In an age of lightning communications, snap judgments and instant responses, there is something quaintly reassuring in the knowledge that there are some cul-de-sacs so far removed from the information superhighway's fast lanes that you can still get away with having the reaction times of a root vegetable.

Sadly, however, one of those enclaves of inertia can now be found at Murrayfield, home of the Scottish Rugby Union, whose residents displayed the speed off the mark of a family of arthritic slugs in their failure to anticipate the furore that erupted last week over the selection of Steven Shingler for Scotland's Six Nations squad.

How else could you explain the absence of any reference to Shingler's previous involvement with the Wales Under-20 side when the player was named by Andy Robinson? Given that the Welsh are convinced that Shingler is their player, the one certainty in the whole messy business was that a row would soon erupt, but the stushie that inevitably ensued seemed to catch the SRU on the hop.

The rights and wrongs of the affair are due to be debated by the International Rugby Board. As that organisation tend to be no more fleet-footed in their deliberations than their counterparts in Edinburgh, Shingler's chances of making his Scotland debut against England next month are receding fast, but it is already clear that the SRU have missed a golden opportunity to drive the debate forward on their terms.

Instead, by sweeping Shingler's past under the carpet, they gave the distinct impression that they knew there was something to hide. The 20-year-old's arrival in the squad was trumpeted with the news that he had a host of relations in Langholm and he enjoyed his annual trip to the town's Common Riding festival; the fact he had played umpteen times for the Wales Under-20 team merited not one mention.

Within a few minutes of last week's announcement I had received the first of three phone calls that alerted me to the notorious S4C advert in which Shingler pulls on the Wales No 10 shirt worn by such Welsh luminaries as Cliff Morgan, Barry John and Phil Bennett. All good knockabout stuff, but within a couple of hours the phone was buzzing with news of a more serious twist to the tale – namely that the Welsh Rugby Union were preparing a statement claiming Shingler was eligible to play only for them.

Whatever happened to the old rugby principle of getting your retaliation in first? Far from leading the debate, the SRU were bouncing off the ropes, obliged to put out a hasty statement explaining that Shingler had refused to sign a WRU document that would commit him to Wales for all time. It was a complete red herring. Shingler's binding commitment would be established by participation in certain games, not his signature.

The saddest part of all this is that the Scottish governing body have also passed over the chance to win an important moral argument that has become lost in the regulatory fudge. The question that the whole sport should be asking is not whether Shingler should be able to play for Scotland, but whether Wales should be allowed to designate an age-grade team as their "next senior" side for the purposes of establishing sole Test eligibility.

Wales – and a few other countries – are effectively putting young players into limbo this way, tying them up for all time. Realistically, Shingler had little hope of breaking into the Wales team, but he could now be bound to a country that doesn't want him. Had the SRU taken the initiative they could have set the moral agenda. It's not just the Scotland team who don't take their chances.