CHRISTMAS present for a relative or a pal? How about a Police Scotland sweatshirt? Or a hoodie that simply says POLIS? Or even a soft sofa cushion onto which has been lasered a polisperson’s face?

I know what you’re thinking; whatever sense you’d assumed I possessed I’ve now most certainly shaken hands with and waved goodbye to forever. For who in their right mind would think there is money to be made in selling law and order image rights?

Well, here’s the thing; the Metropolitan Police Service is about to brand its MPS logo on “clothing, cuddly toys, stationary, homeware, souvenirs and games”. Really. The plan is the money raised will help support frontline officers, in a bid to counter the impact of years of austerity.

And when you think about it, it’s not the daftest idea. After all, the NYPD’s merchandising and licensing of mugs, baseball caps and hoodies brought in more than half a million dollars in the past year, promoted by the likes of Paris Hilton wearing a skimpy NYPD pink vest.

But this throws up a Friday night eight-lagers-and-a-lamb-bhuna sized question; if this can work for the Met, who’ve signed a contract with the brand specialists behind the Tate Gallery, why wouldn’t it work in Scotland? Why are we so unlikely to safety pin together the mittens that are our personal relationship with our uniformed protectors – and a possible commercial marketing proposition?

Why do we know implicitly there is more chance of Balamory’s PC Plum and Miss Hoolie being found in a police station cupboard committing unspeakable acts?

For one thing, we haven’t developed a cosy image via television. Watch English-made TV and you’ll meet more policemen than the Krays. But we Scots haven’t enjoyed a Dixon of Dock Green geniality or Z Cars caring. We haven’t had the silly cops (Morse, Lewis, Blue Murder) the social psychology cops (Cracker, Prime Suspect) the flawed cops (Good Cop) and the comedy cops (No Offence).

For viewers in Scotland we’ve had the miserable, unrelenting Taggart, the even more dour Rebus (Ken Stott’s acting was no stretch) and although we loved Hamish Macbeth, thanks to Bobby Carlyle, his druggie character wouldn’t help sell t-shirts to schoolkids. (Yes, we’ve got comedy Scot Squad, but it sells a plod image – not what the Met are planning to punt to tourists.)

There could be other reasons why we don’t have an Oor Wullie/PC Murdoch relationship with our protectors. The West of Scotland hasn’t connected with its lawmen since the Thirties when Chief Constable Sir Percy Sillitoe recruited hoards of big Highlanders to round up and give the Glasgow razor gangs a severe talking to. (Indeed the talking was so effective most of the gang leaders were hospitalised). This was a commendable strategy (harsh times call for harsh measures) but this powerful alien swarm arrival informed a separation between police and public.

Over the years, the divide has widened. The police have all too often been seen as State-sponsored crushers of trade unionism, the heavy-handed oppressors of free speech in areas such as Faslane.

Yes, the success of the Violence Reduction Unit has seen Scotland lose its description of The Assault Capital of the World (UN Report, 2015). But we still can’t open news pages without reading the latest details of drug rival murders. If Police Scotland marketed their own board game it could well be called “Where Were The Cops At The Time?” The public perception is that the police simply keep the scores.

Of course, it’s hard to be objective when personal history bleeds into the debate. And “bleeds” is used aptly. Flashback to 1972 and a three-day stint in the jail. Why? A 16 year-old long-haired schoolboy is at the edge of a fairground, looking down on a raging battle between Skinheads and Hell’s Angels. (A great essay subject for English homework). Half an hour later, he has a 14-stitches-required gash on his skull) as a result of an over-zealous truncheon. And he is being charged with Assaulting A Police Officer (with a huge brick, which was later produced in court.)

Three months later it’s the judge who’s in stitches when the arresting officer claims this puny schoolboy had hurled the boulder five yards in his direction. The policeman’s reputation was trashed in court, but the real damage was done; the police hadn’t played fair.

Yes, the police were fantastic the time they were called to a serious car crash and my mother was injured. But sadly, Police Scotland’s image hasn’t been great. Any benefits of centralisation seem lost in the 60pt headlines citing bullying, incompetency or heavy-handedness, exemplified in the treatment of football fans.

That’s why it may be hard to sell Police Scotland’s image rights. (Aside from the fact they don’t have helmets to boast of.) And if it comes down to modelling vests, forget Paris Hilton. The vest will have to be string and the model Rab C. Nesbitt, because at the moment there are a few too many holes in the marketing argument.