PUT it this way, you wouldn't like it if someone called you unbalanced.

You might take it as an insult.

Balance is, in some mysterious way that you'll have to work out for yourselves, the key to life. The entire universe is in balance. According to top Taoists, we need to balance our ying and yang, to keep opposing forces interplaying equably. I've never understood how that works with good and evil but, hey, let's not nitpick over minor matters.

You can become physically – as much as mentally – unbalanced, not just in the sense of toppling over, but in your everyday posture, so that you trap energies on your left or right side, or have things up when they should be doon. Most of us manage to stay upright but, often, it's all doonhill from there.

Balance is a supposed shibboleth of the broadcast media but, in practice, it's difficult to maintain. The BBC is, by and large, pretty good at it. But it – along with other channels – has been accused of skullduggery when it comes to debates about independence, where the format has been to have three or four Unionists against one normal person.

This is because they've selected both panel members and audience on the basis of party affiliation and, since most parties in Scotland are evil, there occurs an imbalance in the Tao. Campaigners say the debate organisers must think there are puddles behind our earlobes, and predict that the chicanery will only cease when citizens protest. We'll see.

Balancing the books is another important aspiration. This refers not to the acrobatic skills of librarians shifting tilting piles of tomes but to bringing your credit and debit sides into line. I've never been good at that, but then neither have Britain and America. And some say, on balance, they are heading doonhill.