I live in a country where 100,000 signatures can force a referendum on any law, necessitating a change in the constitution if passed by the electorate (me and around 6,500,000 others give or take a few). The Swiss are generally quite enthusiastic about exercising this right – a right we are proud of and believe is unique throughout the democratic world. Simplified, it ensures we can have our say on a wide range of subjects at federal, cantonal and municipal level, such as stem cell research (approved), abolishing the armed forces (almost approved), assisted euthanasia (legal in Canton Zürich, not sure about elsewhere), same sex partnerships (approved), joining the EU (not approved), universal Sunday shopping (not approved), the colour of next year’s dog licence (blue). Parliament can introduce any law it pleases; if we, the citizens, don’t like it, it ain’t gonna happen.

This fine and sunny morning, I am tempted to start collecting signatures that will prohibit Swiss radio (all stations) from playing James Blunt followed by Phil Collins (yes, I know he lives in Geneva, yes, I know he has a sprog by a Swiss woman, no, I do not fucking care). If I have my way, the death penalty will be reinstated for playing James Blunt (who lives in fucking Martigny Verbier – the preferred home-from-home of boorish British tax exiles, i.e. ex-Sandhurst warblers and hedge fund managers, besides a smattering of assorted Hooray Henries who have been priced out of Kensington and Chelsea), followed by Phil Collins followed by Shania Twat. For playing them at all, in fact, and for uttering their names and whistling their execrable tunes.

At least they can’t vote.