I am not surprised that morris dancing is on its last legs. It's one of those old English traditions whose charms have long been overtaken by its feebleness. For a national dance it has always seemed to me to lack - well, pretty well everything. Those jingly bells, the little ribbons, the stick thing they wave about and those mimsy hops. Is this a proper activity for adults, or is it something that's escaped from the playground?

I cannot understand why England, with its great heritage of bloodlust, war and unruly sex, should have come up with something so wimpish. Look at the national dances of other countries, and see the way they celebrate romance - whether fierce encounters between the sexes, or great victories on the battlefield.

In Georgia they have a splendid thing called the Khorumi, where 30 or 40 dancers re-enact the country's warlike past, with the men as the victorious soldiers and the women supplying - well, the reward. In Cuba they have the rumba, its meaning unmistakable; and what about the tango of Argentina, the nearest thing to sexual congress you'll see outside the bedroom?

For those of us brought up north of the Border, dance means something altogether more passionate. We hurl our partners across the floor in the Duke of Perth, indulge in sexual threesomes in the Dashing White Sergeant, imitate battle manoeuvres in the Reel of the 51st Division, and use real swords in a dance which is ultimately about eviscerating your enemy. In morris dancing they have clogs.

How did the English end up with something so wet? It is said that the origins of morris dancing go back to the Moresca which celebrated victory over the Moorish armies in the 15th century. Versions of it can still be seen in Spain, where it is a proper sword dance. But if this is the case, why did the English substitute sticks for swords, and little bells for the sound of clashing arms? The result is anodyne to the point of narcosis.

It is not surprising to hear that young people find it too embarrassing to join in. Yesterday a morris spokesman expressed the hope that there would be a winter recruiting drive for the “spring fertility offensive”. Now that sounds intriguing, except that the dance itself falls so lamentably short of the promise. Most morris dancers seem to be male, and nearly all of them, in their white stockings and funny hats, fall several clogs short of a fertility offensive, whatever that may be.

There is hope, however. As morris dancing dips below the horizon of history, another national dance is ready to be claimed - full-blooded, sexually charged, competitive and deeply antagonistic. I refer, of course, to Strictly Come Dancing.

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