I’ve often wondered what influences people’s ideas on beauty. Is it culture? Education? Upbringing? Travel? Exposure to certain things over others? Or is it something more innate? Something beyond our understanding?

Living in a country where the aesthetic ideal seems to be so different from my own, I ask myself this question almost daily. As soon as I leave the house, my eyes are assaulted by hundreds of different things that I simply can’t understand how others would find remotely pleasing.

It’s not just the architecture of many new buildings that is incomprehensible to me or the Holocaust Memorial-like village squares that we keep proposing, although, in both instances, there seems to be a distinct lack of character and soul in their design. No, the grey bleakness is everywhere and continues to pave the way for more “innovative, modern ideas” for people to milk more money out of the shrivelled, dry, hanging teat that is the Maltese pocket.

Take the ubiquitous use of tables and chairs by restaurants and cafes all over the island, for example. You can no longer walk through a village or city centre without finding it swimming in plastic. In the immortal words of Ms Cutajar, “Kulħadd jitħanżer”, however, I would also like to add that not only does everyone pig out but our authorities seem to have no problem with letting it happen. And if we are going to wait for the man in the street to choose an aesthetic conscience over a fatter bank account, I think we can all expect to be sorely disappointed.

But, yes, back to the tables and chairs, which have become more common than trees or unbroken pavements. I still remember when there was an uproar when an establishment in Sliema built a platform in the road and put tables and chairs on it. Incidents like that are now commonplace.

If we are going to wait for the man in the street to choose an aesthetic conscience over a fatter bank account, I think we can all expect to be sorely disappointed

You can barely pass through St Georges Square, in Victoria anymore without hitting a chair, and if you have a wedding or a funeral at the church, you almost have to push people out of the way to pay your respects. Valletta, too, has become claustrophobic and,yet hardly anyone, bar a handful, protests.

That’s why I was surprised when there was a commotion about the Paola parish adding a cafeteria to the church roof. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I disagree with it, and God knows that entire square has become grotesque enough without yet another place to dine at; but it makes you wonder what the issue is for so many when they very obviously don’t seem to mind dining in car parks or the rest of the ugliness that makes up the greater part of the country.

I don’t see many complaining about that or the hundreds of sun beds that take up public space every summer, so I’m just going to have to assume that it’s the usual bunch of people who have a bone to pick with the Church.

I know people are exhausted by this country; I, for one, often wonder where I still find the strength to gripe but selective condemnation really doesn’t look good on anyone and comes across as hypocritical and bigoted.

Some things are relative but the common good really isn’t one of them.