As well as heartbreak, all tragedies create opportunities — if we dare to seize them. From the 2019 Notre Dame fire came the opportunity for the French nation to reconsecrate itself, pour balm upon troubled relations between the Catholic Church and secular state, and give the world a moving example of energy and endeavour. Likewise, the National Trust has an opportunity to do something similar, albeit on a much smaller scale, with Clandon Park.

In 2015, the 18th-century Palladian manor in Surrey was mostly destroyed by fire. But, rather than rebuild it in its entirety and restore its magnificence, the National Trust has decided to leave it as a “country house laid bare”.

I first visited Clandon Park some 20 years ago on one of my very first dates with my wife. The exterior, which survives, is a little dreary; but the interiors, which largely don’t, were glorious: Rysbrack chimneypieces and sinuous plasterwork dripping with scrolls, flowers and Grecian gods and heroes. It’s awful to have lost the originals, but there’s a real opportunity to train a whole generation of master craftspeople, all funded by the insurance company. This is certainly the approach that would be taken throughout Europe.

Initially, the Trust got it right. It committed publicly to restoration and had £63 million in insurance funds to carry this out. Unfortunately, things soon changed. The Trust is influenced by the insular elements of the British conservation movement that, unlike European counterparts, have always opposed conservation beyond day-to-day repair. They prefer instead to rebuild de novo. In 2022, the Trust decided to abandon its initial plans and instead maintain Clandon Park as a fire-damaged shell, with a modern roof, glass skylights, and intrusive metal walkways so as to permit the public to inspect the remnants.

Not only might the restoration have employed and trained hundreds of craftspeople, but it could have used natural materials such as clay, lime, sand, animal hair and timber. It could have been deeply aligned with the National Trust’s principles of local skills, repair and sustainable development. Instead, the charity will be shipping energy-intensive plate glass and structural steel from abroad, burning oodles of precious carbon in the process. It has issued no public calculation of the relative carbon emission of the two approaches. But its key decision-makers must know that their chosen approach is deeply opposed to their own professions of sustainability, stewardship and love of place.

The good news is that a different approach could be so easy. All around the world, programmes which carefully and lovingly create buildings of wonder are rendered financially viable by the love bestowed upon them by the public. The “medieval” chateau of Guédelon in France, the street-by-street recreation of historic Dresden, the thoughtful restorations of the Landmark Trust, Wentworth Woodhouse in Yorkshire: all attract a paying public time and after time, visit after visit, to see the story of their recreation. At Clandon 2.0 there will be no emerging story. No one will come twice.

The National Trust is seeking planning permission for a glass and metal box. Guildford Borough Council should refuse them and instead oblige them to put back the slate roof.

No one likes to admit that they’ve made an awful mistake. The current National Trust high command certainly will not. They are too publicly committed to their scorched-earth approach. But they need to be stopped from making the situation worse so that, in the future, hopefully more thoughtful, loving and enlightened stewards of the National Trust can launch the programme of careful restoration which Clandon Park so clearly needs. If done properly, the public will pay and the future will be kind. If only we could put the King in charge.