SHORTLY after Donald Trump’s election victory, the American sketch show Saturday Night Live (SNL) ran a skit about a domed community it called “the Bubble”. Inside the Bubble the “unthinkable”, such as Mr Trump’s win, did not happen. Here was a “safe space” for “like-minded free thinkers, and no-one else”. Progressive politics could walk the streets with its head and principles held high, never meeting a frowning soul with a contrary view.

Judging from the shots of handsome brownstones and chi-chi cafes, the SNL writers had New York in mind but many a resident of this fictional bubble might well feel equally at home in John Street, Glasgow G1, home to the University of Strathclyde Students’ Association (USSA).

The USSA made The Herald this week after our education correspondent, Andrew Denholm, revealed details of a row involving students against abortion and the association. The anti-abortion students wanted to form an official group affiliated to the USSA. Thus constituted, they could secure funding for events, attend conferences and obtain the other benefits enjoyed by affiliated groups. In this case, the USSA said no. Why? Because the views of the anti-abortion group were entirely at odds with those of the association.

You might think: fair enough. The USSA is not telling the anti-abortion students they are barred from holding their beliefs or speaking about them; just that they cannot do so and enjoy the benefits of being an official group. To the students affected, however, this was a violation of their right to free speech under the European Convention of Human Rights. Discuss.

Discussions of this type, usually studded with phrases such as “no platforming” and “safe spaces”, are not unusual on American campuses and they have been occurring with increasing regularity here. It is the policy of the National Union of Students not to grant a platform to anyone holding racist or fascist views, while across the UK it is left to student associations to decide whom they invite to speak.

One of those affected by the no platforming movement has been the feminist writer Julie Bindel. She told a BBC Victoria Derbyshire programme on the subject: “Thirteen years ago I wrote an article which some transgender activists took offence at. Since then it’s been like an anti-feminist witch-hunt against me. I am no platformed by a couple of committees within the NUS and I’m constantly described as being like Hitler. It’s deeply offensive but we don’t have the right not to be offended.” Others who have spoken out against no platforming include Germaine Greer and Peter Tatchell. There is a horrible irony here in individuals such as these, who have been criticised (and worse) by the Right for their views, now finding themselves accused by the Left. Who is right in such cases? Should a university be a place where you really ought to have a right not to be offended?

The answer to the latter has to be no. One can understand those who want institutions of learning to be places where young people do not have to run the gamut of grisly “isms” their predecessors encountered. Sexism and racism should have no place in any institution, full stop. But looking at the Strathclyde example, and others, one cannot help but feel the desire to elevate debate to a certain level is leading to no debate at all; that students are becoming afraid or unwilling to engage with ideas different to those they hold. Talk to the hand, or argue to no avail with the “no platform” policy, because these faces ain’t listening.

The no platforming trend at universities is part of the booming business of taking offence. One does not have to go to university to be offended; you can sit in front of the TV, laptop open to social media, and be outraged every five seconds if you so wish. You can be offended anywhere: on a bus or at the football, while reading a newspaper, even around the family dinner table, where an epidemic of offensiveness will break out around December 25 when distant relatives are hurled together and any number of topics (a second independence vote; Mr Trump; Brexit; take your pick) could see things kicking off.

No one wants to go back to those good-old, bad-old days when people had to bite their lip and swallow their hurt when offence was caused. Equally, do we really want a future where we stop listening to views not the same as our own? While that might be a cosy place to dwell initially, a sort of gated community for liberal views, it would not stay that way for long.

If this year of political upheaval has shown us anything, it is surely that. You can unplug the microphones of those with whom you disagree. You can withdraw their invitations to speak. You can write any number of protest tweets, sign petition after petition. But the other side does not go away simply because you take those actions. If anything, it becomes heartened and emboldened.

There has been a grim comedy to be had this year from watching well-meaning liberals standing round, wringing hands and rending garments over what has come to pass. Brexit? Woe is us. Mr Trump? A calamity. Rise of the far right? Tragic.

Who could have seen any of this coming, we ask, never for a moment wondering what part staying schtum played in failing to stop these events. We did not want to hear such views. We did not want to engage them on equal terms. Therefore we ignored them, kept things civilised, talked among ourselves. See how that turned out.

One of the most worrying aspects of the no platforming trend is the assumption that arguments no longer need to take place because the “right” side has already won. That is clearly not the case. A university should be a place where the argument muscles receive a vigorous workout. If nothing else, it prepares a student for that grotty place known as the “real world”.

Out here, there are not too many safe spaces. Battles will still need to be fought, with colleagues, employers, acquaintances, strangers, so you might as well get used to doing it properly. Learn the p’s and q’s of disagreement so you can mind them later.

A healthy verbal rammy is good for the body politic and the soul. Ignorance thrives in the shadows; it is encouraged by silence and, what do you know, challenging it can pay off. Once you are done watching the SNL skit on YouTube, you might like to take another look at what happened in 2009 when the BBC’s Question Time defied critics and gave a platform (though it was not called as such then) to the BNP’s Nick Griffin.

The audience could have boycotted the show. The other panel members might have refused to turn up. But they didn’t and watching the demolition of the BNP’s man was as a powerful an argument against no platforming as you are likely to see. Enjoy the free speech show.