The church has become home to the flower-arranging few. The local high street is losing its appeal. But the disappearance of the British pub feels like it represents something more profound about the ebbing away of community. Hence it is good news that after a decade of decline the number of pubs is rising. The reason that one in four of them had gone since 2008 is down perhaps in part to social conditions. Drink driving is not just unlawful but culturally unacceptable. Smoking is banned. A younger generation of drinkers has different tastes and different lifestyles: why go out when you have Netflix and a fridge full of hand-picked beers? More and more young adults are teetotallers.

There is also less money about, and the pub’s image was perhaps not helped by Nigel Farage’s obvious joy at being inside one. While there are now fewer pubs than a decade ago, they are better run – offering higher-quality food served from bigger kitchens. Revenue per venue increased by 13% between 2008 and 2016. Our immoderation has probably also helped: drinkers in the UK get drunk more than those in any other nation in the world, though not necessarily in pubs.

While getting the finances sorted is important, it is the fact that they are the beating heart of many places that makes them stand out. Little wonder that community groups have sprung up to rescue local watering holes. In Scotland there are women-only clubs to provide a “safe space” to discover the world of craft beer. The inn, tavern and public house represent a solid link to the past in a world that appears indifferent to tradition. History was made in them. Karl Marx is said to have downed beer at the Flask in north London. In central London, the Crown and Anchor on the Strand was a regular haunt for political radicals in the 18th century.

Pubs mirror the society they exist in. Shakespeare had the Boar’s Head, a rough dive frequented by Falstaff and his gang of reprobates in Henry IV. David Copperfield ordered a glass of “the Genuine Stunning ale” in what Dickens’ illustrator Phiz portrayed as a middle-class emporium, complete with a splendid gasolier. The bucolic image often painted is one of a drinkery amid an idyll of cricketers on a village green. Perhaps it is disconcerting to note that today’s most famous pub is the Queen Vic in EastEnders, one of Britain’s most popular TV soaps, and the scene of extramarital affairs and murder.

Britons cling to their pubs because they have been engraved on to their hearts. Hilaire Belloc remarked that “when you have lost your inns drown your empty selves, for you will have lost the last of England”. They represent to us what cafes are to the French: a way of seeing ourselves and our condition. It was painful to see a British institution sadly and slowly disappearing, and that trend risked losing an important part of our culture. With more pubs opening, Britain feels like we can overcome the social isolation and cultural confusion of the age. We ought to raise a glass to good news in these dark times.