EVERY picture tells a story, and someone’s body language and looks are often more eloquent than mere words.

Take that piece of Parliamentary rigmarole the other week, the “dragging” of the new Speaker of the Commons to the chair.

John Bercow must have some pretty deadly enemies in his own party. The looks on their faces said the only place they wanted him dragging was down some back alley after closing time. It made a mockery of what’s supposed to be a hallowed ceremony.

It’s all nonsense, of course, like so many of our so-called revered traditions. It stems from the days when being Speaker was a hazardous job. Back then, government cuts meant the king was chopping someone’s head off. The ceremony means nothing to the wider public, so why bother?

But tradition doesn’t need to be a thing of the past – pardon the pun. If we can make them relevant to today, they can be positive and enriching experiences. This week, we had a traditional ceremony: we made Jack Hatfield, a remarkable man from a remarkable family, a freeman of Middlesbrough.

Freemen used to be a privileged caste, exempt from taxes and having to doff their cap to the lord of the manor. Things are different now, of course. Being a freeman gives you no special powers. It does something more important. It singles you out as a special person, someone who is valued and respected by all their fellow citizens.

Jack’s family came to Middlesbrough in the 1850s, part of that great, hopeful mass of humanity heading towards the Infant Hercules on the Tees. His father was a true local legend, Jack Hatfield Senior, international water-polo player and swimmer, winner of three medals at the 1912 Stockholm Olympics, director of Middlesbrough FC and founder of the family sports shop.

This newspaper doesn’t have the space, and I don’t have the skills to explain fully what Jack Hatfield’s, as it is universally known, means to Middlesbrough. Someone described it as a cross between Santa’s grotto and the Tardis. Another told me: “We all knew they hardly ever charged you the full price, but when they said you can have it for such-and-such, you felt so special. You always felt they were just doing it for you.”

Jack Junior and his three brothers were all terrific swimmers and have each made a big contribution to the town. Jack Junior was a leading light in the Temperance Society and did tremendous work in encouraging and guiding young sportsmen and women, this columnist included. He was immensely generous with his time and wisdom. He also once saved a woman from drowning at Saltburn.

Remarkably, his grandfather and father had both rescued people, too – one in the sea, another in the swimming baths.

The ceremony to give Jack Junior the freedom of Middlesbrough was short on pomp, but long on happiness, laughter and admiration.

Again, I watched the body language of the people taking part. They were all saying the same thing, pretty much – thank you for being a good friend, a giving, generous person and an exemplary citizen.

It was an example of a still-relevant tradition, that means something to people. Out there somewhere, in my town or yours, there may be an individual or family setting down the same track as the Hatfields did all those years ago, building a business, building a tradition, being determined to put something back into the community. We have got to encourage, value and reward them. The values they represent will never go out of fashion.