Andrew Pring asks for a penny for your thoughts

In a week when the Government announces its new alcohol strategy, it seems strangely perverse to write about public access to pub toilets.

But for two reasons, that's the issue chosen.

The first is that this column - though not the front page - goes to press before the Government's announcement.

So judgement must be suspended, and fingers held tightly crossed behind our backs for a positive, non-penal outcome.

The second is that the issue is genuinely important - and may actually offer a way for the trade to strengthen its often troubled relations with local communities.

For those not following the debate, pubs have been under pressure from some local authorities to allow any passing member of the public to pop in to use the facilities, regardless of whether they're a customer or not.

It's led to howls of outrage from many licensees, who feel it's - how shall we put this delicately - taking the mickey.

That's perfectly understandable. The pub is a business, not a public toilet. And most licensees give very short shrift to anyone they spot sneaking in to relieve themselves without having the decency to ask first, or buy a token drink by way of thanks.

But it's a sad and shameful fact of life these days that public toilets are an endangered species. Many towns have flogged off the urinals to developers. The loos that remain are too often an affront to local society. Little wonder that pubs are seeing more and more use by passers-by.

One solution is offered by the British Toilet Association. It suggests councils offer rate relief to pubs that allow public access to their loos.

On that basis, many pubs might feel it's a good idea. Of course, it depends on how much rate relief - it would have to be quite substantial (think how much money councils would be saving - they can afford to be generous). And the insurance and health-and-safety implications would have to be thought through so no licensee loses out.

But as a way to demonstrate the central community role played by a pub, this one has merit.

No doubt many smiled wryly last week that Nottingham is the burglary capital of Britain. Yes, the place where the chief constable spends all his force's time focused on the local pubs, with a media train in tow. Until they get back to what they're paid to do, it's open-house time for Nottingham's villains.