Rarely to do you see a political initiative so in tune with the public mood. But Watford Borough Council’s recent crackdown on town centre “chuggers” seems to have uncorked a boiling geyser of public frustration.

The clipboard-sporting charity workers who harass passers-by into signing up to direct debits paying a set amount every month have turned The Parade into a gauntlet of guilt-avoidance in recent years.

One moment you are peacefully wending your way down the pedestrianised concourse, the next you are fending off an overzealous 20-something who is essentially implying you are abetting global starvation by ignoring them.

Another reason chuggers have not endeared themselves to others is the arsenal of irksome gambits they employ to lure people into conversation.

My personal bête noir is the ploy where a chugger affects a jaunty pose and waits for an approaching victim as if they were an old friend. That or making false enquiries about how your day is going before moving seamlessly into an emotionally blackmailing patter.

And it would seem I am not alone, as reports of the crackdown disgorged an outpouring of annoyance and ire from Watford residents on social media this week.

The fact these collectors’ nickname, chuggers, is shorthand for “charity muggers” tells you all you need to know about the esteem in which they are held by the British public.

Despite the unpopularity of “chuggers”, charities show no sign of dispensing with this aggressive method of fundraising.

The attraction is clear: direct debits provide charities with a stable stream of revenue compared to one-off donations and ad hoc philanthropy.

That does not change the fact charities are using the goodwill naturally afforded them as cover for commercially sharp practices.

Nevertheless, the anger towards chuggers on display in the town over the last week is not a reflection of people’s willingness to give to charity.

A cursory leaf through any edition of the Watford Observer will unearth scores of people undertaking well-meaning and often gruelling challenges to raise money for charities. Often these people have been motivated by personal experience.

Unfortunately, the council’s crackdown will not remove chuggers from the town centre completely. Under the new regime they will be kettled to High Street between Clarendon Road and Kings Street.

The main reason chuggers have been allowed free reign until now is because the law is ambiguous about them.

The method only came into use in 1997 and since then councils have largely treated them as any other charity collection.

The council’s reforms seek to differentiate between chuggers and more traditional bucket-shaking charity collections and regulate the former more stringently.

The crackdown seems to have been almost universally welcomed and possibly does not go far enough. More than 80 per cent of readers who took part in our online poll wanted to see them banned completely.

At Tuesday’s meeting, councillors said a complete ban was not legally feasible, although more than a few seemed amenable to the idea.

This week has shown public and political mood, in this small part of the country anyway, wants to see this detested fundraising practice eradicated entirely.

But as long as chuggers make money for charities, they look set to remain a scourge of British high streets.

The clipboard-sporting charity workers who harass passers-by into signing up to direct debits paying a set amount every month have turned The Parade into a gauntlet of guilt-avoidance in recent years.

One moment you are peacefully wending your way down the pedestrianised concourse, the next you are fending off an overzealous 20-something who is essentially implying you are abetting global starvation by ignoring them.

Another reason chuggers have not endeared themselves to others is the arsenal of irksome gambits they employ to lure people into conversation.

My personal bête noir is the ploy where a chugger affects a jaunty pose and waits for an approaching victim as if they were an old friend. That or making false enquiries about how your day is going before moving seamlessly into an emotionally blackmailing patter.

And it would seem I am not alone, as reports of the crackdown disgorged an outpouring of annoyance and ire from Watford residents on social media this week.

The fact these collectors’ nickname, chuggers, is shorthand for “charity muggers” tells you all you need to know about the esteem in which they are held by the British public.

Despite the unpopularity of “chuggers”, charities show no sign of dispensing with this aggressive method of fundraising. The attraction is clear: direct debits provide charities with a stable stream of revenue compared to one-off donations and ad hoc philanthropy.

That does not change the fact charities are using the goodwill naturally afforded them as cover for commercially sharp practices.

Nevertheless, the anger towards chuggers on display in the town over the last week is not a reflection of people’s willingness to give to charity. A cursory leaf through any edition of the Watford Observer will unearth scores of people undertaking well-meaning and often gruelling challenges to raise money for charities. Often these people have been motivated by personal experience.

Unfortunately, the council’s crackdown will not remove chuggers from the town centre completely. Under the new regime they will be kettled to High Street between Clarendon Road and Kings Street.

The main reason chuggers have been allowed free reign until now is because the law is ambiguous about them.

The method only came into use in 1997 and since then councils have largely treated them as any other charity collection. The council’s reforms seek to differentiate between chuggers and more traditional bucket-shaking charity collections and regulate the former more stringently.

The crackdown seems to have been almost universally welcomed and possibly does not go far enough. More than 80 per cent of readers who took part in our online poll wanted to see them banned completely. At Tuesday’s meeting, councillors said a complete ban was not legally feasible, although more than a few seemed amenable to the idea.

This week has shown public and political mood, in this small part of the country anyway, wants to see this detested fundraising practice eradicated entirely.

But as long as chuggers make money for charities, they look set to remain a scourge of British high streets.