s all very well having tenacity as one of your qualities, but it’s a virtue only if there’s anything else to be said in your favour.

Mrs May’s distinguishing feature, apart from her stupidity, is her total refusal to negotiate, or even to listen to anyone else. After spending two and a half years telling everyone that no deal is better than a bad deal, she is now maintaining that her bad deal is better than no deal.

In fact, her suggested deal actually makes it impossible to leave: if the Northern Irish backstop were activated, there is no mechanism for leaving the consequent customs union that would apply to the whole of the UK. The SNP claim that the document doesn’t mention Scotland is a ludicrous bit of grievance-mongering: it doesn’t mention England or Wales, either.

Article 21 states that we would need the EU’s permission (which it would have no interest in granting). And in Article 7, section b, it actually says that the UK would be considered as an EU member state in every respect – bar one, which is the decision-making processes. We would, however, get to pay £39 billion for the privilege.

The Cabinet’s “collective” decision (weaselly wording for “not unanimous”) on this masterplan lasted for about 12 hours before people started marching out. By yesterday afternoon, there was talk that the Prime Minister might just wind up the Department for Exiting the EU. Reasonable enough, for who would want a job where all the previous incumbents have resigned because they weren’t allowed to do it?

With the exception of Mrs May and a few preposterous toadies like Sir Alan Duncan, there cannot be anyone who thinks this deal has a hope in hell of getting passed in the Commons. That seems a compelling reason to drop it now.

But it does not follow that there are no options other than no deal at all, backing down and rescinding Article 50, or holding another referendum – all positions that are being claimed by one group or another. Mrs May’s mishandling of Brexit, which she never really understood or believed in, wasted two and a half years, but most of the possible ways of handling it better were ruled out by nothing other than her own determination not to consider them. Lose her, lose those objections.

Many anti-Leave campaigners argue that there is no such thing as a good Brexit: that every scenario is worse than the current arrangements. Oddly, there’s something in that. Or at least, there’s something in the case that, since the Maastricht Treaty, our laws, regulations, trade and services have been so intertwined with those of the EU that the logistics of detaching the UK would be complicated and almost certainly damaging.

Some of us pointed this out before we signed the treaty. These proto-Brexiters wondered why you’d choose to sign up to the biggest Mafia ever devised. Especially if leaving it led to horrendous consequences.

But there were and, even at this very late stage in the game, still are, options. Despite Mrs May’s claims, the only binary choice was the referendum, not the manner in which we choose to leave.

The referendum was not a choice between the UK’s relationship with the EU as it was on June 23, 2016 and Brexit, but between leaving or committing to the EU’s future direction of travel. That this might include things such as a common EU army was ridiculed as a Brexiter fantasy. It’s now the open aim, not just of Jean-Claude Juncker, but of both Emmanuel Macron and Angela Merkel.

Leaving was a step into the unknown. But staying would have been, too. Remember that we were going to have a recession with four quarters of negative growth? UK growth is now at a four-year high, and currently twice Eurozone growth, which is at a two-year low. The forecasts claim that this will not last, though you may care to note that all of them have been wrong every quarter since the vote.

It would be nice if we had prepared for no deal, and since we haven’t, it will obviously be more difficult than needed to be the case. But forecasts that it will somehow be the end of the world may be similarly overstated.

There is are easier ways out, though. One is the “Norway for now” option. We could (as founding members of the EEA, from which we have not stated any intention to withdraw), join EFTA, which already has more trade deals than the EU, and would be even more powerful with the UK as a member. We might choose to stay in it, or negotiate some other arrangement in years to come. Or there’s the Canada +++ deal David Davis wanted, and which the EU offered.

The first step, however, is to accept that Mrs May’s plan is a no-hoper, and ditch it as soon as possible. The second step is to apply the same reasoning to her as Prime Minister.