I hate people who say “I hate to say I told you so”, because they usually smirk with triumph as they say it. But in my case I shall make an exception. On the subject of the 2012 Olympics, its exponentially expanding budget (£5.1 billion and counting) and its potentially catastrophic effect on our arts and heritage sectors, I really do hate to say “I told you so”.

I supported London’s bid. Amazingly, I still do, even though I see more and more T-shirts bearing the satirical slogan “London . . . er, 2013?” But on this page last April I predicted Britain’s cultural life “being knocked back into the Dark Ages as the Government diverts more and more money to the Games”. Tragically, that gloomy prognosis seems to be coming true more quickly and depressingly than I imagined.

Evidence? Consider the British Library’s recent chorus of complaint. Deep in their red-brick bunker at St Pancras its managers tell us that they expect a 7 per cent cut in their £100 million budget this year, and claim that this may lead to reduced opening hours, the need to charge readers, and even a substantial trimming of the 150 million items in the library’s matchless collections.

This isn’t the place to debate whether the BL gives a good enough service to enough taxpayers to justify a £100 million (or even £93 million) subsidy. No, what fascinates me is the reason for this anticipated cut. It’s the same reason that lies behind the pruning of all arts and heritage lottery grants by 10 per cent, and the imperilling of 86,000 Big Lotto grants to youth and community projects, and the stark warning to performing organisations and museums to prepare for ruthless treatment after this year’s comprehensive spending review. And that reason is? As they would say on American presidential hustings: it’s the Olympics, stoopid.

With the budget for that three-week splurge floating off into a kind of parallel financial universe, the Government is desperately seeking alternatives to the obvious (but politically disastrous) way of footing the bill: by putting up taxes. And culture is a soft and vulnerable target.

According to ministers, many arts, heritage and community organisations have enjoyed “ten good years”, so it’s only fair that they suffer now to pay for Lord Coe’s jockstrap jamboree. The first part of that assertion is true. Arts bodies have garnered billions in lottery dosh, and enjoyed real increases in subsidy too. But they have delivered marvellous things in return. I travel a lot, and I see refurbished galleries, new concert halls, fabulous youth theatre and music projects and reinvigorated performing organisations making a huge difference to ordinary lives — not just in London (the familiar but unfair accusation) but in the regions too. Indeed, in my own field, music, the most exciting developments this century have nearly all been outside London. That’s the lottery’s doing.

It’s mad to put this at risk, not least because the quality and diversity of the arts in multicultural Britain is a large part of the reason for us snatching the 2012 Games from under French noses in the first place. What’s the answer, then? Well, if the Government needs billions to pay for the Olympics overspend, a swift withdrawal from Iraq and Afghanistan would make a lot more sense, morally and financially, than a smash-and-grab raid on arts funding.

But since when did sense count for anything?