Bower is on familiar territory when he gets on to the sex life of his unhappy victim: he pounces with the salacious information that Corbyn once had an affair with a member of his inner circle. Is it Dianne Abbot? Yes. Is it that one about how he brought his friends round to reveal her splayed out naked on his bed? Yes.

Engaging in this kind of discussion invariably places you in the role of some kind of curmudgeonly old Luddite, brandishing a prophetic end-of-days fist at deaf-eared youngsters taking another hit of the technological crack-pipe. I hereby revoke all claims to prophecy, but the wizened and cranky demeanour might serve.