Zack Polanski speaking during the Green Party conference in Bournemouth earlier this month

Then Zack would need to go back to the billionaires for more and I fear he'd find that most of them had moved to Monte Carlo. So instead of getting the tax money they pay now, he'd have no money from them at all. And where would that leave his dream of an all-electric rural bus fleet? In tatters, I'm afraid.

The problem we have here is that Dr Dentures does strike a chord when he starts bashing billionaires, because to his kale-infused followers, a billionaire is Logan Roy or Bobby Axelrod. He's greedy and dangerous and he has a fleet of space shuttles in a volcano.

But here's the thing. I know a few billionaires and they're not really like that at all. In fact, last week, one of them donated half a million quid so a piece of Tudor jewellery can be kept at the British Museum and not sold at auction, where it might fall into private hands. That's the sort of philanthropy that Teeth's never going to mention, because it would confuse his army of Tarquins. A decent billionaire? Noooo.

I'm afraid, however, it also confuses me. The jewellery in question is called the Tudor Heart and was found six years ago in a field in Warwickshire by a morris-dancing enthusiast. I should say at this point that I don't know he was a morris dancer but he was out metal detecting when he found it, so it's a reasonable assumption to make.

Anyway, experts washed the mud off it, spotted the letters H and K on the back and realised that this was something that once belonged to Henry VIII and Katharine of Aragon. This excited historians very much. Indeed, the director of the British Museum, Nicholas Cullinan, described the pendant as "one of the most incredible pieces of English history to have ever been unearthed".

I'm not sure I go with him on that. Because what about Stonehenge? Or the Bignor Roman villa? Or St Enodoc Church? Yes, Henry and Katharine's Pandora pendant is very pretty but it's not a whole bloody church is it? Or what about Richard III? They found an actual king under a car park and surely that trumps everything.

No matter, we are told that the pendant is worth £3.5 million and that this is how much cash the British Museum must now raise to ensure it's available for public perusal for ever more.

Now I should explain at this point that I find museums extremely boring. I once tried to look round the Hermitage in St Petersburg and after two hours, all I'd seen were lots of cups and saucers. And then there were those interminable school trips where you spent what felt like your whole life looking at some broken arrowheads.

This, I fear, is the fate that lies in store for the pendant if the British Museum is successful. It'll be put in a case, with lots of other bits and pieces from the Tudor period, and it'll be ignored for the rest of time by a never-ending conga of Chinese tourists.

So I'd suggest that things would be better if a private collector does get it. I once went to Jeffrey Archer's flat in London and there, on a plinth in the middle of the sitting room, was the extraordinarily beautiful and surprisingly large stopwatch that had been used at the track in Oxford when Roger Bannister broke the four-minute mile. I spent quite a long time admiring it, which most definitely wouldn't have been the case had it been lost in a fog of other running paraphernalia in a museum.

As far as I know, only two artefacts remain from Brunel's last great steamship, the Great Eastern. There's its flagpole, which stands in Liverpool's Anfield stadium, and there's the barometer that hangs on my kitchen wall. I'm glad it does, because that way at least one person looks at it every day, and uses it and loves it. And one person is better than none.

I'm not suggesting that every artefact should be in private hands. Dinosaurs, for example, belong in the Natural History Museum. And it's the same story with the Elgin Marbles. We can't let those out of our sight. But the little things? No. They don't matter.

This view might make things a bit awks when I next run into my billionaire friend whose trust has stumped up half a million to help keep the pendant in the nation's hands. Especially as this column is sure to provoke a chorus of disapproval from Teeth and co about how billionaires are spending their cash on bits of muddy gold, and not on hardworking families in the community.

But that's where they're wrong. Because my mate only decided to save the pendant after stumping up £13.6 million on various educational projects. Which, I'm sure you'll agree, is better than giving that money to the government. Who'd simply use it to make up Angela Rayner's severance pay.