I have been thinking about it for a while and have decided that, on balance, I am broadly in favour of this new thing called “post-truth”, much though people cavil against it. It pleases me to think that we have moved beyond the stringent confines of truth and to a sunlit upland, a better place, where truth knows its place.

It was always an overrated virtue, the possession of the shriekingly self-righteous and the obsessive, not to mention John Keats, who was a deeply suspect character and usually out of his box on laudanum. Truth is only beauty if it’s your truth, isn’t it? When it’s somebody else’s truth it can be very ugly indeed, often best not mentioned. Does this dress make my bum