THANK you for your statement in the Scottish Parliament, finally setting a date for the independence referendum.

We have been wondering for a while now. Indeed, it has been such a long wait that John Swinney had a fringe when it began.

But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am part of the 11% of undecideds identified in last month's Ipsos MORI poll on independence. The 11% are those who, when asked "Should Scotland be an independent country?", answer with that traditional Scottish expression of uncertainty: "Em..." You've heard of the in-crowd. We're the em-crowd.

There have been occasions, most recently after the "EU legal advice that never was" scandal, when I left the em-crowd and pitched a tent in the no camp (5%), all the while looking for an unusual place to plant a flag.

In the interests of full disclosure, it should be noted that I am also a member of that sex which greets the idea of independence with crossed arms and gently-raised eyebrows. In that particular form of aerobics, women (61%) are joined by the affluent (65%) and those 55 and over (61%).

What a blizzard of figures, when really it comes down to just one number – five. From Beveridge's five giants to Gordon Brown's five euro tests, it seems a handy sort of figure: not enough to be overwhelming, just enough to focus minds. As I am sure you will agree, the independence debate requires focus the way George Osborne needs to find £1 trillion down the back of the sofa.

Which brings us to the first test of independence: affordability. The 11% were perhaps not as rattled as your good self when that less-than-optimistic economic forecast by Mr Swinney, the Finance Secretary, was leaked. Rather, it confirmed a view already held: that oil revenues were never going to be a bottomless well of gold. Given the make-up of the country, it was a safe bet that revenues would fall while demand for benefits and services would increase. Add to this the cost of setting up new government departments and systems and it was clear that pips were going to squeak. The question is, whose pips and by how much?

As you will have noted from the Budget on Wednesday, the economic forecast for the UK as a whole would be enough to put the laughing policeman on Prozac. The same day, the independent Office for Budget Responsibility published a report which challenged your promise of a "second oil boom". You say between £48 billion-£57 billion of revenue could be generated from oil by 2017-18; the OBR says £33 billion. That is rather a large, inky hole to fill.

The second test is credibility. Your mantra that the best people to make decisions about Scotland's future are the people who live here is an attractive notion, particularly to those of us who recall successive Tory governments at Westminster paying more attention to Ulan Bator than to Scotland. Yet in practice, one wonders how impressive this governance would be. Your own style of government can best be described as dull and managerial rather than inspiring.

When a hot potato comes along – press freedom for example – it is thrown towards the great and the good, as happened with the Expert Group on the Leveson Report in Scotland, chaired by Lord McCluskey. Its gift to the nation was a set of proposals that would have left North Korea's Kim Jong-un salivating. It did not deal with the possibility of a Royal Charter being proposed by Westminster, despite the prospect of this being reported last December. A less charitable person would think your "expert" group on the press did not read the newspapers they would like to shackle.

Home-grown decisions are all very well, but many of us, in the 11% and wider, do not regard our home as ending at the Scottish Border. Besides relatives and friends living outside Scotland, many of us have worked and lived elsewhere. As the Olympics showed, regarding oneself as Scottish and British, Scottish and Anything, is perfectly possible. Your own Government is not averse to English allegiances when it suits – an independent Scotland, for example, will keep the pound, the Queen, and Bank of England control. Yet again, one is left wondering why we should bother taking a risk with independence when more devolution, more imaginatively exercised, could serve us just as well.

Mention of the big wide world out there brings us to the fourth test. We could argue all day whether it is better in an ever-more integrated planet to be lion or mouse: to be part of a large pack that makes its presence known, or to be quiet and agile, forging alliances as and when necessary. When it comes to the EU, however, clear answers are required now. Can we carry on being members of the club with the same advantages we have as present, or will we have to join the queue behind Iceland and Macedonia and take what we are given? Latvia, which will have the Council of Europe presidency come 2015, has offered to open discussions. If talks do not take place soon it will begin to look as though you regard ignorance as convenient bliss.

The final test is a tricky one. This is where matters become personal, I'm afraid. In Scotland, mercifully, we have a proud tradition of not doing personal with our politicians. Just as the Tony Blair government did not "do" God (except when it came to invading another country), so we do not warm to the huggy-muggy, touchy-feely style of political coverage that asks you to share with us the contents of your fridge and your psyche. For all that, and for all that you seem to have been around for what seems like most of our lives, how many Scots can say they know you well enough? Know you to the extent of being able to take the kind of leap of faith so necessary to winning any vote on independence? We would buy a second-hand car from you, but a new country? That's a big ask. The biggest of our lifetimes.

Five tests it is then, answers to be received in good time before September 18, 2014. We look forward to hearing from you soon.