My goodness Donald Trump seems hellbent on upending the world order. In just a few weeks he’s rattled long-standing Nato alliances, slapped tariffs everywhere – even an island inhabited only by penguins – and a global recession looms as markets nosedive. However, a quieter catastrophe from across the pond caught my eye as libraries were told that previously approved grants were cancelled.

All employees of the Institute of Museum and Library Services were put on immediate administrative leave, effectively skinning and gutting institutions nationwide. It’s not much better here. Around 40 libraries a year close due to cuts, proving just how vulnerable these “use them or lose them” hubs are.

As a child, I spent many a Saturday afternoon at the local library with my family, and forged a fascination with the librarian’s scan-and-stamp routine. I even played “librarian” at home – piling up books, “scanning” them with a Biro and using an eraser as a stamp. Hours of fun, but I wasn’t considered a cool kid at school!

I hadn’t been back there for decades until a foolhardy plunge into a master’s degree forced me back. It is a Brutalist monstrosity, like a concrete triple-decker sandwich plonked in the high street and on weekends I’m there often, working on my dissertation.

Or at least, trying to. Or at the very least, I get a smidge more done there than at home where the moment I sit down to study, I’ll be suddenly gripped by an urge to floss my teeth. Or empty the dishwasher. Or Google “North Korean national anthem lyrics”. Or anything that drifts into my head. Honestly how does anyone get anything done any more when everything is at our fingertips?

So I drag myself to the library which is shabbier nowadays. I swerve the sway of drunks congregating on the benches outside. And inside there are just a handful of bookshelves, a few racks of DVDs and more than a whiff of neglect in the air.

I head for the “Quiet Study Zone”, a drab room with mismatched chairs and battered desks. But it’s full of people – heads down, typing, scribbling notes, humming with concentration. Strangers united by silence, academic aspiration and free Wi-Fi.

Not pretty, but it’s a haven while the world goes to hell in a handcart.