I doubt many people really know what the overall impact will be of either leaving or staying in the EU. I'm sure I don't (although I comfort myself with the notion that at least I know I don't know, unlike many of the ostensibly informed commentators yelling at each other from their respective bunkers). But it is possible to observe some very specific practical details that absolutely will make a difference to many ordinary people's lives. Here's one.
Pretend (if necessary) that you are an English youngster, just out of college, looking for a job. Or maybe you're a late 20-something Scot, already moving in your career but interested in adding some international experience to your CV. Or you could be a Welsh 30 or 40 something, planning to grab the family and head to somewhere less hilly, and a bit warmer, with a good job to fuel your endeavors. Hey, you could even be 50+, Northern Irish, and just getting a wee bit fed up with all that rain and the incessant green, but with absolutely no plans to retire yet.
Fortunately for you, as any of the above, you were born in the United Kingdom, and because of that you are an unusually privileged individual. You possess, or can easily and legally obtain, an extremely valuable piece of paper. It's a little booklet, purple on the outside, with lots of magical-looking wavy lines and strange codes and runes on the pages, one of which contains your name and picture. It's called a passport, and it is an unusually powerful artifact, since as a symbol of your citizenship of an EU country, it gives you the right to live and work in a wide range of other countries, comprising one of the most substantial economic regions on the planet.
As such, that little booklet creates for you a vast landscape of life and job opportunities that many in the world would risk death for. In fact, some already do. Just as in the movie Elysium, where citizenship unlocked the healing beds needed to heal the daughter of Matt Damon's character's friend, so too does your citizenship of Britain in the EU unlock some pretty life-enhancing opportunities. It is a work permit on steroids; a veritable Get Into Work Free card.
Now, take that precious passport of yours, rip it up, and flush it down the toilet. Courtesy of Brexit.
(Yes, I'm aware that the above preaches as much to the choir as to the rest. Maybe I should have written it for Gran.)