I WAS surprised to learn that almost half of adults have the mathematical ability of an 11-year-old. Most of the adults I know aren’t that advanced.

My skills are more in line with those of a six-year-old. I couldn’t even begin to help an older pupil with their sums.

Do I mind? Shouldn’t I be a tiny bit ashamed to admit to this? Not at all. In a weird way I’m quite proud. I’d hate to stand up and tell the world if my literacy skills were poor, but I wear the fact that I’m bad at maths like a badge of honour.

Most people don’t mind having poor numeracy skills. Only 56 per cent of us would feel ashamed to say they’re bad at maths, according to a report carried out for the charity National Numeracy.

Why is this? Could it be that fiddling about with numbers simply isn’t interesting? I can’t believe that anyone – even those who are really superb at maths – actually find the subject of interest.

My 15-year-old daughter is good at maths, and is even opting to study it at A-level, but admits she doesn’t find it interesting.

Her reason for carrying on with it is because she needs it to pursue her chosen career, although when I met her maths teacher – a good-looking, amiable Irishman with an accent to die for – I wondered whether he had a hand in it.

I didn’t have a maths teacher under 50. They were all stern, balding, humourless men who didn’t appreciate the efforts I took in making a catapult from my compass that fired chewed up balls of paper across the room.

My theory is that, with enough tuition, other subjects can be mastered, but with maths you either get it or you don’t. I remember reading about a study which concluded that people are either born with a mathematical brain or not. Mine certainly is not.

When faced with a sea of numbers, my brain shuts down. As a teenager, even one-to-one lessons at home with a top maths student didn’t help my case. Now I’m over 50 and still count on my fingers.

Numeracy is, says the report, more important to future careers than literacy. Of course it is. If everyone was like me, we’d still be running around in loin cloths (although if you go out in York city centre on a Friday night some people still are). If you want to earn big bucks, you need maths.

This week I am attending a special maths session at my daughter’s school to see how I could help her in the future. I just hope they have an abacus handy.