So seamlessly has the world’s supply chain served Britain in recent decades that the politicians and the public have had little real reason to notice it. Until the last year or so, that is. Londoners, for so long used to getting whatever they want whenever they want it, frequently from abundantly stocked 24/7 convenience stores less than a minute’s walk from their front door, have been forced to confront sudden unavailability of sugar snap peas airlifted hot foot from Kenya. The horror, the horror.

Yet media reports — not to mention photos of empty shelves frequently posted on Twitter — suggest that things are somewhat worse outside the pampered capital. Big retailers fear that the annual conspicuous consumption bacchanal that ostensibly marks the birth of Christ will this year be marred for children by shortages of toys, and for adults by shortages of alcohol. Supermarket chain Asda has even chartered a Chinese general cargo ship as a surrogate Santa Claus. The combatively named Huanghai Struggler (IMO: 9695224) is due to berth at Teesport later this month, laden with 350 boxes that will ensure their customers do not go without.

Dare we suggest that these are first-world problems? Nobody is going to go without food, and regrettably, Brussels sprouts will somehow find a way through. If some children do not get their first choice of pressie on Christmas morning, there’s always next year. In the current climate, partisan opinion is inevitably divided on responsibility for this state of affairs; Remainers are apt to blame Brexit, Leavers point to more generalized glitches manifest elsewhere in the world, not least because of coronavirus.

Against that backdrop, members of parliament on the House of Commons Select Committee on international trade held a hearing this week on UK supply chain resilience. Lloyd’s List is hopefully not being too immodest when it presents itself as an important voice for the maritime industries, and we were especially pleased that MPs took evidence from our redoubtable markets editor Michelle Wiese Bockmann.

Another witness was UK Major Ports Group chief executive Tim Morris who had some home truths for the assembled parliamentarians. “It’s not a crisis,” he told them, “But it’s uncomfortable.” While container terminals usually operate at between 70% and 80% of capacity, some have more recently been running at 95% full. That has inevitably slowed things up but hasn’t brought them to a halt. This is not to say that there are not real impacts on port productivity, on storage of containers in port, on the return of empty containers, on road haulage and rail schedules. But as Michelle pointed out with her customary concision, containership operators are making so much money right now that they do not seem to mind too much.

Older British readers may remember the national dock strikes of decades gone by, which as recently as 1966 and 1970 were sufficient to force the government to declare a state of emergency and call in the armed forces to work the waterfront. There is simply no comparison between then and now.

Sixty-somethings may also recall one of the most famous front pages in newspaper history. In January 1979, the tabloid Sun carried a headline mischievously misquoting the Labour prime minister of the day on his return to a strike-torn and wintry nation after attendance at a four-day conference in Guadeloupe. Jim Callaghan never did quite utter the words, “Crisis? What crisis?” Yet the catchphrase stands as an apt rejoinder to anyone who is arguing that there is a supply chain crisis now. It’s not a crisis, it’s just uncomfortable.