Daughter is going on a mega school trip to Tanzania next summer. It’s costing an arm and a leg, and she has to do some of her own fundraising. She’s already coined in several hundred pounds through a long-distance sponsored swim, and we have plans to tackle a car boot sale this summer - it’s fun gathering stuff to sell, but the reality of hawking it to voracious hordes is less appealing. That’s a different column altogether.

Her teachers mentioned a website called easyfundraising, which enables people to make contributions through their regular purchases – for example, the weekly food shop. One participant had already raised £500, apparently by doing nothing other than signing up.

It took me a while to get on board with this. Just setting up the page was a nightmare, as it flatly refused to accept any photograph of Daughter in any given format. Eventually, I succeeded and plugged it on social media for friends and family to join in, albeit unsure of a) how to make it sound like a sexy proposition and b) how it even worked.

When I finally learned how to maximise the scheme myself, I was somewhat disappointed to discover it relied heavily on shopping online. Seems obvious? Not to this Luddite.

I do very little shopping via the web, for lots of reasons. The most important is that I spend so much time sitting on my derriere in my home office that my regular trips to Tesco represent my sad little foray into the big wide world (well, Truro). I’ve met some of my best mates in the yoghurt aisle, and seen their eyes glaze over as I chatter on sociably as if we’re sitting down the pub over a couple of pints.

I also like to browse, try stuff on, make sure I buy the right thing - not unlike my father-in-law (FIL), who likes to squeeze every melon in the store in order to choose the very best.

FIL takes great pleasure in his Saturday morning trip to Tesco, spending a good hour moving methodically down his list - he’s usually in thrall to the chocolate aisle by the time I catch up with him. This simple action gives him routine, purpose and exercise, all of which are currently crucial to him at 90 years old. He won’t get any of those things by shopping online.

He also gets a bit of a social bonus when paying at the till – which in turn keeps someone in a job. Have you noticed how supermarkets are markedly reducing the number of tills in favour of yet more self-service checkouts (I confess I use these when my basket is half-full)?

Because that’s what the Luddites were fighting, guys – not technology per se, but the prospect of it taking over all the jobs that put food on the table and give our lives some semblance of meaning. They knew that if one loom could do the work of 10 men, those men wouldn’t be able to pay the rent or feed their families.

There’s lots of talk around AI in this regard, but it’s arguably been going on for years, with the push towards online banking (for example) leading to sterile branches (if not closure).

FIL recently visited his high street bank, having received a letter about his account. In time-honoured fashion, he wanted to make an appointment to see the manager, who was sitting a stone’s throw away. But no - this had to be done online.

The Other Half (OH) later moaned it had taken him half an hour to do what a human being should have done in two minutes; and when they rocked up, it turned out the supposedly infallible computer had booked them (and others) in for the following week, so the manager had to override it anyway.

There’s this common misconception that life is better, quicker, more efficient online. I’m not so sure. It takes me ages to book the three of us in for a swimming session, one by one, logging in and out of the app; and until recently, Daughter’s school sent all communications via an app with no search or delete functions, resulting in something resembling the email inbox of your worst nightmares.

Last month, Transport Secretary Heidi Alexander confirmed Government plans to fast-track self-driving commercial pilots on England’s roads to spring 2026. These, she claimed, “can help reduce deaths and injuries - unlike human drivers, AVs can never get distracted or tired and they won't drink-drive or speed.”

This spells doom for taxi and bus drivers, and eventually anyone who enjoys driving. I’m all for delegating onerous tasks to others, or even AI, but let’s not forget what life is all about.

PS. I finally bit the bullet and ordered a £120 lawnmower which earned Daughter’s Tanzania cause 90p. At least we’re off the starting blocks.