I had been reading about artificial intelligence (AI), and the effects it will have on entry-level employment roles. I was formulating thoughts to spin into a column – something about how AI might liberate our creative capacities by hoovering up remedial grunt work. That might be true. But then after a weekend at Glastonbury festival, and in the languid heat of early July I realised, however true it might be, that it was boring. And my mind drifted elsewhere, onto more urgent matters.

Noble Rot, the quarterly magazine of a restaurant group that goes by the same name, published a special feature on lunch this week. In it, seasoned long-lunchers make the case for the pursuit, and they vaunt the romance of a meal with friends or colleagues that starts at 1pm and slowly, soporifically eases into the evening, aided by wine (as expensive as you can afford, they conclude), and unconcerned about looming professional commitments.

Oisín Rogers – progenitor of the best Guinness in London, landlord of the Devonshire – contributes: “Get up early, do........

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