The 175th Grand National was targeted by animal rights protesters on Saturday (April 15), forcing a 15-minute delay to the marathon more than four-mile horse-race and leading to 118 arrests.

Opposition to the annual Merseyside event has flared sporadically since the 1950s, in spite of many changes made with the aim of reducing risk for equine - and human - participants.

The steeplechase has continued, nevertheless, to claim horses’ lives; it did so again this year when Hill Sixteen - one of 39 runners who set out with the aim of negotiating the 30 obstacles - fell at the very first fence.

One does not speak out lightly in favour of an event that can have such heart-rending consequences, but I think it would be a great loss if this piece of Britain’s cultural heritage were shut down (not that I see this as imminent).

I am drawn to this conclusion by both head and heart.

There is nothing contemporary about steeplechasing, or really horse-sport in general; if it had not been invented, we probably would not now bother to do so.

A century and a half ago, though, the horse was fundamental to pretty much all human affairs, from transport to agriculture to waging war.

Nations had every reason to wish to ensure that their stock of horses - and riders - was of a high quality, and sport was a useful tool in this context.

Those days went out with the internal combustion engine, and horses’ usefulness to humans might have been extinguished just as quickly.

The existence of horse-sport ensured that some of these magnificent, mostly good-natured creatures retained a value in their owners’ eyes.

If the Grand National - a very lucrative but unique race - were to be halted, the value of the type of staying chasers that you need to have a chance of success would plunge.

What would then become of them? Well, they would not be left to roam the sun-dappled prairies of East Molesey or Milton Keynes, I can tell you that.

A lucky few would get re-homed: these are high-maintenance creatures that require specialised and expensive handling. The rest? With the best will in the world, I do not think it melodramatic to suggest that the toll of prematurely lost or ruined lives would exceed every Grand National ever run.

Far better, it seems to me, to allow the race to continue, while acknowledging that the occasional fatality is inevitable, and while keeping the pressure up to ensure that animal welfare is indeed paramount.

I am not completely naïve: with so much money at stake, equine welfare is likely quickly to tumble down the list of priorities if vigilance is not enforced.

It has been, on the whole, over the past 20 or so years.

The industry, faced with an existential threat, has taken great pains to make jump racing safer, sometimes against the wishes of traditionalists.

Substantial improvements have been made, bearing in mind that, when they are not racing, the quality of care these horses receive is exceptional.

As someone who now eats almost no meat, it has long seemed to me that animal rights activists ought to make factory farming far more of a priority than racing.

On a previous occasion when I looked in depth at the ethics of horseracing, in 2007, I contacted Peter Singer, the well-known Australian philosopher and animal rights campaigner.

While he made plain his view that animals were subject to “unnecessary stress and abuse in the racing industry", he added that he also thought, "given the relatively small number of animals involved and the more individualised attention racehorses get, that the suffering of racehorses is insignificant compared to, say, the suffering of factory-farmed chickens and pigs."

I would also argue - and now this is my heart speaking - that there is an intrinsic value to the spectacle and emotions aroused by every Grand National, which needs to be considered.

Long-form/long distance sport has always struck me as far more interesting than short-form or sprints.

Why? Because of its metaphorical value. A Test match cricket series, or the 26-mile human marathon race, or the Tour de France can very easily seem to symbolise the euphoric highs and sometimes brutal lows of our passage through life.

But no long-form event is as apt to do this, in my view, as the Grand National - and this despite all the changes and even though the race is all over in less than 10 minutes.

Like those other British sports institutions of long standing, the FA Cup and the County Championship, the Grand National is not quite what it was in the days when hundreds of thousands were drawn to Aintree; but it is significantly less dangerous for participants and, in my view, well worth preserving.

I am afraid that one consequence of last week’s disturbances is that security around the two-mile course will have to be stepped up.

I think it a great pity that so few spectators have in recent years assumed vantage-points in the vicinity of the run of signature fences at the far end of the course, and I suspect even fewer will now.

As to the extent of the threat posed once again to the race’s continuance, well, the timing could actually have been worse.

The title sponsorship is secure up to and including 2026, giving organisers some leeway to consider what, if anything, needs to be done to ensure that the headlines which the race still always engenders, are of a nature likely to be appreciated by deep-pocketed corporations.

If the next round of sponsorship negotiations does not go well, that, I think, would be the time to worry.

It would not surprise me to see further changes made to the race then or before, with a reduction in the maximum number of participants (currently 40) high on the list of possibilities.

It would also not surprise me to see ever more prosperous Ireland - where racing remains integral to national life and opposition is less fierce - assuming an even more prominent place in steeplechasing’s future.