IF you didn’t know already, the diplomats have won. The hand wringers and professional bedwetters are now running the show.

Free speech, as we know it in this country, is dying.

And before you start mourning its loss, just keep in mind you’re to blame too.

You may not have had your hand on the pillow when it was being smothered, but you watched and kept your mouth shut.

The reality is change never happened and nations were never moved by trying to make sure everyone was happy.

Progress requires casualties.

Martin Luther King never said: ‘I have a dream – which some of you might have a view on if we gather round and discuss in a breakout session later on.’ Winston Churchill didn’t ‘consult them on the beaches.’ Emily Pankhurst said: ‘I’d rather be a rebel than a slave.’ Manning her guns made the world better.

In this line of work, I meet far too many people too frightened to express what they think.

It’s on the tips of their tongues but then the brake of turgid diplomacy kicks in. Too scared by what society might think - real or imagined.

If you’re lucky enough to have the courage of your convictions — well done, you are are now in a minority.

Some forms of self-censorship are healthy and necessary – society needs to grow up and develop. There’s no place for wicked name-calling or marginalising, but it went too far and the rules were never fully circulated.

The prevailing thought became: ‘If we can’t say that any more, can I say this?’ And bubble-blowing hesistancy crept in.

Having an opinion, a well-crafted one or heaven forbid a forceful one, used to be a cornerstone of these islands.

I don’t advocate foaming-mouthed reactionaries, but there’s a balance to be struck between that and sickly, caramel-coated diplomacy.

In 2013, we’ve never had more routes to express ourselves and yet we have so little to say.

Welcome to the culture of the invertebrate – from three Lions to three pussy cats in less than a century.