Chewing gum is the supreme symbol of consumerism. In itself, it is more or less worthless. By the use of enticing packaging and lively advertising, however, it has been elevated into something highly desirable. It creates profit with every chomp, from the throwaway wrapper to the last, desultory spit. And, wherever it is consumed, it leaves a trail of trash and filth, adding about £150 million per year to the cost of cleaning the streets of Britain.

Treading carefully, attempting not to stick to the pavement, one develops a conviction that there must surely be more to life than this. It is evidence that the consequences of materialism are literally too unpalatable to swallow. Were I not already persuaded of the existence of a God, I would invent one, in the desperate hope that humankind can aspire to something better.

And yet a multi-million pound war to win the biggest stake in this market is under way. Wrigley’s, the owner of Spearmint, the brand that has dominated the UK market for many years, was bought last month for £11.5 billion by the confectionery giant Mars. It was a direct response to the purchase by Cadbury, five years ago, of the US business, Adams, whose Trident products have recently been launched in Britain. Sales of gum are increasing at three times the rate of chocolate. Battle is engaged. It can only get dirty.