In the wake of the Paris murders, one does not need to believe in any god to recognise that killings in the name of religion are acts of terror, with no spiritual validity whatsoever.

Since Muhammad emphatically forbade revenge, what the Kouachi brothers and their accomplices did was anti-Islamic, in every sense.

Even so, in the aftermath of the tragedy it has become apparent how distressing the depiction of Muhammad is to many Muslims. Showing images of the prophet, said one, is more painful for them than insulting their family: "It causes us great hurt, but people do not seem to understand this."

The events of the past few days have starkly, and urgently, raised the question of respect versus the right to freedom of speech. How far, people wonder, is it acceptable to push the boundaries of taste and liberty if in so doing we distress others?

As with any boundary, of course, the line is elastic. It is a hallowed principle in the West that so long as one keeps within the law, one can say or write anything with impunity. Listeners and readers may not like it, but to erode that principle for fear of bruising someone's sensibilities is as disrespectful to that ideal as to those who do not wish to have their cherished beliefs derided or questioned.

Freedom of speech in this country is considered so important, it is almost treated as a holy tenet ­- properly so, in my view. Indeed, to threaten this credo is as serious an infringement of rights to its upholders as blasphemy is to the devout. And yet in our own lives, in day-to-day contact with colleagues, strangers, or family, we generally practise an extraordinary degree of self-censorship, or what my grandmother would have called 'holding your tongue'. This healthy process of editing is exercised in all areas of life, from saying nothing about a friend's terrible choice of husband, to not arguing with a relative who believes in garden fairies.

The majority of the population, in the majority of situations, goes out of its way to avoid serious confrontation or offence, particularly when it comes to religion. Who among us would dangle a rasher of bacon over a Jewish friend's plate, or serve a blue steak to a Hindu? But respect for an individual's convictions should not deter anyone from challenging or denouncing or ridiculing an institution or a government or a creed.

With the exception of those in public office, individuals ought to be accorded respect. That does not, however, confer protection on the body general, if one can call it that, of which they might be a part. This is where artists, writers, and media commentators play a crucial role. In flouting the rules and etiquette most of us abide by they dare to voice criticisms or anxieties, thereby acting as a lightening rod for disaffection and fear.

Not only is there a place for being off-taking and offensive, but it is an essential component of a civilised society. Those of us who are occasionally outraged might not always find it comfortable, but nobody is entitled to having their feelings wrapped in cotton wool at all times.

It is many years since I was a church-goer, but I still flinch at jokes about the crucifixion. Yet rather than wanting any film, play, book or cartoon that disturbs me banned, I prefer to exercise my right not to watch or read it. Those who live in the irreligious, sacrilegious and satirical west, with the benefit of its politically-correct standards and laws, need to grow a thicker skin and accept that when something is published or said that they find unacceptable, they are not being persecuted. As was the case with Charlie Hebdo, one week it will be Muslims in the firing line, the next the Catholic church, or a prime minister.

The freedom to offend has long been recognised as an important leveller and safety valve. The medieval day of misrule, when children could dress as bishops and order the clergy around, and the lord of the manor dressed in sackcloth and served his peasants their dinner, was anarchic, earthy and unsettling. The strange thing, though, is that by allowing public questioning or mockery of anything and everything, we create a more tolerant world, a place where respect comes naturally, rather than at the point of a gun.