TARTAN cards on the table; while the emotional heart embraces the ideal of a commando-under-the-kilt-free, airy approach to Scotland’s relationship with England, the cool head rejects the notion because the numbers don’t appear to stack up.

That’s not the reason however for supporting Neil Oliver, the TV historian and archaeologist with the Connolly lilt and Tarzan hair who this week has had a rope placed around his neck and slung over the great trolling oak tree of judgement.

Since being appointed president of the National Trust for Scotland, Oliver has been targeted for massive online abuse - “divisive bigot”, “Scotland hater” - with demands coming from Nats he should swing, in terms of being removed from the charity position.

However, claims that the historian’s preference for Scotland’s political union with those south of Gretna somehow denies his Scottishness is absurd. How can his advocating the status quo suggest he is less likely to fight for the preservation of Scotland’s treasures? It’s like saying Britishness negates a liking for Oor Wullie, porridge or the upcoming series of Still Game, that support for the Act of Union curtails laughing at Kevin Bridges, or harbouring a secret hope Susan Calman will win Strictly.

If we consider a wider picture, does being part of the European Union mean one is less likely to be entranced while driving past Eilean Donan Castle, gasp as they arrive in Glenshee, or delight in the soon-to-be-reborn art deco pavilion at Rothesay?

Not a chance. Loving Scotland’s treasures and having an anti-separatist preference are not mutually exclusive. Yet, the comments about Oliver are another sign the angry voice is becoming louder.

There are reasons for it of course; politics has become intensely polarised; the soft middle ground of Blair and Cameron has subsided and in its place Corbyn and May have built new platforms on the edge. We are becoming more frustrated with those we entrust with the future.

We are confused, and living in a divided world. We can have same day delivery from Amazon, but hate the company’s tax position. We love the fact Ryanair will fly us to Gerona for £3.50 but abhor Michael O’ Leary’s imperiousness. We love to watch Kirsty and Phil find a lovely 600k flat in Bristol for a nice couple yet know others will save for 120 years before they can afford a starter home deposit.

But complaining with the extreme, all-too-fast voice has become all too easy. Once, the requirement to find paper and pen, buy a stamp and make the trip to the post office gave the rankled the opportunity to consider implication. Now, the Ipad allows for invective and insult to hit cyberspace before consequence is considered.

That’s not to say Neil Oliver hasn’t played a part in seeing the hanging mob reaching for the thick rope. He once described Alex Salmond as a ‘big, round, wrecking ball of a man, shaped only to do damage’, which was perhaps a little overly personal, and to describe the second indie ref as a ‘cancerous presence’ was not best judged comment to make.

It’s certainly a positive reflection on society we’re becoming politicised again, the Che Guevara posters are being Blu-tacked, figuratively, to bedroom walls. We’re raging against violent injustices, food banks and screaming financial disparities. But with the rage has come a rampant intolerance, an unwillingness to take a broad view.

A couple of weeks ago, I was labelled a racist on social media after suggesting on this page the frustration of historical inaccuracies in new stagings of period plays such as 1948 written A Streetcar Named Desire, with actors of colour now playing roles created by Tennessee Williams as Caucasian. The troll seemed not to appreciate, or acknowledge, that interracial marriages in the Deep South were illegal until 1967. And if I had a screaming loud voice I could suggest the theatre company to be guilty of ignoring the brave battles for racial equality fought throughout American history.

Next week at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow, Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov explores the notion of control and rule in Russia approaching the new century. In the story, the errant father throws out the argument to his sons that if god doesn’t exist then everything is permitted; ie, uninhibited freedom results in chaos.

The discussion bleeds into the paradox of freedom, which we need to debate right now. We have to re-open Plato’s argument that we should claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant.

So let’s think before reviling. Does it really matter if Susan Calman dances with a man on Strictly? Did the Jewish nursery teacher need to be sacked, as she claims, because she wasn’t yet married?

Let’s take a moment before placing the rope around necks. Any 50 year-old with shoulder-length locks has to be seen as bold and adventurous, ready to push Scotland – The Tourist Destination - forward, exactly what the National Trust need right now.