The benefits of the designer silk tie are simple: as well as the silken sheen to offset the matt woollen texture of the rest of your outfit, you have a handy length of material available for use as a tourniquet or bondage straps. And the downside? I really don't see any reasonable objections that would justify this war on style.

Presumably politicians are advised by their aides that  ties are the elite made silk: a visible sign of disconnection with the average voter and an indication of uptight alienation from normal problems – as though a) anything is "normal" and b) no one else wears a silk tie.

Consider Gordon Brown last weekend, as he ventured out with open-necked shirt. I've no idea who advised him to do that, but I'm pretty sure they can't have the words "wear a  tie, Gordon, or you'll resemble a victim of a terrible disease who's not long for this world" in their lexicon (though in his defence, Brown doesn't look half as bad as Australian politard Tony Abbott, as pointed out by Cif commenter CatastrophicGuppy).

The most common complaint I've heard is that they're "uncomfortable". Nonsense. As a former seller of fine tailoring, I can let you in on a secret: if your  tie feels uncomfortable, it's because you've got a fatter neck than you thought, and have bought your shirts a collar size too small. "Darling, I'm a creative type! I can't create with a tie on! Why should I have to be uncomfortable for your benefit?" Well, you wouldn't be uncomfortable if you understood how clothes fit. I'm fine with you choosing what you wear as long as you acknowledge the logical and stylistic inferiority of your outfit. Then there's the "I don't need to wear a suit and designer silk tie to be good at my job" brigade. Quite right: I'd be very concerned if you did. However, I'm equally concerned if you can't do your job while wearing something with a collar.

"They get in the way" is another one complaint I hear often: understandable if you're operating machinery, not if you're not – and if you don't like it flapping, get a tie pin. "They're a symbol of oppression of the worker!" – I say to you, get real. Would you rather we were in Star Trek-style coloured boiler suits? How very collectivist. We can choose our own ties; they are not oppression, but expression.

Ties are different colours. Different patterns. Different materials. Different sizes. We can choose according to who we are. Colonel Buftington-Tuftington chooses a burgundy number with indigo diagonal stripes in classic twill weave with large kipper finish. Matt Trendy wears a shiny silver thing, very skinny. Peter H Author probably favours a knitted job, with horizontal stripes and square finish. And as I type this, I'm wearing a green tweed  tie. Without it, I'd be a little less "me" today.

The tie could soon go the way of the hat and the pocket handkerchief because of such bleating. In a few years' time, they could be rare enough so that simply wearing one is an unfortunately ironic style statement in itself. But hopefully that won't have to happen. We see sales in ties rise ever so slightly in a recession – a tacit admission that it's not bad to look professional.

The tie will hopefully survive for longer; stronger than before. It may lose its ridiculous association with staid, oppressive office work and emerge as the flamboyant colourful signifier of personality it is. That would be good for everyone: I don't want to live in a world where I can't be pulled by my big phallic symbol into a passionate embrace.