Would you feel the status of your borough were diminished if your mayor arrived at an event in a Vauxhall Corsa?

That’s the argument reportedly put forward by Dudley Borough councillor Adam Aston, who is opposing the decision to sell off its official mayoral car and accompanying attendant – a move that will save it £60,000 a year.

Local paper Dudley News has reported that the council has to save rather more than that. Millions, in fact, if it’s to avoid declaring itself effectively bankrupt, like Birmingham City Council recently did.

And if this results in Dudley’s mayor, currently Hilary Bills (who declined to comment), having to take herself to appointments, so be it.

This does inevitably mean there will be less pomp to accompany a Dudley mayoral arrival in the future, perhaps as the mayor parks around the corner and trudges down a multi-storey’s stairwell, patting their pockets to be sure they’ve remembered their keys and those gold chains (which, also as part of the savings drive, may actually be replicas), rather than being dropped off kerbside in a nice car.

I get that this could be less optimal. Probably less convenient too. But while I’m usually contented to see a little bit of public money spent on ceremonial nonsense (it’s one of the things the world likes about Britain, after all), I find it hard to objectively fault the council’s decision on this.

In the three years up to 2022, Dudley Council spent £30,168 running a mayoral Jaguar XF – more than most boroughs but by no means the highest.

Plenty of councils reported having Jaguar XJs, Volvo S80s, Skoda Superbs and the like (even a Volkswagen Phaeton) permanently on their books, with leasing or purchase costs of up to £10,000 a year.

If you haven’t got any money but the bins need emptying and the elderly need looking after, what are you going to do: cancel after-school clubs to make it harder for parents to go to work or flog the mayoral Lexus?

Sure, it would be nice to have both, wouldn’t it? Lots of support for those who need it, plus a bit of ceremonial extravagance on the side, as you would think would be possible in the world’s fifth-richest country.

But apparently there’s no money, as councils all over the country have spent all that they have, plus some more that they haven’t, some of which has gone on prestige cars. Realising that isn’t an outstanding look, plenty have already decided to put a stop on it.

I’m normally very wary about how life gradually becomes more beige, more joyless, but even I can see how ‘occasional Corsa’ looks better than ‘permanent Jaguar’.

But if arriving in a hired Corsa really is too mediocre a look for a mayor, I think I’ve got an answer that might keep happy both pomp enthusiasts and those desperate to watch over every bean a council spends: keeping or hiring a classic car.

It’s still prestigious, entirely inoffensive and a sure way to spread joy, yet cheaper than spending five figures a year on leasing or buying a new car.

I’m on the telly

A new documentary has been made about the Hillman Imp by a friend of Autocar’s, Paul Coulter, an Imp owner and enthusiast who wants to tell more about the story of this 1960s economy saloon and, as importantly, the Linwood plant where it was made.

Coulter interviews people who worked at the plant, both from management and the shop floor, to try to find out the real story behind why it all went wrong.

He chats to me in it too, as well as Autocar’s picture editor and car designer, Ben Summerell-Youde, who imagines what an Imp would look like if it were designed today.

Linwood, the Imp and Me is available to view on STV Player now.