Our old friend working time is back on the EU agenda. Things in Brussels never really go away – they simply fester like overripe Camembert. Some misguided souls thought that, if the UK kept quiet and no one mentioned the words “opt” and “out” in the same sentence as “working” and “time”, all would be peace and harmony. Misguided, given that a many member states are breaking the law on working time and the European Commission is waiting in the wings to take legal action. Simply put, a resolution must be found – unless you’re a Europhobe, of course.

The individual opt-out was a work of genius. In one step it challenged the fundamental premise behind the European law on working time that individual employees should not have the power to decide their own working conditions. Again and again, the EU favours the collective over the individual. In doing so, it is not deliberately being difficult or anti-British, but merely reflecting the domestic norm in most of “old Europe”. There, there’s a deep-rooted assumption that governments, not individuals, know what’s best.

In addition, the issue has history. Successive member states have tried unsuccessfully to broker a deal during their presidential terms. Where heavyweights such as France and Germany have failed, will plucky Slovenia, which holds the EU presidency until July, succeed? Bizarrely, success depends on what is understood by the term “collective bargaining”.

On 20 May, the CBI and TUC reached a deal establishing equal treatment for temporary workers after 12 weeks of continuous employment. The draft European temporary workers directive (which, like the working time directive, has been blocked) proposes that temps should be entitled to equal treatment after only six weeks of employment unless there’s a collective agreement that specifies otherwise. Both blocked laws have become linked.

Several member states need the working time law to be revised to remove the threat of a legal challenge. The UK wants to keep its opt-out, despite intense opposition from other member states. Ideally, it would also like to see the back of the temporary workers directive. For many other member states, reaching an agreement on temporary workers will simply legitimise protectionist local laws that restrict foreign workers from accessing their job markets. The price to the UK of being part of the EU is learning to live with, and amend as far as possible, the anti-competitive and protectionist legislation that comes from Brussels.

So here’s the rub: can a deal between the CBI and TUC ever be classified as collective bargaining? Not surprisingly, the French and several other member states will say “non”, but who cares? Instead of challenging the legitimacy of their collective agreements when less than 4 per cent of the private-sector workforce is unionised, think of Marcel Duchamp. The father of conceptual art bravely expounded the dictum “I am an artist, and everything I do is art if I say it is”. That’s impeccable from a philosophical point of view. So how about “we are the UK government and this is a collective agreement if we say it is”?

Challenges to statements of national competency do not go down well in the new quasi-constitution world. Rational responses may not win the day. The thought that a new member – Slovenia no less – might broker an agreement on not only one but two difficult issues will be too much for many bureaucrats.

A deal too far is, unfortunately, the outcome I predict.