The headlines that followed the publication of Lord Goldsmith's citizenship review caused a disturbance in the mind of my 11-year-old grandchild, who is off to a south London comprehensive this year. His grandmother telephoned asking me to confirm that he is a citizen of the United Kingdom. He was suddenly besieged by demons of doubt that over night it had become compulsory to swear allegiance to the Queen before he is designated a citizen of this land, in which he was born, and in which both his parents were born.

Goldsmith has interrupted the smooth flow of his relations with his fellow citizens. Now he thinks he is a nobody, drifting in the dark until he raises his right hand to the Queen, ending with a thumping rendition of "Land of Hope and Glory", or perhaps "Rule Britannia".

I am not being frivolous. I vaguely remember its being announced that Goldsmith had been given the task of exploring some remote constitutional issues. I paid no attention. This was compensation, I thought, for his utter failure as attorney general, particularly in his advice, or lack of it, to Tony Blair on the Iraq War. His report would gather dust and be forgotten.

I had learned in my legal studies that there was no written constitution for the United Kingdom, but that this serves us well because it allows great flexibility in relations between state and citizen. Goldsmith does not see it this way. This is what he says: "It is easy to imagine that British citizenship should denote a strong connection with membership of the community in the UK; that British citizenship denotes a strong commitment to, and connection with, this country. However, that is not historically the case."

He continues: "In effect, the history of legislation on citizenship and nationality has led to a complex scheme lacking coherence or any clear and self-contained statement of the rights and responsibilities of citizens."

He is way off beam. Between 1914 and 1918, and again from 1939-45, unyielding commitment and a deep connection with the country were the main inspirations for our unstinting support of each other in time of war. We did not need the likes of Lord Goldsmith to denote what our responsibilities and commitments were. Hundreds of thousands travelled from remote parts of India, Africa and the Caribbean to defeat the enemy. So many died for the cause.

Goldsmith's rules and regulations were not necessary then for us to know what we should or should not do. Now, however, a handful of disaffected youths, mainly of Pakistani origin, has panicked this government into regulating our lives by new laws about treason and who is and who is not a citizen.

Goldsmith et al hold the view that a tight rein must be placed on the citizens of this country. The other recommendations of the review are trite and without substance. We need, he says, a national day on which we commit to each other. I expect this will involve mass waving of the Union Jack and citizens singing patriotic songs.

"The national day will provide a framework in which different communities in different parts of the UK come together to celebrate their common bonds," he says.

Has it not crossed his mind that the work process provides just such a coming together each and every day? Thousands march in and out of offices, factories and hospitals, travel with each other on Tubes, buses and trains.

There is much more in Goldsmith's report, all in the same hapless vein. Increasingly, governments are given to regulate our lives from the cradle to the grave. If there is something called Britishness, it is the tendency to resist this interference by the state.