CALL it the pub bore test. Every year or two, it snows in Britain hard enough to leave a covering of the stuff in unusual places like London or southern England—usually not for very long. Cars and trains get stuck, airports close, and British newspaper editors face a simple test. Will they, or will they not, dust off that old journalistic stand-by: the article asking why-oh-why is Britain so bad at cold weather compared to places like Siberia, Sweden or Canada?

It requires a pretty impressive level of laziness and/or cynicism to pose that question in print. A squint at the map, after all, reveals a swathe of countries at the top (and bottom) of the world where it snows a lot every year, and it duly makes sense to spend a lot of money on snowploughs, heated runways and the like. Around the middle of the globe, there are a bunch of rather hot countries where buying a snowplough would be silly. In between (where Britain lies, and this is a clue), are countries where it snows just enough to make it hard to know how much to invest in winter kit.

Who failed the pub bore test this morning?

Well, here is a bit from the Daily Mail's first-person account of the chaos, headlined, "Why we're a laughing stock with the rest of the world":

Driving home from the New Forest to Surrey, I had heard on the radio that a jackknifed lorry had made the M25 a no-go area, so I took a detour. My wheeze failed miserably and after slithering, lost, around the death-trap side-streets of Guildford, I was at a standstill on the A25... Yes, a bit of snow had fallen and yes, the road was icy in places, but with a little extra care, driving should have been perfectly possible; and in a story repeated up and down the country, no one seems to be able explain why it wasn't. When I asked Surrey County Council, they insisted the A25 had been gritted twice that day (if so, I certainly didn't feel the crunch beneath my wheels) and disruption was inevitable in such conditions...Whiling away the long hours in my steamed-up Toyota on Tuesday night, I thought of the many countries I have visited on foreign reporting assignments with far harsher climates than ours, and wondered why they never have these problems. When it snows in New York, the roads are carpeted by feet of the stuff, not a slushy veneer, yet the Cadillacs glide freely along Madison Avenue all winter long. Snowploughs are out all night every night clearing everything in their path. The same goes for Stockholm and Toronto. From the hill near my house, I can see the runways of Gatwick Airport which yesterday – like Edinburgh's – were eerily empty. They may have been snowbound yet I once landed smoothly at Gander, Newfoundland, in an Arctic blizzard with the mercury at 30 below.

I have an alternative headline to suggest: "Journalist skidding on ice on summer tyres heads for gritted main road, meets nasty congestion as other drivers have same idea."

The Daily Expressheadlines its why-oh-why piece: "The Coldest Winter for 100 years, so where are the gritters?" Again, keen to help, I have an alternative headline to suggest: "The Coldest Winter for 100 years: an event that is fairly hard to plan for."

Here is the Sun(headline: White Hot With Rage Over Snow"), reporting:

Three major airports were closed today in conditions other nations handle with ease as forecasters said it is one of the coldest starts to December on record. Gatwick—where 100,000 tons of snow were cleared in the last 24 hours—was shut for a second day and will not re-open until at least 6am tomorrow.

That one could arguably be headlined: "After highly unusual cold snap, Gatwick airport clears 100,000 tonnes of snow in 24 hours, hopes to open soon."

To be fair, it is not only the tabloids.

Here is theDaily Telegraph's first person piece:

"virtually the moment a flake of snow appears the country inexorably grinds to a halt, especially the railways. I am sure an old friend in Canada and my brother-in-law in Sweden would find it all most amusing"

And here is the Guardian, reporting:

"As with so many things, Sweden seems to lead the way when it comes to managing the seasons. Winter is dealt with by the law book: drivers are required to fit their vehicles with winter tyres, local authorities to keep the roads clear, and shop owners to ensure the pavement outside their business is non-treacherous."

Now, this is not some madly jingoistic defence of Britain's central government or local authorities. It may be that local councils, bus companies, train operators and airports have made mistakes and done daft things. An international comparison or two might well be a useful: but is it too much to ask for those comparisons to be with neighbours with similar climates, like Belgium or France?

A final headline suggestion. Sweden does have lots of snowploughs and gritting lorries, but not as many as you would think from some of the British reports this morning. It is quite common to see roads covered with fresh snow even in central Stockholm. Cars and buses rumble along them without a worry, precisely because they have to use studded winter tyres, as mentioned above. And those tyres are not cheap. A quick internet search generates a quote of £262 to fit four winter tyres to my very ordinary Citroën.

Imagine, for a moment, that a British government grew so anxious about headlines about snow chaos that it passed a Swedish-style law making winter tyres compulsory. Who will take my bet that Britain would not wake to the following headline: "Nanny state imposes £300 Euro-tyres on British motorists"?