When subsequently challenged, Mr Yates invoked “discrimination” and insisted that he is entitled to use “any bathroom.” The school is currently weighing the views of parents against the prospect of legal action and accusations of “transphobia,” with another meeting on the matter scheduled for September. Mr Yates is, he says, “completely overwhelmed with how the community is coming out and supporting me.”

At which point, readers may wonder whether such overwhelming support, largely from progressive women, is actually part of the problem.

It’s interesting to see how Mr Yates’ supporters – again, largely progressive women – will merrily elevate themselves with the airing of modish views, their displays of compassion and inclusivity, while in effect screwing over the girls. Girls, who, by disapproving, even politely, become low-status.

Because when you look at a sixteenth-century mirror salvaged from a warship belonging to Henry VIII, the first thing you want to know is how it might induce psychological crises in the sexually dysmorphic.

We’re also told, “A gendered spin on the character can open up more potential for exploring Bond’s individuality.” And this exploration of the character’s individuality will apparently be achieved by erasing a rather fundamental aspect of the character – his maleness – and replacing him with an entirely different person of a different sex.

Readers are invited to ponder whether similar transitions might enrich the character of, say, Miss Marple, who, via similar logic, could be depicted as male, and as always having been male. Thereby exploring her individuality. Answers on a postcard, please.

We do seem to be witnessing an upsurge in such sly provocations, and almost always from the same kinds of people with the same kinds of views – an eerie uniformity. And so, Narcissistic Glitter Bint can invade someone’s personal space and shower them, and their children, with some substance – in this case, glitter – and do it repeatedly, against their wishes, while saying, rather triumphantly, “I’m not touching him.”

The dynamic is basically, “You, unlike me, have some self-restraint, which gives me an advantage, therefore I shall test it and see how far I can go.” It’s the psychology of a child unaccustomed to consequences. 

I think we can assume that madam’s professed “time blindness” – which apparently precludes the use of the reminder function on her phone – doesn’t result in her turning up for work early, or accidentally working extra hours. Or being in any way more useful or helpful, or less self-involved.

I think we can assume that with some confidence.

Punctuality is, among other things, a gesture of recognition, of empathy. You’re acknowledging the other person as mattering, as someone whose time is as finite as your own and no less valuable. And if someone exempts themselves from such reciprocal expectations – having been encouraged to do so by supposedly grown-up educators – then it seems likely they will do less well in life, whether socially or materially.

To pick a humdrum example – if a schoolfriend’s mom invites you to join them for tea, and you turn up an hour late, unapologetic, and still expecting to be fed, this is not an obvious basis for congratulation. Or a second invitation.

From this childhood example, you can, I think, extrapolate.