THERE is a lot of talk in the air, just now, about the madness of the European Union's Common Fisheries Policy (CFP), and how its strict quota system forces British trawlermen to throw vast quantities of fish back into the sea, dead. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, a television chef and food writer, mounted a passionate attack on the CFP this week on Channel 4 (you can watch it here, as long as you can tolerate the maddening, compulsory advertisements about meerkats). As happens on such programmes, Mr F-W went out on a trawler with some gruff but friendly fishermen, who told him how it broke their hearts to throw perfectly edible cod back into the sea.

The programme noted, correctly, that this is appallingly wasteful, and that the CFP is working very badly. It explained how the problem was that the giant, well-equipped boat in question had used up its cod quota for the year and was now fishing for other less desirable species like ling and monkfish in a desperate attempt to earn enough money to keep operating. But alas, when the nets were pulled back in they were full of lots of cod, and only a very few monkfish. Mr F-W looked miserable as he watched 90% of the catch being ditched over the side.

For a huge majority of those watching, I suspect the conclusion was that wicked, stupid EU bureaucrats were to blame. I imagine the following exchange in the House of Commons this week, between a Labour MP, Kelvin Hopkins and a Conservative MP, John Redwood, would have cheered them greatly:

Kelvin Hopkins (Luton North) (Lab): Wisely, Britain already has a number of opt-outs from the European Union. I am thinking specifically of the single currency; it was to the great credit of our former leader that he kept us out of the euro. Would not a test arise, however, if Britain decided to opt out of something that we currently opt into? For example, if we chose to withdraw from the common fisheries policy and to place our own historic fishing grounds under democratic British control, would not that represent a test of our sovereignty? John Redwood (Wokingham) (Con): Indeed; the hon. Gentleman makes a powerful point. I, too, would like us to opt out of the common fisheries policy. I would like us to elect a Government in this country who had the necessary majority to go off to Brussels and say, “It is now the settled will of this Parliament that we want different arrangements for fishing, and if you will not grant them through the European Union arrangements, we would like to negotiate our exit from the common fisheries policy.” That is exactly the kind of renegotiation that many of my hon. Friends were elected to achieve, and, had we had a majority, we would have wanted our Government to do something like that. There are a number of other policy areas, some of which are more politically contentious across the Floor of the House, where we think we can make better decisions here than are being made in our name by the European Union.

Having worked in Brussels for several years, reporting on the CFP and above all on the horrible annual ministerial meetings at which fish quotas are doled out to each of the 27 member countries, I can sympathise too. Even hardened diplomats described the annual December fish council as a sickening farce, in which scientists proposes fishing bans or tiny quotas to preserve fish species from extinction, the European Commission increases the quotas, national ministers increase them again, and national fishing fleets are sent out again to rape the seas.

But here is the thing. It is emotionally satisfying to side with "our" British trawlermen, who risk their lives doing a dangerous yet somehow romantic job in wild seas, and dream of British fish being protected by British coastguard cutters ready to ram and biff foreign invaders.

But alas, the true tragedy of EU fisheries policy is a lot more complicated. This is a blog posting rather than a polished article, so forgive me for offering a few thoughts for readers to chew on:

Trawlermen are very good at telling reporters how it breaks their heart to throw fish over the side because of EU rules. Some are less quick to mention that throwing fish over the side for commercial profit is rife in their industry. It is called "high-grading" and happens when a trawler fills its holds with low or medium value fish near the beginning of a trip, then fills its nets with a more valuable species. Skippers routinely chuck the first catch over the side to make room for the more profitable fish.

The trawlermen also say they are forced to continue fishing in waters full of cod, after their cod quotas are exhausted, just to make ends meet. It is wrong and awful, one skipper tells Mr F-W: he is forced to look for Dover Sole, but catches tonnes of cod instead, which he has to discard. I hate to be harsh, but just maybe what you are hearing there is somebody describing a business that is only marginally viable, and which is only viable if he does stupid and wasteful things like go out fishing in the knowledge he can only land a fraction of his catch.

Trawling is only marginally viable in some northern European waters for all sorts of reasons. One big reason is historic over-fishing by fishing fleets. Another big reason is that there are still too many boats seeking to fish for too many days a year. Yes, the EU has paid national governments to decommission boats, but the boats that are left grow more and more powerful and efficient at finding fish every year. Even with a fleet of constant size, the so-called "technological creep" increases the average fleet's killing capacity by about 4% a year.

Lots of today's trawlers in places like the North Sea are big and fuel-thirsty. They were built at a time of lower fuel prices, when it made economic sense to trade engine power for labour. Now, though trawler fuel is tax-free in the EU (a walloping subsidy, by the way), high oil prices make some trawlers uneconomical every time they leave port.

