Mark Andrews: In many towns, every day is a bank holiday

Now it's the second weekend of the football season – or the third if you follow one of the less successful teams (only teasing), I've just tested out my wheezy old central heating system in anticipation of the winter, and the Bank Holiday weekend has now arrived.

Is it me, or do the summers seem to get shorter with every passing year?

Give it a few weeks and the nights will be drawing in, we will be waking up to frost in the morning, and counting the months until the spring.

As I write, the weather is dry if a little overcast, and the wind is howling around our newsroom in the sky – as it does pretty much all year round, to be fair. And it is forecast to continue through to Monday, with the Met Office even tantalising us with the prospect of a few sunny intervals. Which beats the traditional downpour we're usually accustomed to.

Bank holidays seem a quaint and somewhat antiquated concept in the increasingly dysfunctional world that is 21st century Britain. They were originally created through the Bank Holiday Act 1871, and were the brainchild of Sir John Lubbock, a banker and MP for Maidstone who wanted to improve the working conditions of those on lower incomes. Perhaps reflecting an age when bankers and politicians were held in slightly higher esteem than they are today. Initially, they applied only to banks and other financial institutions, which had missed out on the public holidays enjoyed by workers in other sectors. This was seen as a little radical, as it was feared that if the banks closed, business would entirely grind to a standstill. Which it did, meaning that bank holidays quite quickly became the norm across the board.

Move forward 153 years, and in many towns it feels like every day is a bank holiday. Even the banks that are still supposed to be open shut their doors at four o'clock. And during the few hours that they do admit customers, they seem to be sparsely staffed by a handful of young people in corporate polo shirts whose main function seems to be telling you to get 'the app' so they can close that branch as well.

Not that it's just the banks. Try getting through on the telephone to certain public sector organisations on any Monday or Friday during the course of the year, and you can bet your last dime you will at best be greeted with a recorded message 'recommending' you look at the website – or, if you really must, send an email which will probably be ignored.

The other problem with bank holidays is that, this one excepted, they mostly occur during the colder months of the year: Three in the winter, two in the spring, and just one towards the end of the summer. I know people like to celebrate the New Year, but wouldn't it be more fun to celebrate on the summer solstice, when the nights are warm and light? Instead of marking Labour Day on the first Monday in May, with its unfortunate connotations with Soviet Russia and Nazi Germany, why not mark VJ Day in the middle of August instead? Still, I suppose at least our Labour Day is in the spring. The Yanks celebrate theirs in November.

Then there is the concept of flexible working, both for employers and workers. Is there really any logic having great swathes of the workforce all off work on exactly the same days? Giving bosses and workers the flexibility to agree among themselves when they would prefer to take time off would not only mean that businesses did not lose a day's production six times a year, it would also mean the end of the traditional holiday traffic jams, the tedious queues at tourist attractions, and it would mean that hotels and travel operators would be less likely to jack up their prices when everybody is off.

Logically, then it is very hard to argue the need for bank holidays in the modern age. Wouldn't it be easier if people took days off when they wanted, at times that were mutually convenient with their employers? Yet, sometimes there is more to life than logic. In our increasingly atomised society, where fewer people watch the same television shows, listen to the same music, or even spend time together in the workplace, pub or at the shops, bank holidays are one of the few occasions when the whole country can come together in a shared experience. Remember how the Platinum Jubilee brought everyone together in a shared communal week of joy? An event, I suspect, that was privately enjoyed by even the most ardent republicans.

And best of all, it means we are also free to enjoy the day safe in the knowledge that the traffic wardens are also taking a day off too.

Enjoy your bank holiday, however you spend it. And raise a glass to Sir John Lubbock.