Evening Standard: The natural hazards threatening our lives

Britain was swept by a tidal wave of headlines yesterday predicting that we will be devastated by - a giant tidal wave. Are the inspirers of these stories serious scientists or publicity-seeking alarmists? By David Rowan

IF YOU'VE read this far, the huge tidal wave that will flatten Britain has, mercifully, spared us for another day. But don't relax too much: according to headlines yesterday, the 'mega-tsunami' due to hit us from the Canary Islands will get us sooner or later, destroying everything in its 500mph path.

According to scientists at University College London, there's no question that the tidal wave will wreak devastation - it's simply a matter of when. That's if one of the 1,000 or so kilometre-wide asteroids heading towards Earth doesn't bump into us first.

The same group of scientists has also been busy warning that just one impact they're watching for it now - will kill a couple of billion of us. There's a '100 per cent certainty' that we're facing such a collision, they insist, so prepare now for the ensuing 'cosmic winter'. These may sound like silly-season scare stories, but the predictions come from an expert team at UCL with a rather good track record at predicting natural disasters. From deep within Gower Street they foresaw not only Mount Etna's eruption this summer, but that the lava flows would be between 5km and 8km long (spot on: the Italians measured 6.5km).

In May 2000, they predicted the numbers of tropical storms and typhoons that would strike the next season in the Pacific (25 storms and 14 typhoons, just as they'd said); they forecast the numbers of storms that would hit Australia; they even mastered that most uncertain of meteorological skills, the ability to estimate the average spring temperature in England. They said it would be 8.6C; it came in at 8.5C.

But it's the group's more open-ended predictions - the disasters they insist will eventually hit us, even if we have to wait centuries or millenniums - that generate the headlines. Each time the scientists warn afresh of volcanic super-eruptions or threats from space, the phones at UCL keep ringing with media requests, from the tabloids to the Today programme.

Is this just another example of academics talking up unprovable dangers to draw attention to themselves? 'Absolutely not,' says an indignant Professor Bill McGuire, who runs the group, known as the Benfield Greig Hazards Research Centre. 'We don't need to raise our profile. It's just that you can't keep quiet about things like asteroid impacts. They're going to get us sooner or later - so what's the point of putting your head in the sand and keeping quiet?'

Professor McGuire, a genial 46-year-old, insists he isn't trying to scare us: rather, he wants governments and aid agencies to plan for the worst. Ten years ago, he says, he was mocked for his asteroid warnings, but today the Government has set up a task force to study the threat, and opened a monitoring station in Wales. 'We're relatively safe from volcanoes and earthquakes in Britain, but some geophysical events will affect everyone on the planet,' he says. 'The UK doesn't store more than a month's food supply.

What happens when volcanic super-eruption far away leaves us facing five years living in pitch black and freezing?' It will, he says, be like surviving a nuclear war without the radiation: the last one probably left just 40 or so humans alive. But there is a big difference between these mega-threats - due to hit at some indeterminate time - and the centre's main work: predicting the more short-term hazards of hurricanes, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. So sharp have the department's 20 or so academics become at predicting short-term natural disasters that now governments, insurers and aid agencies are listening.

In the short term, for instance, they predict that England will enjoy drier autumns for a couple of years, with no repeat of last year's floods. This will be followed by unusually hot spells and water shortages brought on by drought. If you're sailing into the Atlantic next season, season, watch out for tropical storms - there will be 12, to be precise, of which seven will reach hurricane force. That's safer than the Pacific, which will face 18 typhoons while Australia will be pounded by six severe cyclones before April.

How do they know? The answers lie in an unglamorous open-plan war room tucked away in the geological sciences department of UCL. From here - and a sister campus outside Guildford members of the Benfield Greig centre monitor satellite data and run computer models to identify where trouble is brewing. Set up four years ago at the insurance industry's behest sponsors Benfield Greig are the world's third-largest reinsurance broker - they are busy predicting volcanic eruptions, tropical storms and earthquakes, as well as helping on the ground when the worst happens.

In the past year Bill McGuire has lectured in New Zealand on volcanoes, told Greek civil servants how to cope with disasters, visited the Bhuj earthquake site in India, and studied how California is monitoring threats from space.

