Police Scotland have told their officers to stop listening to music while they are at work.
Now I have to be honest, I had no idea that police listened to music when they were at work so I was more than just a little bit surprised to read this.
Surely it must be seriously distracting from the important job police do when a tranny is blaring out across the room? (edit: for my younger readers and the politically correct brigade out there, the word "tranny" is an old fashioned term for a transistor radio - it's not a suggestion that cross-dressing police officers stand in the corner of incident rooms belting out "I am what I am")
However I digress.
It seems that distraction, obvious as it is, is not actually the reason bosses have told our bold boys in blue to turn off Bowie@Breakfast and Boogie&Arlene.
They say it's for cost cutting reasons.
Now I'm truly stumped. What costs could listening to the wireless possibly have?
When Police Scotland became the one big centralised force in 2013 were cops ordered to stop listening to Radio Clyde in the West and Radio Forth in the East and only listen to one big central station like Radio Scotland? Did the BBC send the detector van round and hit them for royalties?
Or perhaps every time the theme tune from 'The Sweeney' comes on air, police feel the need to beat up members of the public and the doctors bills for police officers with sore fists are mounting up?
I don't know.
My best guess is that bosses feel that music has had some sort of a corrupting influence on our coppers and by cutting it down, it'll cut down corruption, therefore reducing complaints against officers and the legal costs of defending them.
Perhaps police were listening to Transvision Vamp's "Baby I don't care" when they got together with the Crown office and the HSE to decide a bin lorry driver who lied to the DVLA and mowed down six members of the public should not be prosecuted?
Perhaps they were listening to Korn's "I will protect you" when they sabotaged the Coulson trial?
Perhaps they were listening to Nero's "Crush on you" when they took Sheku Bayoh in to custody?
One thing's for sure though. When their good buddies down at Hillsborough were on duty that fateful day in 1989, Fleetwood Mac's "Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies" must have been blaring out of every coppers Sony Walkman.