If I pulled out now, I’d die. If I pulled onto this road, in front of this lorry, things would get extremely awful, extremely quickly. It’s a situation I find myself in pretty much every morning.

At least as frequently, I’m in the reverse situation: if somebody else pulls out in front of me, one or both of us will be in a perilous state.

It’s fine. They’ve never pulled out on me, and neither have I on them, but every day in this country, something unspeakably horrible like it happens. A moment’s lapse of concentration, someone looks but doesn’t see, and lives are ruined, or ended, because it was assumed, as a result of half an hour’s vague assessment perhaps 30 years ago, that a driver was safe to handle two tonnes of vehicle at anything up to 70mph. And if they aren’t? Well, that’s life.

Of course, it’s not going to happen to me, just like it’s not going to happen to you, and it wasn’t going to happen to all the people to whom something horrendous has already happened, or is today, or will tomorrow, where bad choices are made and terrible consequences are felt.

It can’t, and won’t, go on like this. In the same way that it was once fine to smoke where you liked, like it was once fine to be penned in at a football match, and like it was considered a spot of bad luck in some heavy industries if you went to work one morning and your family never saw you again, that was then and this is now. There is no reason why travelling from one place to another should be any different: the world gets safer, people live longer and risks get smaller.