A good friend of mine, an almost lifelong heroin user who, more recently, has diversified into crack cocaine and therefore requires a quick blast from an oxygen cylinder before going for a walk, rang me not so long ago with a warning: “Rod, I’m worried about your drinking,” he said. “You’ve really got to look after yourself.” I couldn’t speak for a few moments, out of incredulity and indignation; I consume on average half a bottle of wine per day, which is too much, sure — but to be lectured by a crack-addled skaghead with half a lung and the facial complexion of that character in Munch’s The Scream seemed, to me, pushing it.

He explained further: “In my profession [he’s a rock singer], the drunks check out in their forties and fifties. We smackheads usually hold things together for another 20 years more.” Colloquially — and with a few famous exceptions — he was right.

I was reminded of this when reading about the fate of the unfortunately named Professor Nutt, chairman of the Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs, who has just been sacked by the government for similarly telling the truth. Alan Johnson and the prime minister do not wish to have an advisory council which actually advises, which provides objective information that may run counter to what they believe they can get away with politically. In the drugs debate, the truth should not be allowed to intervene too often; the truth is required to mind its Ps and Qs, keep quiet and wait in the hallway while policy is being decided.

David Nutt had made a few headline-grabbing quotes in an attempt to re-educate the public and the government about the comparative dangers of drugs. The first was that ecstasy is less dangerous than horse-riding, and no more addictive. Regarding the word “addiction” in its strictly clinical context he is, of course, correct — although “dependency” is a different issue. But he is also right — so far as I can work out — on the statistics.

On average 40 people die as a consequence of ecstasy every year; a low estimate would suggest that 1m tablets are consumed every week. An estimated 100 people die as a consequence of horse-riding every year; a very high estimate, based on government figures, suggests that there are about 600,000 horse rides every week. So horse-riding is easily the more dangerous leisure option. But, of course, this comparison produced apoplexy in the right-wing press. One particularly idiotic columnist in the Daily Mail, dismissing the statistics with an airy wave of the hand, remarked that nonetheless horse-riding was not “inherently” dangerous. I think she meant that people who ride horses tend to speak nicely and have labradors. I can’t think what else she meant by “inherently”. Incidentally, taking ecstasy while riding a horse is exponentially more dangerous, not least for the horse.

Nutt also pointed out the simple fact that cannabis is less dangerous than tobacco or alcohol, pretty much regardless of the strength of the dope; nobody disputes this, and nobody disputed it three years ago when Nutt first made the comparison. But at that point the government was busy trying to push through its bill to ban the smoking of tobacco in public places and what is now an unfortunate truth was then a useful propaganda tool.

I have my own prejudices: I don’t like illegal drugs and, except for my friend mentioned above, I don’t like druggies. I have a particular dislike for the drug of my own milieu, cocaine. I often wonder to what extent the jabbering, self-obsessed, narcissistic bilge you read in your daily newspapers is a consequence of several grams of Bolivian marching powder rammed up the left nostril, and how much because the writers are simply chemically unenhanced jabbering, self-obsessed narcissists: a bit of both, I would guess.

But advisers should advise, surely, and be especially commended for doing so when their advice runs counter to public opinion and gets up the nose, to use an inapt metaphor, of critics. We have a serious drug problem and the sacking of Nutt suggests that there is not the remotest political will to address it.

As someone who yearns to live a green, ethical life, I wish these climate-change experts would agree upon a common strategy. Last week we were told to help the environment by eating dogs, but I scarcely had time to sauté a spaniel before Lord Stern announced that we should give up meat altogether.

That’s all very well — but I have three dalmatians and a golden retriever in the freezer, so what am I meant to do? I’m not even sure what bin to put them in. They’ll probably end up as landfill, and that’s not going to help anyone, is it? Lord Stern thinks meat is bad because the animals we eat tend to be extremely flatulent. Well, sure, but has he been out for a curry with John Prescott? One rogan josh and that’s both icecaps gone. The cows, by comparison, are nowt.

Meanwhile, the climate-change lobby has been urged to be a little less sensationalist (“Eat dogs or all the polar bears will die!”) in its apocalyptic warnings, so as to get the message across a little better. And what is the message? Another report, from last week: global temperatures have been dropping since 1998 and are expected to do so for quite a bit yet. Hold the fricassee of poodle for a while, then, and hold the mung-bean risotto.

Antifreeze – cool for cats

Never do anyone a favour — it will surely be misunderstood. With the nights drawing in and the weather turning much colder, Katherine Hall came up with the thoughtful notion that maybe her neighbour’s two cats would appreciate some antifreeze. So she mixed it up with tinned tuna and left it by the hedge. The cats — Mr Baz and Nush, who were both abyssinians and therefore almost certainly asylum seekers — sadly died as a consequence. Bizarrely, Mrs Hall was fined £1,500 rather than given the freedom of her borough, despite the fact that the cats were in her garden doing their usual stuff of defecating on the lawn and urinating on her strawberries. When will cat owners take responsibility for their foul and destructive pets?

Goblins get evil eye from the Pope

I expected something different from the Pope this year. Having offered the hand of friendship to disillusioned Anglican worshippers, I thought he might have used the Vatican’s traditional Hallowe’en address to welcome into the fold assorted were-folk, faeries, daemons and banshees. But no, it’s the usual guff about children entering a world of darkness by dressing up as witches, etc.

In fact, this year the Vatican seems to have really got it in for goblins, who are singled out for particular papal venom. This seems a little harsh; goblins, with their colourful clothing, sallow demeanour, right-wing politics and perpetual anger at being mistaken for trolls, can be taxing company, it’s true. But they are also famously opposed to all forms of contraception, especially prophylactics, and would undoubtedly agree with the Pope that the only way to stop the spread of Aids in Africa is to prevent black people from having sexual intercourse.

Perhaps the Pope is not aware of this; either way, I fear he has missed a trick and a treat this Hallowe’en. Perhaps he might reconsider his policy for Walpurgisnacht.

Armed robbers — thinking of knocking off a post office in the Birmingham area? Choose one close to a copse and you should be okay. The West Midlands police have been issued with guidelines that warn them about the dangers posed by wet leaves on the ground. Source of many accidents, leaves — the rozzers are advised to proceed with caution. They have also been advised about ice, which, the health and safety boys allege, can be even more slippery than leaves. Although not if it’s in a drink, obviously.

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