TYRANTS have been toppled, the euro is in trouble and MPs are revolting, but the big news is that Yorkshire folk are facing a threat to their long-held liberties. Or possibly not.

The story, in brief, which has made not only our national newspapers but also media outlets as far away as India, is that a district judge in Barnsley has banned those coming before his court from addressing female staff members as “love”.

He says they should show respect to court employees and instead call them “ma’am”, a form of address I thought was reserved for the Queen these days. But this has upset champions of Yorkshireness, who say the judge’s strictures are an assault upon the county’s cherished modes of speech.

I think two things. One is that those who try to promote Yorkshire for its wonderful landscapes, great culture, entertainment and fine food must despair when they see a story like this, guaranteed to reinforce the county’s flat cap (or maybe baseball cap?), whippet and fish’n’chips image.

Second, it strikes me there’s a possibly a double dollop of pomposity here. Upholders of the justice system often put a bit too much emphasis on their own dignity, and while I can’t say for sure that’s true in this case, having never attended court in Barnsley, the “love ban” does seem just a wee bit over the top.

But isn’t it also a bit much to claim calling someone “love” is some sort of inalienable White Rose right? It’s not even a uniform habit across the county, being much more prevalent in some parts than others, whatever your socioeconomic class; for example, not too far from Barnsley the correct form is not “love” but “duck”.

And if Messrs Winner and Cameron calling women “dear” is almost universally seen as condescending, isn’t that also potentially true where “love” is concerned?

In my younger reporting days I encountered a slightly different problem with addressing people in court; in this case a very broad Yorkshire bloke who insisted in calling all fellow men “bud”.

Trouble was, his brief court appearance was in front of the chairman of the bench, who also had fairly strong views on proper behaviour in court, so the clerk tried to get “bud man” on his way before he could open his mouth.

But the chairman called “bud man” back to gravely explain the concept of bail to him. He listened gratefully before saying “thanks bud” and walking off. You could hear a pin drop as the chairman turned a very deep purple then, as the door shut behind the defendant, the explosion came – of barely suppressed laughter.

Everyone joined the chairman’s merriment; rather unfortunately, they were still in stitches throughout the whole of the next case, including the sentencing, to the horrified bewilderment of the offender.

A different bench later acquitted “bud man”, though on totally different grounds than the ones he put forward in his own defence.

Nothing much pompous there, but who is to say justice wasn’t done?

• IT WAS nearly very humble pie for me after telling anyone who would listen there was very little chance the French would cause New Zealand a national nervous breakdown in the Rugby World Cup final. In the end it was close, but the All Blacks spared my blushes.

Still, on this evidence I was wrong to call the Welsh the best European team in the tournament, since I doubt very much they would have held the Kiwis to a single point.

Salut to les Bleus for making the final a much better game than most people expected.

But given their form throughout the tournament, surely few could deny that justice was done when New Zealanders celebrated their team’s triumph.