HERE’S a true story. A boy got some headphones for Christmas. They cost £24.99. A few months later, they fell to pieces.

The boy and his mother took them back to the big store where they had been bought for a refund or a replacement.

“Oh no,” said the shop assistant, “those things aren’t made to last.

Anyway, you only have 28 days to return goods.”

The boy’s mother knew this wasn’t true, but she checked her position with the Office of Fair Trading and then went back to the shop.

“The law is that you must give me a refund,” she said.

The shop assistant spoke to the manager, who grudgingly agreed to a refund, not as the customer’s right, but “at the discretion of the store”.

Why do I tell this story?

Customers are often treated shabbily, and denied their rights as consumers.

On a scale of awfulness, this hardly compares with terrorism and murder.

On the other hand, the effect of dozens of such episodes is cumulative. They help to create a climate in which customers are demeaned, young shop assistants are not encouraged to take pride in their work, and deceit becomes the currency of everyday life.

“Civility” is a word not often used today. It means treating each other with respect.

But it comes from an old Latin word which means how we function as a city. A city in which civility is practised is one in which customers are treated with respect, in which shoddy goods are not put on sale in the first place or at least are instantly replaced or refunded – with apologies.

To do otherwise would be a breach of civility – something to bring shame on a city.

“But what can we do?” people will say. “This sort of thing goes on all the time.”

Well, what we can all do is to do as that boy’s mother did – we can be sure of our rights, and then quietly, politely and firmly insist on them.

Not”at the discretion” of those who have wronged us, but as a matter of justice.