Did you know that a ‘symposium’ was a convivial shin-dig of drinking, music and intellectual discussion among the Ancient Greeks? Of course you did. Most of you will use the word on a weekly basis when you host your lavish, Plato-themed toga parties on a Friday night.

Of course, such boisterous revelry and slurping, slootering indulgence may be on the back burner at this time of the season as you embark on a dry, dieting, disciplined January that will cleanse the clogged up pistons that operate the body and tighten up the various cranks and pulleys that keep the mind ticking over.

Well, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. The reality tends to be slightly different as you topple off the over-crowded wagon with the kind of thudding plunge that would’ve made the plummet of Icarus look like a shimmering example of a controlled landing. It’s back to the togas and the symposiums. Which is maybe what the powers that be in golf are pondering just now?

Just over a year ago, the top brass at the Royal & Ancient held their own ‘Time for Golf’ sympo-whits-its-name in St Andrews as they discussed at great length the various issues and potential solutions to golf’s pace of play problem. There were, unfortunately, no togas – this correspondent turned up in one and was swiftly ushered off the premises – but there were plenty of presentations at lecterns, graphs, charts and tables that were pointed at and pored over and elaborate formulas and calculations involving speed, distance and time that you’d tend to see scribbled on the toilet door at the Institute of Mathematics. The end result was a pace of play manual that was sent out to all and sundry with various tips, pointers and tit-bits on how to get the game moving. Perhaps Jason Day didn’t get his copy? His remarks ahead of the Tournament of Champions last week about his own funereal approach to the game were not greeted with glee from those keen to crack the whip. “Everyone wants to speed up the game,” he said. “I don’t care so much about speeding up my game. I’ve got to get back to what makes me good. If that means I have to back off five times, then I’m going to back off five times before I have to hit the shot.”

Talk about a snooze-fest. There is the suggestion that in the cut-throat world of golf in the very highest echelon, where prize funds are colossal, the margins are fine, the pressures are huge and the course set-ups are mind-mangling, Day can approach the game in the calculated, precise way he sees fit. On the other hand, you could take a swing at the Australian for his shrugging sense of selfishness and entitlement.

There is much to admire about the current world No 1. Day is superb player and an engaging, honest and open character but the prolonged palaver of the pre-shot routine, which can resemble the complex courting rituals of the Great Crested Grebe, often leaves you grinding your teeth with impatience when you should be admiring his prowess, his power and his magnificent short game. There is, unfortunately, a tarnishing of something which should be cherished. In a competitive sporting market place that demands fast-paced action and instant gratification, showpiece golf occasions can become major turn-offs.

The problem, of course, is that those charged with policing golf have allowed the plook of slow play to fester due to a distinct lack of decisive acts. There has always been talk and bold posturings but not a lot of genuine action. It’s hardly a new gripe. Even Jack Nicklaus was seen as a bit of a slow coach back in the 1960s. Not every player can dart around in the kind of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it style of the great Bobby Jones, whose address-to-impact time averaged three seconds, but every year folk groan and grouse about how long golf takes and every year nothing really gets done. The R&A, the European Tour and the Ladies European Tour have all at least shown willing to take steps but the powerful PGA Tour continues to turn a largely blind eye to the issue.

"The only thing slower than slow play is getting someone to do something about it," said Lanny Wadkins back in 1992. Three years after Wadkins suggested that, the PGA Tour did hand out a penalty shot to Glen Day (no relation) for dilly-dallying at an event in 1995. They haven’t issued another one in the 22 years since that.

In the vast bible of golfing dos and don’ts, Rule 6-7, which directs competitors to "play without undue delay”, seems to be just about unenforceable. We could be in for another long, long season.