The EU, meaning Brussels bureaucrats, knows the CFP is crazy. Top European Commission officials say the current quota system is indefensible. The problem is that certain key national governments, eg, France, Italy, Greece, Malta, Poland (it is a long list), are adamantly opposed to any reforms that would lead to wholesale restructuring and consolidation of fishing fleets.

Given the horribly fragile state of fish stocks, the best reforms would involve a market-based system, in which the overall catch were divided up into shares which could be traded among fishermen. This would give them an incentive to avoid overfishing (something like this has worked well in New Zealand). Just saying that the policy of throwing back dead fish must stop is not enough to save the fish. An end to discards is only safe if the overall "fishing effort" continues to be reduced. That must involve consolidation. But the French, notably, lead a camp wedded to the idea that each individual fishing fleet in each individual port must be preserved, and hang the preservation of fish.

Did you know (I do, because I have seen it with my own eyes) that French fishermen so dislike market forces that they set a minimum price that they will accept, nationwide, for each species, each time they land their catches? If dealers at fish markets fail to meet that minimum price, the boxes of fish are taken to the harbour wall and tipped into the water. French fishermen (always ready to say how their hearts are broken by EU rules) would rather destroy good fish than allow the market to set prices (or even allow those fish to be sent for free to hospitals, charities or the like).

British Eurosceptics love to point to Iceland as an example of a country that has managed cod stocks well. Iceland is not in the EU, they say, therefore leaving the EU would allow us to run cod fisheries much better, QED. Well, I have reported from Iceland and interviewed fishermen, fish wholesalers, politicians and officials about their system. Their model does work a lot better than the CFP. But, and this is relevant, Iceland's fishing grounds are also rather easy to manage. They are often "clean", meaning that if you dip your nets in one bit of sea, you catch one species. As a rule of thumb, this happens in colder water. Once you get down into the North Sea and the English Channel, let alone further south, trawlers must contend with mixed fisheries, where a single net may contain a dozen species.

Finally, what of the bold talk in Parliament about grabbing back control of British historical fishing grounds? It is heart-warming, but it is bunkum. Yes, the British government did a poor deal over fish to get into the EEC under Edward Heath. Yes, it is horrible seeing British ministers locked in airless meeting rooms in Brussels, locked into a system that destroys fishing stocks. It would be lovely to stamp our feet and say no British minister will ever take part in such a travesty again.

But many of the most valuable fish stocks, such as North Sea herring, swim between British, Dutch, Belgian and French waters. If we stalked out of the EU, good luck persuading some of our ex-partners to exercise restraint when part-time British herring are over their side of the line. Equally, there are trawlers from Belgium, for instance, with historic fishing rights in British waters dating back hundreds of years. So if we pulled out of the CFP, British fish ministers would still have to meet fish ministers from the French, Belgian, Dutch, Danish or Polish fleets each year to haggle over mutal access rights and allowable catches. Why, those ministers might even find it easier to meet for joint meetings once a year. They might even find themselves meeting in a city with easy transport links for the countries involved, such as Brussels.

So what is the answer? Fight for reform within the CFP. There are some big important countries that know the CFP is broken, and that the whole system needs to change. The Dutch are allies, the Nordics and—at least when it comes to traded quotas and market-based systems—the Spanish.

And please, television presenters of Britain, do not give a free pass to fishermen. They may be grizzled and brave, but in almost every country with a coastline, too many have proved themselves to be environmental vandals with no sense of their long-term interests, let alone those of the poor fish.

Update, Friday 14th. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's latest episode includes a visit to Brussels to lobby the EU. In the interests of fairness, I should report that he openly concedes that the causes of CFP failure are complex. He also has a practical suggestion: that the British fish-eating public ease the pressure on cod, salmon and tuna by eating a wider range of species, such as unfashionable but tasty mackerel and dab. His campaign website, Hugh's Fish Fight, links to all sorts of organisations with ideas on CFP reform. He also comes across as a thoughtful and decent man, rightly outraged by the horror of discards. Having seen Brussels at work, however, I worry that his campaign is too British-centric. The real problem here is countries like France, and their cowardly pandering politicians who live in terror of the fishing lobby because theirs is a picturesque, romantic and dangerous job.

Under a previous pseudonym I once argued that politicians live by what I call the Richard Scarry rule, namely, no elected politician likes to tangle with any sector of the economy that routinely appears in children's books (eg, firemen, farmers, fishermen, nurses, teachers, drivers of planes, trains and things that move). The British government has wanted CFP reform for years, but British ministers calling for reform are ten-a-penny in the EU, and their arguments are undermined by the ferocity of the Eurosceptic camp back home. If Mr F-W really wants to change things, he needs to launch his campaign in France. Good luck with that.