When the Conservative Party finally gets round to holding a leadership contest, and I am duly elected the 56th prime minister of this country, I shall make it my priority to tackle a problem that has plagued Britain for decades. In my lifetime it has caused millions of people untold misery – yet successive governments have done nothing to address it. So, on the day I enter Downing Street, I intend to bring this long national nightmare decisively to an end.

Because, at very long last, I’m going to ban supermarkets from switching their shelves around.

No doubt my political opponents will argue that I should be focusing on affairs of slightly greater urgency – for example, our imminent annihilation in a continent-wide nuclear inferno – but, even at times of geopolitical strife, a prime minister must never lose sight of key domestic issues. And so, assuming that any of us are still alive by the time I take office, the above is a matter that I am determined to confront.

Because, let’s be frank, it’s terribly annoying. You nip down to the supermarket nice and early, aiming to get your shopping done before the crowds arrive, only to find that, without warning, the staff have switched half the aisles around. You’ve no idea where they’ve hidden the eggs, the crisps are where the magazines used to be and you’ve got as much chance of finding the pickled cornichons as you have of tracking down Lord Lucan.

My local Tesco rearranged everything the other week and now I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. I’m utterly lost. I feel as if I’ve been airdropped into Hampton Court Maze, or the rainforests of Borneo.

Why supermarkets insist on making loyal customers suffer like this, I’ll never know. In theory, it’s supposed to make us stumble across products we hadn’t noticed before. But it just makes me want to give up in annoyance and have my groceries home-delivered instead.

Then again, there is a downside to home deliveries: they’re so brisk and perfunctory. They lack the human touch. And, for many shoppers, the human touch is important. Which brings me to an idea that may make shopping even more bearable.

Carrefour, a chain of supermarkets in France, has introduced what it calls “blablabla caisses” – in English, “chit-chat checkouts”. Shoppers are actively encouraged to take their time and have a friendly chat with the cashier. Carrefour’s bosses hope that this will help to alleviate loneliness, particularly those who are elderly or live alone.

A cashier at one branch said: “It’s a very good idea for people who are on their own. They need to talk and they need human contact. It’s important for them. And since I’m talkative, it suits me. We take our time and we chat about everything.”

I hope British supermarkets follow suit, because I think it sounds a lovely idea. Obviously they should still keep plenty of normal checkouts as well, for the sake of irritable, impatient people like me who think we’re far too busy and important to stop for a conversation with a stranger. When I’m older, though, it’s possible that I’ll become less pompous and aloof, and start to appreciate interaction with strangers a little more.

It’s not an easy thing to admit, especially if you’ve got no one to admit it to, but a lot of older people these days suffer horribly from loneliness. It was, of course, at its worst during the days of lockdown and shielding – but for many, the pain has barely eased since. According to a review by 10 leading charities, a million over-65s in the UK are likely to remain at risk of chronic loneliness despite the easing of Covid restrictions.

Chit-chat checkouts won’t magically solve that. But they would at least make the world seem a warmer, friendlier place. In the cold and closed-off society we inhabit today, many people scarcely ever talk to their neighbours – indeed, they may not even know their neighbours’ names. And in towns and cities, hardly anyone smiles and says hello in the street. Interaction with strangers is now reserved almost exclusively for social media. Which is all very well, if you’re on social media. But it means the offline feel increasingly shut out.

So let’s follow the French. In the meantime, I’ll start drawing up my historic bill to ban the rearranging of supermarket aisles. In future, Tesco won’t be allowed to budge a single baked bean. The location of the eggs will be protected by law. The dairy aisle will be a conservation area and the cereals will be Grade II listed.