Long before we are extinguished by global food shortages or raised sea levels, I predict, we are fated to die of boredom, struck down in our prime by the devastating virus 0157eco-smugness. Doctors will be powerless to stop as the bug invades our minds, causing nervous paralysis leading to eventual seizure. We are doomed, for sure, to terminal ennui brought on by environmental righteousness.

This is the terrible paradox of the environmental movement. The paradox that, if society proceeds down the true path of eco-purity, we may well save the planet; but will simultaneously discover that life is too dull to be worth living on it any more. Women in particular, I fear, will find themselves returned to the Dark Ages.

How can it be otherwise? No skiing, no cars, no travel, no exotic foods, no extravagance, no Hollywood, no wasteful labour-saving devices, no clothes made of anything but recycled plastics and hemp. No more Luxx magazine filled with beautifully engineered, sleek, accessory porn. In their place we will chant a litany of carbon offset, recycling and composting, the buttresses of a new religion that makes radical Islam resemble Methodism.

What is becoming so fascinating about the new puritanism is not just that we are all being brainwashed to accept the inevitability of hair shirts, but also their unquestioned moral worth. That somehow or other, this life of sackcloth and bicycles is going to benefit our souls and make us all better people.

This has been made apparent by the reaction to David Bellamy, the grand old man of botany, who declared recently that the extended spring ski season in Scotland - deep, extensive snow cover, the best in a decade - could be proof that global warming does not exist quite as painted. He pointed out that the global high-temperature record has not been broken for a decade, and temperatures are now flat or falling.

Indeed, the impartial observer might see the harder weather - together with the recent bitterly cold winter in China and the Arctic - as a joyful thing: a sign that maybe things aren't that bad after all.

But oh no. This kind of heresy must be crushed. And Bellamy, the author of a paper called Climate Stability: An Inconvenient Truth, is a dangerous man, an anti-Christ to the prevailing orthodoxy, who must be dealt with as quickly as possible by the eco-thought police.

We should not be surprised when global-warming policy officers and climate-change academics rush to declare that the evidence for pending disaster is “overwhelming”. Nor when they announce, in as menacing a tone as Abu Izzadeen, that we ignore what is happening “at our peril”. These people have, after all, to justify their job titles; the industry of which they are part is worth billions of pounds a year; and for everyone in it to grow and prosper and pay their mortgages, the snow must continue to melt and the seas continue to rise. Just as the makers of aspirin wish you had a headache, the eco-alarmists rather love high temperatures.

My real problem with the eco-alarmists is the pleasure they take in austerity; their evident desire to strip away pleasure. Deep down, they disapprove of skiing, even on a Scottish scale. They dislike colour, excess and fun. They really do want to see us imprisoned in a narrow, grey, scratchy world of recycled car tyres and hemp lingerie (and no, I didn't make that up).

Hence their gleefulness in the economic downturn, because it will mean that people are poorer, and will be forced to do things their way. Slowly but surely, the roundheads will take over the Earth. In their ideal world we will not travel, except by bus; we will read gloomy books like A Short History of the Future (on recycled paper); and luxury will consist of a wind-up MP3 player.

What amuses me, wryly, is how this new religion is following in the path of all traditional ones in its impact on women. Climate change is indeed a feminist issue. Who will be the victims of the eco-smug; of this pious gospel of make-do-and-mend? Why, women - who will have to forgo their washing machines and their dish washers, carry supermarket shopping on the bus, and return to the horror of reuseable nappies.

A group of environmentalists have posted a tuition video called How To Darn A Sock on YouTube, where it has received nearly 8,000 hits. Its popularity has been eclipsed by the short film, How To Sew A Button On, which has been seen by 90,000 people. Funny, isn't it, how women spent centuries escaping from this kind of slave labour, and now it is being sneaked back in under the guise of saving the planet. Women will always suffer in a poorer world.

The environmental movement has become, if not quite a man-made hoax, then at the very least a fashionable bandwagon for very dodgy facts and sharp marketing. How do they know, except by the wildest guesstimate, that British cars emitted 69.9 million tonnes of CO2 last year? How can anyone claim that a £20 “ecobutton” for a computer (the latest gadget for the faithful, to power down the machine when not in use) will save me 135kg of carbon every year? These figures are patently cobblers, just as pictures of lonely polar bears on shrinking icebergs are manipulative sentimentalism.

Meanwhile, we should lift our hats to carbon-management firms, surely the most surreal triumph of modern capitalism, which have created a trade in hypothetical waste; as whimsical as fantasy football. Were we all so clever as to dream that one up.

If we may dream at all. Frankly the thought of life in this smug, dull, joyless, labour-intensive, recycled, fair trade, waste-free world makes a woman yearn to be already dead and buried in her eco-friendly coffin, fertilising some field for methane-free cows. At least that way one can be sure of a rest.

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