I was very nearly sick on David Cameron once. He was visiting York and I was dispatched to interview him. But the Tory leader had been delayed en route so, seeking to recoup the lost time, he asked to do the interview as we walked.

My voice said no problem, but my body disagreed.

The previous evening I’d had a few too many beers at a friend’s house and as I strolled around the community bike park in Earswick, I got queasier and queasier and queasier.

My old cuttings tell me that Cameron spoke about joyriding, Iran and NHS job losses, but I remember at the time being mightily distracted by the small band playing drum and bass in my skull and by the trapeze artists hurtling around in my stomach.

I don’t think my bosses knew about this until now and looking back, I’m not sure what they’d have deemed the bigger offence – failing to land the scoop or desecrating a future world leader. Suffice to say the whole episode wasn’t my proudest moment.

As it was, it was luck rather than judgment that got me out of the pickle and ensured that my credibility and the future PM’s suit survived the day intact.

Just as my wooziness was reaching critical levels, his PR entourage whisked him away to shake some local hands and I was able to recuperate with a much-needed glass of water, safe in the relief that Cameron never suspected a thing.

Or did he?

A horrible thought flitted through my mind last week that perhaps, just perhaps, one of his cronies had been wise to my excesses. And maybe, just maybe, it was partly to blame for the preposterous licensing policies his Government has just unleashed.

For what’s the alternative? That they genuinely think this half-baked set of proposals is sensible? Surely not?

The so-called “rebalancing” of the Licensing Act, which went out to consultation last week, is nothing of the sort. It is a renewed attack on an already wounded industry which has been targeted by successive governments as an easy scapegoat.

Even before one gets to the introduction to the document, the Government’s skewed stance is evident. Where on the Home Office website is the consultation? In a section headed “crime”, alongside legislation on dealing with football hooligans and registered paedophiles.

Since when was the mundane matter of licensing hours a crime issue? What hope is there for responsible landlords when the Government’s default position is that they are all criminals in waiting?

The proposals then go on to deliver a barrage of blows to the pub industry.

Pubs that are open late could be forced to pay an arbitrary levy; police and councils will no longer need to prove the assertions on which they base licensing decisions; people could be given a new right of objection, citing the vague and fuzzy grounds of public health; and, most bizarrely and undemocratically of all, residents who don’t even live near the premises in question will be able to object along with immediate neighbours.

What it all adds up to is a charter for nimbys, numpties, killjoys and busybodies.

Yes, Britain has a problem with binge drinking, but we should be sceptical of hyperbole, especially from a newly-elected Government keen to make its mark.

The Government’s own figures show that booze-related crime has actually fallen in the past five years, not – as Home Secretary Theresa May erroneously claimed last week – risen.

The drinking troubles that do exist in Britain stem from widespread social disharmony, the failure of public health drives, the long-running failure to educate young people about sensible alcohol consumption, and the availability of cheap booze in supermarkets – one of the few things the Government is correctly acting on.

What the problems cannot be traced to are the individual licensees struggling against the odds to make a living while still reeling from the smoking ban, the recession and exorbitant increases in rent, rates and beer duty.

Blaming pubs for binge drinking ultimately makes no more sense than blaming high street chemists for the country’s drug problems.