What Would Happen if the UK Closed Its Borders for Just One Week?

A seven-day simulation reveals the harsh reality behind the idea of closing Britain’s borders, and why every version of that idea ultimately collapses under scrutiny.

By Sean Ash

I’ve seen a growing number of posts on Facebook recently saying, “Close our borders,” (like the image above that is widely being circulated) or a “We’re full” Sign, draped over the white cliffs of Dover, in front of an incoming ship. The message is usually loud, emotionally charged, and often repeated without much thought for what it would actually mean. So I decided to run a simulation, to imagine what would really happen if we closed our borders completely. No people in or out. No goods. No trade. Nothing.

This is not just a political thought experiment. It is a scenario that tests how modern Britain functions in a deeply interconnected world. Let’s walk through a simulated week to see the consequences.

Day 1: Shutdown and Panic

Airports and ports fall silent. Flights are cancelled, ferries are docked, and freight lorries are turned away. Perishable goods such as fresh fruits, vegetables, and dairy are stuck at borders or left to spoil. Panic spreads quickly. Supermarket shelves begin to empty as people stockpile. Foreign nationals in the UK are caught off guard. UK citizens abroad are stranded, unable to return. Confusion reigns.

Day 2: Supply Chains Collapse

By the second day, the cracks in our supply system begin to widen. Fresh food imports stop arriving. Items like tomatoes, lettuce, milk, and cheese become scarce. Prices rise. Manufacturing plants dependent on international components halt production. Factories in automotive, electronics, and pharmaceuticals begin to shut down. The NHS warns of delayed medical deliveries. The fishing and farming industries, unable to export, begin losing millions. Seafood goes to waste. The pound weakens as markets react.

Day 3: Workforce Shock

Sectors already struggling with staff shortages begin to buckle. Seasonal agricultural work is disrupted as the foreign labour force is locked out. Crops are left unpicked. In care homes, fewer workers are available to support the elderly and disabled. Construction projects are delayed. The NHS feels the strain as overseas staff are unable to enter. Travel companies begin laying off staff due to grounded flights and halted tourism.

Day 4: Global and Legal Fallout

International criticism intensifies. The European Union and other trade partners express outrage. Existing trade agreements are suspended or placed under review. Legal action begins as companies sue for breach of contract. Major businesses begin considering relocation to countries with stable trade routes. Civil unrest starts to emerge in coastal and industrial areas hit hardest by economic shock.

Day 5: Fuel and Food Shortages

Petrol and diesel supplies begin to dwindle. Panic buying returns to fuel stations. Supermarkets reduce opening hours and limit purchases. The government begins discussing rationing policies. Essential medicines are in short supply. Ambulance services report delays due to fuel concerns. Food banks become overwhelmed as vulnerable people run out of basic supplies. The economic ripple effect grows rapidly.

Day 6: Social Strain and Unrest

The nation begins to feel the strain. Protests break out. Videos of desperate families circulate online. Children miss out on necessary medications. Hospital appointments are cancelled. Insulin, chemotherapy treatments, and baby formula are in critically low supply. Supermarket workers are met with frustration and anger. The police struggle to maintain order in overstretched communities.

Day 7: Crisis and Collapse

Parliament is forced into emergency session. Ministers are questioned about the scale of the disaster. Calls grow louder for resignations. The Prime Minister is under intense pressure. Talks begin to reverse the closure. Border authorities prepare to resume movement. International trust is badly damaged. Restoring trade routes will take time. Public trust in government leadership is shattered.

The Real Lesson

The idea of closing borders completely might sound appealing to some in the abstract. But in practice, it reveals a deep misunderstanding of how modern Britain survives. We are not an isolated island. We rely on foreign labour, imported goods, international medicine, and the freedom to move. Borders are not just lines drawn on maps. They are arteries that keep the country alive. Cutting them off, even briefly, causes not just inconvenience, but collapse.

At this point, some might say, “Oh, you just mean close them to the rest of the world, but we can still go wherever we want, right?” But that is not how international movement works. It is a two-way agreement. If we shut others out, they shut us out too. British tourists, students, businesses, and families abroad would face the same isolation. You cannot close your door and expect the world to keep theirs open.

Then others might say, “Fine, close them only to migrants.” But migrants are not a vague, distant group. They are our nurses, carers, cleaners, delivery drivers, engineers, and teachers. They are people already contributing, often in jobs others will not do. Without them, care collapses, food rots in the fields, and our economy slows to a crawl. Migration is not a threat to be shut out. It is a part of modern reality, something to be managed wisely and fairly.

So the argument narrows. “Just close them to illegal immigrants then.” But even this is not simple. Most undocumented people did not sneak in. They overstayed visas or got caught in a broken, delayed system. Many are working, paying tax, and raising families. Deporting them costs far more than it saves. It also undermines trust in the system when it targets the wrong people while ignoring the real problems.

Every version of the phrase “close the borders” begins to fall apart under scrutiny. Whether it is dressed up as patriotism, economic sense, or legal necessity, it ends in confusion, damage, and division. The UK’s strength has never come from isolation. It has come from connection, cooperation, and realism about our place in the world.

A wall might keep something out, but it also locks you in.

And if you are against the Brexit reset deal struck this week between Keir Starmer and the European Union because you have an issue with young EU citizens coming here to work, while also claiming that you are angry about immigrants who come here and do not work, then the truth is simple. You are not trying to protect Britain. You are not being logical. You are just being a xenophobe.