IF nothing else, Donald Trump's explanation why Scots opted not to back independence confirmed his reputation as one of the most egoistic men on the planet.

Interviewed a day after the referendum, the blowhard billionaire said that, had Alex Salmond not "littered" the country with "horrible wind turbines", he might have achieved his objective. As it was, "There's much anger [in Scotland] over this subject."

Though it saddens me to break the habit of a lifetime, I cannot help but agree with the almighty Trump. Wherever I have visited this past year, I have come to the conclusion that, on the matter of wind farms, ours is nation decisively divided.

There are those, for example, who are eager to say "yes" to wind farms, and do not mind them in their backyard, especially if they can expect to make a few bob from them. You may call them greedy; I cannot possibly comment. Then there are others who look upon them as they do, say, a manure factory. To them, they are an assault on the senses and an affront to the nation that insists on calling itself "bonnie". Scotland, they insist, needs more of them as Kate Moss does an outbreak of acne.

The latest "farm" to cause upset, which was discussed yesterday at Holyrood, is between Loch Rannoch and Loch Ericht. If the plans are accepted there will be 24 turbines, each rising to 410ft. That's more than 10 times the height of a double-decker bus. Not surprisingly, this has irked various organisations, including the Mountaineering Council of Scotland and the John Muir Trust, both of which say it would have a catastrophic effect on the landscape.

They have been joined by the American author Diana Gabaldon, whose hugely popular Outlander novels have been filmed in Perthshire. "Light bulbs need energy," Gabaldon told this newspaper, "human souls need wildness and beauty." Were there to be a referendum on the issue, it would be interesting to see where people's sympathies lie. What would you rather have: light or beauty?

It is, of course, an iniquitous question because it ought to be possible to have both. That's the situation at present. But, increasingly, those in favour of wind farms argue that some beauty must be sacrificed for us to illuminate the gloom. That they are winning is apparent to all. From the Lammermuirs to Shetland, they sprout like pylons, taming wildness and transforming once breathtaking, natural vistas into industrial sites of stunning ugliness.

Thus, little by little, Scotland's countryside is being transformed. As someone who used to romp over empty hills like a kilted Jacobite pursued by a swarm of midges, I find this hard to accept. In the past, terrible sores have been planted on the land by owners only interested in increasing their own wealth. But these were isolated and often hidden excrescences. Wind farms are different. You can see them from afar. The one between Loch Rannoch and Loch Ericht will be visible from miles around, despoiling views of and from more than 30 Munros and Corbetts.

The cumulative effect is painful and disturbing. They do not blend sympathetically into the scenery but bludgeon and besmirch it. Whenever I spy one on a Borders hill, my response is to avert my gaze. Many sensitive folk feel similarly but opposing those who wish to foist such carbuncles on us is expensive, time-consuming and emotionally enervating.

Recently, after more than a two-year battle, permission was granted for the building of 103 gigantic turbines on a Shetland peat bog. Though there were initially more than 2,700 objections, the Government gave the project a green light. Some 800 protesters raised £130,000 to contest the development and have pledged to take their case to the Supreme Court in London. That will mean yet more money and time.

What's more, there are grounds to believe that the economic benefit of the scheme is pie in the sky. Indeed, not far from where the turbines will rise like one of Trump's vainglorious towers, is Sullom Voe oil terminal, which daily processes enough oil to keep Shetland's lights blazing far into the future. But the issue here, as at Rannoch, is not one of sustainability, it's profit, for the sake of which who cares if a priceless view is ruined.