POWER to the people. I don’t know if you’ve ever met “the people” but, in my experience, they tend to be a thrawn lot, prone to regurgitating tabloid headlines and speaking volubly on subjects about which they know little. They are, in other words, natural newspaper columnists, and you wouldn’t want any of these having a say in how the country is run.

However, the Scottish Government, which tries to run the country with one hand tied behind its back, is enlisting the help of the people – or at least 120 of them – to help the country face a future that looks increasingly crap.

Members of the Citizens’ Assembly (echoes of the French Revolution there; again I say – beware the people!) will be selected like juries, except that it’ll be proportionate in terms of age, gender, ethnicity, class, geography and, er, it says here, “political attitudes”. So it’ll be a few liberals.

Their task will be to make non-binding recommendations after hearing evidence from experts and even questioning them, which sounds cheeky. The idea behind the Assembly is to repair the “broken” politics that afflicts the age and to bridge the gulf between the political class and decent people.

But there are plenty of politicians who want to maintain that gulf. The Conservatives and Liberals are boycotting the Assembly, so it must be a good thing. I’m not sure what Labour’s position is, but nobody cares about them any more.

At any rate, they’re all saying it’s an "SNP stunt” by which informed opinion would lead inevitably to independence. Objective commentators, meanwhile, have formed the subjective opinion that it’s right to be sceptical. Naw. It isnae. It’s this permanent state of suspicion and cynicism among politicians and the media that has alienated they, the people, from the democratic system.

Every single political initiative now is greeted with a wave of ya-boo scepticism. It’s deeply depressing. You could give everybody in the country free pants and you’d still get folk treating the garments with suspicion, sniffing them first before wearing, or trying to scrape off the brand motif, a Saltire accompanied by a depiction of a woad-faced man shouting 'Freedom!'

Other countries have had assemblies, though it’s fair to say these nations are not as full of nutters as Scotland is. And not one of these – Ireland, the Netherlands and so forth – has gone on to be any more independent than they were already.

It should also be pointed out that leading nutter Rory Stewart has supported the idea of assemblies, though not in a specifically Scotch sense.

I’ll be quite candid with you and admit I find listening to the public excruciating, and would probably prefer some sort of feudalism myself. At least they didn’t have Question Time back then.

But, for worse or worser, we live in a democracy, so we might at least try to be informed. What if I should get the call? Should I heed it? Or should I heed oot the door, saying, 'Nae chance' ?

I can’t string two words together and am not really interested in current affairs, so they’d probably make me chairman or something. I see that you get £200 for showing up and an allowance for accommodation, which presumably means a hotel. I can see no mention of a 'minibar' among the entitlements, and would certainly need clarification on that score.

Would I have to wear a tie? I’m not sure I even have a shirt any more. Do you get a special hat? So many questions. Ach, to hell with it. I think I’ll leave it to others to become informed.

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I GUARANTEE not one journalist in the land was surprised at the PR cock-up caused by Boris Johnson’s domestic tiff. What d’you expect? The woman behind it – his erstwhile partner – is “a leading PR practitioner”.

This week, Carrie Symonds appears to have compounded the PR disaster by releasing a contrived pic of herself and the blond bombshell enjoying an idyllic, loved-up scene in a garden. It was allegedly taken by a friend of hers and gives the impression of being a paparazzi job.

First problem: when you’re professing unhappiness at neighbours nosing in on your domestic tiff, it’s not a good idea to then sanction what looks like a picture by a snapper nosing in on your day among the daisies.

Second problem: Boris has his back to the camera, and detractors allege it’s the old Bo-Jo, with the fat bum and the bammy barnet. Implication: the pic is old.

Third problem: the whole stunt is so contrived that there was never a chance of the world’s most cynical press buying into this and running stories that would make Mills and Boon wince. Only one remedy here: Boris’s leading PR practitioner needs to get a leading PR practitioner in to do her PR.

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NOW to dish the dirt on cleanliness. In the 1990s, theories developed that there was too much hygiene in our society and that this had led to a rise in allergies.

Folk, particularly little folk, needed exposure to microbes – aye, thaim – so that they might develop defence mechanisms against the malevolent mites. However, as a result of this Nineties hogwash, so to say, even today – according to the Royal Society for Public Health – a quarter of people believe that hygiene in the hoose isn’t important.

One in six men thought there was low or no risk in not hand-washing after the lavatory, while one in 12 didn’t see a need after handling raw meat. These figures were halved among the more civilised of the two traditional genders.

It’s maybe true that our hooses had become a bit antiseptic, as it were, rather like the Star Trek interiors discussed in last week’s controversial column. But, as the Royal Society says, the best thing is to keep your hoose clean and go ootside to commune with the germs.

No one’s asking you to stick your heid in dog poop. Just immerse yourself in the mucky soil and putrid bogs so thoughtfully provided by Mother Nature.