ONLY in the "best wee country in the world" would the decision to televise court proceedings be left to a single judge - the Lord President of the Court of Session ("Leading judge backs filming for court cases", The Herald, January 29).

Other countries would leave that decision to their duly elected representatives but not here. Here, a judge decided what we should be allowed to see when proceedings are televised.

For centuries, the legal fraternity has cultivated the perception that Scotland's legal system is the envy of the world. Televising court proceedings will test and may well destroy that exercise in advanced mythology.

Mesmerised viewers are likely to witness, on a daily basis, the ultimate deployment of spontaneous ineptitude and pulsating pomposity as coteries of our legal profession compete for the attention of the cameras.

Listen carefully and you will hear the English language being put through the grinding mill of QC speak: "I put it to you that on the evening of September 10, 2009, you did indeed, with much malice aforethought, unlawfully pick up a recycled but clearly abandoned brick. With reprehensible and deadly cunning, you concealed the brick (forensically identified as a British production) in the hood of your recently stolen outer garment. Then, in the spooky shadows of an ominously quiet city street, you carefully retrieved the native brick, weaponised it and carefully deployed it, with even more malice aforethought, to brutally rearrange the countenance of your totally innocent victim. What say you to that most serious charge?"

"Ah didny dae it. That's whut ah say."

After a few weeks of similar metaphysical exchanges, a distressed legal fraternity, now soaked in ridicule, will petition the Lord President to use his authority to banish forever any item that could accurately record the essence of court proceedings in Scotland. The petition, supported by the Lord President's extensive collection of televised proceedings to date, is likely to succeed.

And so it came to pass that justice, Scottish style, ceased to be seen to be done.

Thomas Crooks,

81 Dundas Street, Edinburgh.