There are honours, and there are honours. The decision to make Gordon Reid a Freeman of Argyll is no more than imaginative recognition for a young citizen who has brought his home territory the best kind of publicity.

Given the sudden deterioration in his mobility he could have retreated into self pity. Instead he used his love of sport to propel himself up the world rankings culminating in that terrific win at Wimbledon a few weeks ago. With luck and skill he may repeat that feat at the upcoming Paralympics.

Creating freemen and women is a useful and uncontentious way to acknowledge the contribution individuals make even if, in the quaint nature of such awards, many recipients in larger cities have found to their astonishment and mild alarm that they are now entitled to raise a small army or propel livestock through the main thoroughfare.

I doubt Mr Reid has any such ambitions.

Compare and contrast the baubles and privileges conferred on the former Prime Minister’s staffers, none of whom have done anything more remarkable than turn up in the morning to their paid employment and executed their contractual duties.

It’s an extension of the nonsense which sees long serving MP’s and civil servants being rewarded with knighthoods and other gongs carefully calibrated to recognise to which departmental caste they belonged.

The worst of these excesses is the stuffing of the House of Lords with superannuated politicians and party donors. Getting a peerage for pouring hundreds of thousands into party coffers is tantamount to selling what ought to be a reward for a lifetime’s public service given to people whose knowledge base will enhance and expand that of the chamber they’re joining.

Instead the upper house, now bursting at the seams with 200 more members than the elected Commons, has lost any pretence of being a collection of uniquely talented and experienced people who can bring their wisdom to bear on the scrutiny of legislation. You wouldn’t let some of the recent arrivals loose on your shopping list.

Some peers didn’t so much as open their mouths in any debates over the whole period of the last parliament. Some turned up to collect their £300 a day allowance and never went near the chamber, using the house as a rather fine office, social and dining facility.

Subsidised by us, by the way, while we pay for their travel, admin, and sundry electronic devices.

Meanwhile, further down the food chain, people of genuine merit are forced to share honours lists with others not fit to shine their shoes when awards, still ludicrously bearing the title British Empire, are handed out to the frankly unworthy as well as the genuine contributors.

Mr Cameron’s final two fingered flourish makes it clearer than ever that we need a thorough re-think of the ways in which we honour our best and brightest.