Have the French put a bomb under the notion that rugby union needs a new set of laws, with the way they played Scotland in Edinburgh?

The fast, innovative, attacking style sanctioned from the first whistle by new French coach Marc Lievremont reminded some observers of the rugby played by France in their halcyon days, times such as the 1960s and early 1970s.

Theirs was a performance of rhythm, flow and continuity in a game in which so often the ball did the work in beating the defender.

So what did it tell us about the laws of the game and the proposed changes that are now being trialled and considered? Perhaps that it is not the actual laws that have been the problem, but defensive-minded coaches’ manipulation of them.

What France showed us in Scotland was that attack is a specific mentality, a certain philosophy. Go onto any rugby field with that modus operandi locked firmly into your players’ psyche, as France certainly did last weekend, and entertainment and excitement are guaranteed.

Of course, mistakes will occur. Playing a high risk, high speed game will inevitably come to grief at times. But if the coach is sufficiently strong-willed and confident to let his players make (and doubtless learn from) their errors, then the chances are they will improve significantly as a team and as individuals.

As the great old French centre Andre Boniface has said: “All people, whether they be players, spectators or coaching staff, must understand there will be mistakes if you adhere to this philosophy. But it is only by making mistakes that players will develop.”

Boniface should know what he’s talking about. The Mont-de-Marsan and French teams in which he, his late brother Guy and wing Christian Darrouy sparkled in the 1960s, played rugby rich in innovation and invention.

What the new French coach Lievremont challenged his players to do at Murrayfield, was something few coaches of the modern era are prepared to embrace. He asked them to make decisions for themselves and their team-mates on the evidence of what was in front of them, not from what their coach might have told them hours or days before. If there was a need to kick, France did it. But when the attacking opportunities were there, when some space was to be spied, the French were fully prepared to run.

By doing so, they reminded us of the joys of this game as a flowing spectacle, if it is played correctly. But perhaps the trouble is, you need brio to take on board such a philosophy and few coaches of contemporary times would even understand such a word.

But didn’t France also reveal that this was the way to play and destroy defensive-minded teams? Scotland were considered a very much improved team, and a highly organised one in a defensive sense, too. They showed at the last World Cup how dogged and difficult they could be to defeat.

But the French annihilated them in their own backyard by playing at a pace and with a commitment to keeping the ball alive that left the Scots floundering. The Scots themselves later bemoaned their own mistakes, carefully omitting to say that French élan, pace and pressure had been responsible for so many of them. You could see the Scottish panicking as wave after wave of French attacks rained down on them. They just weren’t used to such a scenario.

It all rather suggests that maybe there wasn’t so much wrong with the old game, after all. Just the people coaching and playing it.