You don’t have to like everyone.

Your life is full of people where liking or disliking them is completely irrelevant: your bank manager, the person who collects your refuse, the person driving your train, the local librarian, your pharmacist, every single shift at your region’s sewerage plant, the chief buyer at the local supermarket, every customs official managing vital imports and exports that keep the economy lurching along – whether someone turns up to smooth down the tar in your street doesn’t hang on how you feel about each worker.

None of these functions provide you or I with a dopamine hit, a flush of warm regard, a sense of admiration or fellowship and it’s OK, they’re not meant to.

It helps if you like your boss, colleagues or customers, but the chances that you won’t are good. Lucky for us, the grease that lubricates the machine is professionalism, not dopamine.

It’s a massive plus if you like everyone in your family, but most of us have relatives set our teeth on edge. Still, we stay in touch through the hard times and we pitch up to help when it doesn’t suit us because the force holding it together is a filial bond, not blanket approval.

You don’t have to like the person who owns your pub, manufactures your eye-drops or manages your local council – you only need to know that they won’t poison you, make you go blind or run your council into the ground.