The above responses identify a series of issues that extend beyond archaeology and Brexit. Each contributor raises challenges and opportunities for archaeologists within a post-truth, pre- and post-Brexit environment, while calling for disciplinary solidarity and vigorous engagement beyond the bounds of the discipline. This is significant and positive, as it demonstrates ongoing critical thinking about how we in the heritage sector pro-actively engage with socio-political issues beyond our discipline.

I agree with Gardner (Reference Gardner2018) that we should welcome the inclusion of archaeological data into public debate about issues such as identity. The significance of archaeology to the big debates of our time has a corollary in the ongoing social relevance of the archaeologist, not merely as a collector of obscure data about the past, or as curator-protector of old things and places, but as an active agent in ongoing public discourse. In this context, the archaeologist—as Schlanger (Reference Schlanger2018) suggests—has increasingly assumed the fashionable dual role of both respected authority and distrusted expert. Archaeology across Europe is a degree-level entry profession, which reinforces our ‘elite’ status in the eyes of the public. Gardner (Reference Gardner2018) notes that universities are sometimes regarded as indicative of social division; the very nature of our profession might be seen as problematic, to Brexiteers, for instance, and may colour how our research and contributions are consumed. This is a problem for our time and not necessarily of our making; Schlanger (Reference Schlanger2018) suggests it to be the result of a conflation of academic impact-creep and austerity politics.

The respondents broadly agreed with my identification of the problem, but offer alternative perspectives and solutions. I sense that Schlanger feels my position to be somewhat ‘snowflakey’, with my ire not focused on the correct targets. Bonacchi (Reference Bonacchi2018) comments that my suggested plan of action is laudable, but does not quite account for the complexity of human motivation or the vagaries of how the internet and social media work. She argues that pushing back—being a ‘public intellectual’—can only go so far; what is needed is substantial and profound public engagement, and I, of course, cannot disagree with this. I would, however, also suggest that we should not underestimate the value of doggedly contributing to online discussions, leaving a trail of evidence and posting links to research in relevant timelines and conversations. Of course, we cannot change all minds, and embedded change takes time. Yet that does not mean that we should not engage. I fully agree with Bonacchi's suggestion that we could do more to engage with school curricula to at least counter some culturally embedded myths and stereotypes. Furthermore, the preparation of future archaeologists for engagement in all senses of the word must become more embedded in archaeological degree programmes. As archaeologists, we know better than anyone that this is a long game.

Regardless of our efforts, when Brexit finally happens (if it ever does), the Brexit hypothesis will almost certainly endure. At the time of writing, there is no sign of it abating. In October 2018, the ‘Making connections: Stonehenge in its prehistoric world’ exhibition opened at Stonehenge visitor centre, a collaboration between English Heritage and the British Museum. Predictably, media responses to this event were coloured by Brexit neurosis. The exhibition displayed evidence for ‘prehistoric Brexit’ (Morris Reference Morris2018), and The Daily Mail headlined the story as ‘Proof of prehistoric Brexit? Stonehenge exhibition of ancient artefacts reveals how Britain has ALWAYS had a fraught relationship with ‘Europe’’ (Williams Reference Williams2018). This exhibition gave licence for commentators (and readers) to argue that Brexit was an inherently British condition—nothing new, a normal state of affairs—why all the fuss? Worryingly, these interpretations of the exhibition were encouraged by English Heritage themselves, and not simply by the timing of its launch (coinciding with the climax of Brexit negotiations). They explicitly situated ‘Making connections’ in a Brexit context, with the press release for the exhibition entitled ‘Rocky relationship between British Isles and Europe is nothing new’ (English Heritage 2018). Interviews with staff who worked on the exhibition tried to downplay such interpretations (Morris Reference Morris2018), but the shadow of Brexit clearly influenced the corporate marketing of the event.

Bonacchi (Reference Bonacchi2018) argued in her response that archaeologists and heritage organisations ultimately cannot control what journalists write about our research. We surely have a responsibility, however, to set the terms of debate with a forethought to reception, and then be ready to follow-up vigorously when misinterpretation occurs. One of the strongest threads that connects the three responses is a call for archaeologists to support one another in the public arena. Gardner (Reference Gardner2018) suggests that we need to enter debate in non-academic fora not simply to defend our own work, but also that of colleagues. Schlanger calls for us to ‘stand shoulder to shoulder’. Both Gardner and Bonacchi argue that, as a discipline, we need to present a more united front, and to engage pro-actively with policy-makers and policy.

These calls for disciplinary solidarity, advocacy and activism are all the more vital as we await the inevitable post-Brexit Brexit hypothesis mutation, as suggested by Schlanger's (Reference Schlanger2018) dystopian vision of Union flags draped from Stonehenge. We will all need to be vigilant.