I distinctly remember the day I decided the UK should never join the European single currency. I couldn’t tell you the precise date, and am not absolutely sure what year it was – probably 1990. But I vividly remember sitting in my student digs – jostick burning, posters on the wall – surrounded by books and articles. It was one of those moments when, after intensive reading, the penny almost audibly dropped.
As an economics undergraduate, I had to study a lot of complex mathematical modeling. Rebelling against the arid pointlessness of pretending economics is a science, I immersed myself in economic history too. It was while learning about the failed monetary unions of the past – particularly those of the mid- and late-nineteenth century, in Latin America, Scandinavia and the nascent United States – that I instinctively realized the euro, still then not a reality but almost certainly coming, was in for a bumpy ride.