Blimey. The Government has announced a nationwide network of hydrogen refuelling stations for lorries, to be built by 2026. Or, as they call it in Whitehall, the 'Hydrogen Highway.' Because nothing says 'green revolution' like a load of massive trucks farting out water vapour instead of diesel fumes. I can almost hear the gin distilleries of the world weeping into their copper vats.

Let us examine this glittering promise. The Department for Transport, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that the future of haulage is not electric, not gas, not even pedal-powered rickshaws piloted by government ministers in lycra. No. It is hydrogen. The most abundant element in the universe, which also has a nasty habit of being rather expensive and difficult to store. But why let thermodynamics spoil a good press release?

The plan is to have between 25 and 35 refuelling stations by 2026, conveniently placed along major truck routes. This, we are told, will convince hauliers to replace their fleets of roaring, clattering, beautifully carcinogenic diesel lorries with sleek, silent, watery-wallowing hydrogen-powered beasts. I wonder how many hauliers actually attended the meeting where this was decided. My guess is zero. My guess is they were too busy trying to figure out how to pay for the new Euro 7 emissions standard on their existing lorries.

Meanwhile, the Government assures us that this will create jobs, reduce carbon emissions, and save the planet. The usual incantations. What they fail to mention is that hydrogen is currently produced mainly from natural gas, a process that emits carbon dioxide. So we are essentially swapping one fossil fuel for another, but with extra steps and a shiny new infrastructure. It is like throwing out your gin and tonic and replacing it with a gin and soda, claiming you have solved alcoholism.

But let us not be completely cynical. There is a certain poetic beauty in picture hundreds of lorries queuing up at hydrogen pumps, their drivers sipping takeaway coffee and staring at the slowly climbing percentage on the dispenser. A scene of quiet desperation. And the lorries themselves, no longer belching black smoke, but exhaling a gentle cloud of water vapour. It is almost biblical. A great flood, but of our own making.

I propose a toast to the Hydrogen Highway. May your pipes never leak, may your production be truly green, and may the Treasury not find a way to tax the water vapour. But I shall be watching from my customary bar stool, gin in hand, ready to write the inevitable obituary of yet another well-intentioned, hopelessly underfunded, and technologically challenging Government scheme. The only thing truly clean about this is the fiction behind the press release.