Suddenly I feel we are the most loathed nation on earth. Everyone used to love us. With our whisky, our tartans and tweeds, our Edinburgh Festival, our music, and the Loch Ness monster, we were one of the most recognisable and best-loved "brands" in the world.

Now, it seems, if we dare to express this unique and much-loved identity of ours by voting for independence in September, we will be outcasts. Nobody would want us in the European Union or Nato, and what used to be known as a land of canny bankers wouldn't be trusted with the British pound.

The threats that have been flying in recent days are highly unsettling for a nation trying to separate truth from scare tactics, as it braces itself for the most momentous decision in 300 years. As a Scot leaning towards the yes side, but still agonising, I welcome every constructive argument, but nothing infuriates me more than the rising torrent of unsubstantiated "facts" being presented by opponents of independence, serving no purpose other than to intimidate.

At the weekend we heard the president of the European Commission, José Manuel Barroso, opine that Scotland's entry into the EU would be "very difficult if not impossible". George Osborne's categorical rejection last week (dutifully echoed by Labour and the Liberal Democrat) of a currency union with an independent Scotland, took the bluffing game to another level altogether.

In every instance, I find myself asking (and wondering why BBC interviewers do not ask): why are all these politicians suggesting that Scotland should be cast out when sheer self-interest and common sense would dictate the opposite? Why, Mr Baroso, would the EU expel a country that has been a member for 40 years, and which has already transposed all EU legislation into Scottish law, knowing that this would cause utter havoc – not just for Scotland, but for all the other member states? Why, Mr Osborne, would you refuse to share a currency when it would be in the interests of British business to do so?

I don't buy Alex Salmond's argument that "the pound is as much Scotland's as it is England's". That seems to me facile, given the relative sizes of the two economies. But what is not in doubt is that the last thing businessmen south of the border will want is any kind of tariffs or trade barriers between the two countries. A currency is supposed to facilitate trade. So to rule out a shared currency now is not just counterintuitive, but also goes against the spirit of the Edinburgh agreement, which commits both countries, in the event of a yes, to negotiate the divorce in good faith. Osborne and co have decided to announce in advance the outcome of what are likely to be at least 18 months of tough negotiations.

No argument is too silly to be deployed. The no side even feigns indignation that if there were a currency union, Scotland would have to "cede sovereignty" to the Bank of England. "So what kind of independence would that be?" they scoff, as if they were in favour of independence, ignoring the fact that countries such as Germany and France cede sovereignty on monetary policy to the European Central Bank and still regard themselves as independent states.

On EU membership, the debate has become obscured by arguments over treaty changes and other alleged obstacles. Even the Scottish government fell into the trap of thinking that legalese is more persuasive than common sense, arguing in its white paper on independence that Scotland could enter the EU via article 48 rather than article 49 of the European treaties.

Frankly, Scots don't care whether it is article 48, 49 or 385c(ii). What they want to know is what practically will happen if they vote for independence. It is often overlooked that in the event of a yes vote, it is not just Edinburgh that will be renegotiating EU membership terms but London too. Does anyone imagine that the UK, having lost 5.3 million citizens, will retain its current share of the EU budget, its 73 MEPs and its current voting weight in the council of ministers?

What could make more sense than to negotiate Scotland's terms simultaneously with the renegotiation of the UK's, and to allocate, roughly, what the UK loses to Scotland? There will be a good year-and-a-half between the referendum and actual independence for such talks to take place. The alternative – inexplicably promoted by Barroso – would bring inconceivable chaos.

Just imagine: as midnight tolled and Scotland became independent, thousands of European fishermen would face bankruptcy as their boats were banned from Scottish waters. European students on Erasmus programmes would be sent home. Scots living in Europe (and Europeans in Scotland) would suddenly have no automatic right to be there. Worst of all, tariffs would be erected on all trade between Scotland and the EU (including England).

As Sir David Edward, formerly the UK's judge at the EU court of justice (and no supporter of independence), has argued, ejecting Scotland would involve unravelling the entire "skein of relationships" that has developed – legal, economic, commercial, political – only for them to be reintroduced later when Scotland was finally accepted.

Why would anyone want to inflict such disruption on themselves? In the same vein, why would Nato insist that Scotland leave – suddenly plunging a vital sector of the alliance into insecurity? It would be an act of preposterous irresponsibility to throw Scotland out. Continuity would be essential.

There are seven months to go to the referendum. Let's quit the scaremongering, and accept one thing: if the Scots democratically choose independence, then Brussels, London, and all global institutions will accept this and work to make it happen. Not for Scotland's sake, but for their own. No one is going to throw us out.