Jonny Wilkinson’s attempted drop goal in the dying stages against the All Blacks was a sign that England’s creativity is at an all-time low. Photo / Getty Images Expand

Jonny Wilkinson’s attempted drop goal in the dying stages against the All Blacks was a sign that England’s creativity is at an all-time low. Photo / Getty Images

Of all people, it was Jonny Wilkinson, the hero of all English rugby heroes, who defined most starkly how far his team had regressed, how pressing is the need for an injection of wit, some sense that the nation who contested the last two World Cup finals remember how to play the game at the highest level.

On one of the few occasions when the line of the sometimes bizarrely dysfunctional All Blacks was even vaguely threatened, Wilkinson attempted a drop goal. The appalling fact was that the lesser of his crimes was to miss.

It was a truly terrible moment, as though his mind had been turned into mush by the sheer scale of his difficulties.

In that moment of philosophical bankruptcy, Wilko announced that England were indeed lost, that their circuit was broken, their confidence in their powers of creativity at possibly an all-time low.

Afterwards Wilkinson's coach and former fellow hero, Martin Johnson, insisted that his men were making solid progress, even if it wasn't so obvious on the field, which made you wonder quite where else we might profitably get out the old Bunsen burner.

At such times the squeamish are obliged to swallow and look away because it is impossible to believe that this wasn't another day when the English game, as currently organised, appeared to be up.

Of course there is no dishonour in losing to New Zealand, even when evidence of their brilliance is available only in staccato bursts, but we are not talking about honour or application or good intentions. We are discussing the need for a small signal or two that there might be a future in which a hint of flair, even rough practicality and self-belief, might just illuminate what at the moment can only be seen as defiant drudgery.

Once again Lewis Moody displayed the most intense of the resistance, this time augmented by the still snarling Lion Simon Shaw, and around them was plenty of evidence of players manfully attempting to cope with opposition that, for all its inconsistency, might still have scored four or five tries - especially if the brilliant run of fullback Mils Muliaina had not left a foot trailing over the line as he attempted a touchdown that might easily have triggered a rampage.

There was no question about England's willingness to fight, only the extreme paucity of their means.

New Zealand coach Graham Henry was generous - "England always provide strong opposition" - and he was at his most sarcastic when a French journalist gently suggested that this might not have been the most convincing overture for the tour climax in France. "The French must be licking their lips," Henry smiled, grimly.