IN the Merchant City at three o'clock in the morning I am regularly woken as if by an alarm with what sounds like a cat being tortured.

It is a noise, like the squeaking of chalk on a blackboard or the drone of Nigel Farage's voice, that cannot be ignored and that turns one from a normal, temperate, charitable human into a writer of apoplectic, green-inked letters to newspaper editors. The clubs have closed and their clientele are making their way home. This is not something they do silently, like monks gathering for Matins. Rather it is another opportunity to bid each other a fond and never short farewell; or to engage in verbal fisticuffs. So loudly do these late-night revellers converse that I have long suspected they must be hearing impaired.

I thought of them when I learned in The Herald of the decision by Glasgow City Council and Police Scotland to revoke The Arches nightclub's licence that allowed it to stay open until long after midnight. This has been met by the culturati with the kind of horror associated with the destruction of ancient temples by Islamic State. Tens of thousands of people have signed an online petition. Playwrights, actors and musicians have registered their dismay, and bloggers have leapt into print with the abandon of lemmings falling over a cliff. Indeed, one hyperventilating fellow was afforded space on a national newspaper's website to opine that The Arches is "the Hampden of nightclubs", "an icon of national significance" , and "the only regular platform [for what?] in the country which comes from a queer perspective".

Let us for a moment take a deep breath and consider what has actually happened and what its implications are. The Arches, based in Argyle Street near Central Station, functions dually as a nightclub and a theatre venue. The former, it would appear, generates profits which help subsidize the latter. Most vocal are those who fear that if The Arches does not stay open as a club when witches and ghouls are about then it will no longer be viable as a performance space. For its part, Police Scotland insists that it is a magnet for drug users and pushers and that its closure is essential if any kind of grip is to be got of the situation.

As one of life's pacifiers I have sympathy for both points of view. I have, for example, great respect for those at the theatrical coal face. Of all the arts, it is surely the one that most needs nurturing. How those involved in it make a living I know not. What I do know is that their dedication is awe-inspiring and gratifying. To be engaged in the stage is not a profession or a career but a vocation. Few involved earn above the minimum wage and, for every Gregor Fisher and Elaine C Smith, there is a bit player starving in a draughty garret in Partick. What Scottish theatre needs are many more places like The Arches where new plays can be performed and emerging and venerable talent may be sustained. As it is, whole weeks can pass when the stage in Scotland goes dark and the only curtains that fall are in our living rooms.

However, it is a symptom of theatre's parlous state that so much has become invested in The Arches. The irony is that the model on which its future depends is at the root of its present problems. No one who knows Glasgow can be in any doubt that drugs and the addiction they promote is a contagion that does not appear to be abating. Where I live I often see young men, their eyes as blank as canvases, their gait that of headless chickens, making their way from the city centre to the east end and beyond. Some are so far gone they barely try to hide the fact that they're giving themselves a fix. In the basement outside our building there is an area which they used to frequent and which the residents had to cover with a metal grill to prevent trespass.

In this, Glasgow has history. I am working on a book which purports to tell the city's story through eye witnesses, many of whom were visitors. A common thread is emerging. As far back as the 17th century, Glasgow was known for the drunkenness and licentiousness of its inhabitants. The nearer we get to the present, this increases and few are the day trippers who do not remark on behaviour influenced by drugs or drink. On one level, it is amusing. On another it is far from it. That's what The Arches is a victim of, not over-zealous police or killjoy councillors.