THAT’S that then – 2022: the year of bills going up and Liz Truss going down as the worst PM in history and trains going nowhere and the SNP going to court to try to get a referendum and all of us going: is it just me or is the world getting worse? Wasn’t there a time when things were getting better? Oh well.

But the least I can do is try and work out some possible lessons from it all. 2022 was the year in which a self-styled free speech absolutist banned people from Twitter and a group of Edinburgh students shouted louder and louder until the screening of a documentary was called off so maybe 2023 could be the year in which we learn to disagree better. I do hope so. I fear not.

So off we go with lesson one, which emerged from the death of the Queen. I guess you remember where you were when you heard. I was in Liverpool, in a bar at the Albert Docks. I could hear young people at the next table talking disrespectfully about the news. Part of me said: they’re young. Part of me said: how dare you. I’m still not sure which is right.

Mark Smith: Who is going to stand up for Glasgow City Council?

The days that followed were interesting though and got me thinking about a key feature of our monarchical system which is how much changes while apparently not changing – the little detail, for example, of the diverse witnesses to the proclamation of the King (it was all men when the Queen was proclaimed). It’s also true that extraordinary change happened in Scotland during her reign, including devolution. Scotland is radically different and yet, until a few months ago, the head of state was always the same.

For me – maybe not for you – this was one of the richest lessons of 2022: the British constitution works because it’s a kind of unwritten constant that facilitates change; a constitutional monarchy cannot, for instance, be an obstacle to independence. And perhaps that’s the best trick of our weird little system: it has a knack of finding change that isn’t too fast, or violent or destructive. And for those who want change, there’s nothing to stop them, certainly not a King or Queen.

There were other lessons in 2022. I wrote a lot over the year about the projects the Scottish Government has badly mis-managed. I spoke to people on Arran who are at the end of their tether with the botched ferries.

I also spoke to experts about the disastrous census the SNP insisted on doing separately from the rest of the UK. What the experts told me was that policymakers will have to rely on flawed data and who’s likely to suffer the most? The people who live in deprived areas of course.

The question all of this raises for me – time and time again – is the question all Scots ask themselves a lot these days: what’s the best way to manage our affairs? Some insist it is independence (I hear you) but it also makes sense to look at the evidence and ask when it’s right to cede sovereignty and pool our resources (as in the case of the census for instance).

Mark Smith: The conundrum of the Yes polls

I suppose, in the end, this is what the Scottish Question is really all about and my answer, offered as opinion rather than fact, is that it’s generally better – politically, economically, socially and culturally – for nations to cooperate closely and give up some independence. And if you’re one of the ones who thinks we should reduce that cooperation, prove it – respectfully, positively, and logically.

Which leads me nicely to the last bit, which is basically a selection of the questions that spring to mind about the last year – questions for the Scottish Government and the SNP. They’re in no particular order, and there will be some I’ve missed out, but I thought I’d throw them out there as a leaving present to 2022.

Here we go: When will they admit that the National Social Care plan will not work? When will they lift the ban on alcohol in trains? In what ways would I be better off in an independent Scotland? And finally: will I ever vote Tory again? Who knows! Happy New Year.