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It’s been a grim summer for news. It’s supposed to be “silly season” but the nincompoop great and the good have conspired to make one mind-blowingly bad decision after another, in a concerted attempt to ruin our holidays. Grasping Infantino wanted to sell-out our beautiful game, Burnham inexplicably made 10-time loser and perma-dolt Ed Miliband Foreign Secretary, Trump’s idiot adventure in Iran cost us all dearly for sod-all, and of course Putin’s three day special operation entered its fifth summer as the psycho’s meatgrinder claimed its 750,000th life. Oh yes, also for sod all.

Everything happens for a reason they prattle with infantile predictability on social media. And this is true, everything does happen for a reason, but unfortunately the reason is that people are stupid and they make bad decisions. So this morning I enjoyed a rare moment of pure, untrammelled joy to read that someone with a bit of clout had actually made a correct decision.

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A fantastically, fabulously, joyously correct decision.

Sir Tim Martin has banned people in his pubs from using loudspeakers.

On their phones, on their i-pads, on their laptops.

Sir Tim, boss of Wetherspoons, is already a knight of the realm, but I am seriously thinking of contacting the Pope to see if the Pontiff can squeeze him into the next round of sainthoods.

Britain’s chain of Wetherspoons, I would contest, is already as vital to this country’s well-being as the NHS. A pint of Ruddles for not much more than the price of a first class stamp is truly one of this nation’s saving graces.

And Tim’s reflection that “In a world dominated by other people’s music and amplified sound, Wetherspoon pubs are an oasis of tranquillity and contemplation” might be a teensy bit of a stretch… but the goal is admirable!

No one goes to a pub to listen to someone else’s music, and is there anything in the whole canon of infuriation more skin-crawlingly annoying than having to listen to some ill-mannered, entitled, obnoxious twerp on a loud and mind-numbingly boring work call?

“Yah, yah, as I said to Jezza in the meeting we need to pivot and deep dive into the synergies…” you know the type.

Generally speaking I take a dim view of capital punishment, but I’d make an exception in Jezza’s case.

It is an Englishman’s right to sit in a pub in the company of friends and enjoy good beer undisturbed by others.

It is, or should be, civilised social cohesion at its very best.

Sir Tim told me this morning: "There is room, of course, for different types of pubs. One size doesn't fit all. There are plenty of gastro pubs, music pubs and so on, which provide a magnificent service to their customers.

"But there is a type of pub that is preferred by most of the people, most of the time - which, I hope, has many of the characteristics of a Wetherspoon pub. No music. High standard of design. Very clean. Good beer. A mixed crowd and a melting pot - all ages, all types. Not too long a wait at the bar. Staff who know customers' names and vice versa. These factors create the most important pub ingredient: atmosphere."

The blueprint is of course George Orwell's 'perfect pub' the Moon Under Water - of which there are quite a few under the Wetherspoons banner.

My own favourite literary champion of the boozer however is writer Hillaire Beloc who wrote a paean to the civilising, socialising role of the British pub in The South Country, which ends with the aspirational lines: “And the men that were boys when I was a boy, Shall sit and drink with me.”

It remains a firmly-held ambition. In a quiet, welcoming, environment please.

And that’s why Sir Tim’s decision carries so much import.

In the topsy-turvy, slightly mentally ill world we now live in, we are so used to having the “rights” of a vocal and occasionally aggressive entitled minority placed ahead of the rights of the mass of good, decent ordinary people that this ban - which is just good manners and common sense really - feels almost revolutionary.

The needs of the many being prioritised over the selfishness and special interest of the few.

Just imagine if that concept could be transferred to British politics.

I shall nip out for a blissfully quiet pint later and discuss it with my buddies.