what’s the best present you received this year?

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This week I shall mainly be looking a gift horse in the mouth. A few weeks ago a little envelope dropped on to my doormat bearing undoubtedly the best gift of the year — although I ought, in the name of honesty and self-preservation, add that my wife bought me some especially nice prints by an artist I like and an Adirondack rocking chair for the patio.

And yet, magnificent as they were, the present from the Mayor of London was even better. My over-60s Oyster card, giving me free travel on all London Transport and National Rail services in London. (For those unfamiliar with UK transport concessions, while the rest of England offers free bus passes and rail concessions to pensioners, the capital has made this available at 60).

There is not a lot I like about turning 60, but this has almost made the slow march to decrepitude worthwhile. I am pathetically pleased by it and receive a little frisson of pleasure every time I use it. How many other aspects of your commute can you say that about? Not that I felt any happier last Tuesday when the Tube line I was no longer funding abruptly cancelled all services at great inconvenience to non-paying passengers.

Once the weather improves, I shall certainly be looking for other exciting opportunities to use it. Perhaps I shall get the bus to the next suburb, rather than e-biking or walking there. Perhaps I will plan excursions to Hampton Court, Chessington or Ebbsfleet.

So yes, I have been unaccountably delighted by this, to the point of boring anyone who offers even the flimsiest excuse to discuss it. And since, dear reader, I’ve almost exhausted that cohort, you’re next. My delight was doubtless heightened by the three months the website was down due to a hacking incident which delayed the arrival of my little plastic pal. But now it is in my wallet and will, I estimate, save me around £100 or £130 a month, since my work hours often allow me to commute off‑peak. And all thanks to my friendly neighbourhood mayor.

And this brings me to the gift horse (although, strictly speaking, it is not a gift as I help pay for it). For the fact is that while I am absurdly and disproportionately delighted by this freebie, I also know that it is preposterous that London’s taxpayers are spending millions on people like me who patently do not need it. And I know I do not need it because, until the week before it arrived, I was coping perfectly well without it.

So I am both delighted by this benefit and appalled by its wastefulness, although obviously not so appalled as to take the principled stand by refusing to apply for one. After all, thousands of other undeserving commuters are getting this deal every year, so why should I miss out simply because of an excess of integrity?

There are good arguments for giving this perk to pensioners who are living on a fixed income. There are also all sorts of criticisms of means-testing, some valid, some less so, and it is true that, unless the cut-off point is so high as to make little difference, there will always be some hard cases who fall just the wrong side of the line.

But this is so blatantly unnecessary, such an utter bung, that it is truly hard to see why some form of income qualification should not apply. I would not wish to deny this travel card to those who will truly benefit from the saving. But the money spent on people like me could be better deployed. Perhaps there’s a halfway house where the better off have to pay something towards the card, or receive a smaller discount.

Supporters of universal benefits — and there are many in the Labour party especially — argue that it breeds a sense of community. To which I say, well that’s fine if you are living in a 1970s petrostate. But I am neither a pensioner nor on a fixed or low income, and we are living in a country that cannot afford decent social care, adequate prisons, sufficient police officers or numerous other essentials.

So look, if you are comfortably off, live in London and the calendar rolls round to the big 60, I urge you to show more integrity than me. Be the better person, the man I’m not, and stand up against wasteful state expenditure. You don’t need that little moment of pleasure with every trip; you don’t need a free trip to Hampton Court. I shall salute your rectitude. But maybe don’t mention my name to the mayor.

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