Not that Professor McGuire and his colleagues are pessimists: to the geologists, vulcanologists, meteorologists and 'disaster managers' attached to his department plus another 25 or so elsewhere - they're simply number-crunching on computers to predict the future. Take their latest success, predicting the exact size of the Mount Etna eruption in Sicily, and the fact that lava flows would not reach the town of Nicolosi. Under deputy director Dr Chris Kilburn, just back from Etna, they spent years monitoring tiny movements in the volcano's surface, caused by rocks snapping as fresh magma rose.

Satellite data sent to London showed swellings on the ground as small as a centimetre - enough for them to see the trouble ahead. Long before the locals knew, they warned the Italian government that Etna's southern flank was going to give. Similarly, the team can spot an increased chance of earthquakes - if not their timing - by detecting radon gas, released when rocks start to crack. Experts also look for eccentric behaviour among cattle and fish although no one understands the link.

Let's hope it helps. Tokyo is expecting the big one any day now, and certainly, Professor McGuire believes, within the next 20 or 30 years. 'Insurers try to put it to the back of their minds,' he says. The last major earthquake, in 1923, left 200,000 dead and caused damage worth Dollars 50 billion in today's money.

Although Kobe suffered a Dollars 200 billion quake in 1995, Tokyo has been quiet since 1923. But today, with four different faults 'ready to go', the experts say there is 'no question' that the ground will open under Tokyo some time soon. When it happens, the ensuing global economic meltdown will get us all.

'The Japanese have faith that they'll pick up the precursor signs, but that's pure fantasy,' Professor McGuire warns. 'The quake will devastate the Japanese economy, and they'll have to disinvest worldwide to rebuild Tokyo. Imagine if it happened now, with the world on the edge of recession.'

MEANWHILE, there are always enough workaday natural disasters to keep the insurers busy. Each year for the past decade, they have dealt with $2 billion in damage caused by winter storms hitting Europe. Even poor old Royal Leamington Spa, hit by floods in April 1998, faced a £350 million bill.

But it's hurricanes that reliably cause trouble year after year: in the US, the annual damage averages $5 billion. At UCL's Surrey campus, in a hilltop retreat near Holmbury St Mary, the Benfield Greig centre's meteorological chief, Dr Mark Saunders, predicts the coming season's hurricanes, typhoons and cyclones. Displayed along the office walls - as Jordan or Melinda might be in a car repair shop - are posters charting the chaos brought by the department's pinup disasters: Hurricane Hugo, Storm Lothar, Windstorm Vivian ... 'I like them all,' confides Dr Saunders, a quietly spoken man who does not immediately appear a match for a 125mph storm. 'I've no particular favourite.'

The experts use satellites to measure sea temperatures and wind speeds. Data is fed into computers to forecast extreme weather up to a year in advance. The latest news is that it's going to be a bad year in the Atlantic, expecting a fifth more hurricanes than usual.

Insurers need the information to set premiums. Power companies need to know if storms will bring down cables. Cruise liners need to plan routes that avoid typhoons. And shops need to know what clothes to stock.

'We're even starting to link extreme weather to health in the UK,' Dr Saunders says. 'We've found that colder, less wet weather is linked to a higher incidence of flu.'

While he's convinced that global warming is already having an effect on the British climate - '15 of the last 16 warmest years have occurred since 1980' - Dr Saunders warns against blaming it for every flood or drought. 'All the hysteria linking last autumn's floods to climate change was wrong,' he says.

Back at Gower Street, the rest of the Benfield Greig team are facing their own crisis. 'The roof 'S caved in,' Bill McGuire exclaims - a hazard the centre notably failed to predict. But the problem only momentarily distracts him from the bigger picture - the huge natural disasters that governments are failing to prepare for.

'These global geophysical events are real,' he says. 'They're going to happen, and are not necessarily a long way in the future.
Maybe a thousand years away - or maybe tomorrow. 'Though,' he admits, 'I don't lie awake thinking about it.'

[PANEL]
Just when you thought it was safe to stay on Earth ...

Giant waves
The problem: Huge landslides at sea, after earthquakes or volcanic eruptions, cause enormous fasttravelling waves that hit faraway coastlines with the energy of an atomic bomb. In 100 years 50,000 people have died in 400 tsunami.
The solution: If unstable volcanoes and earthquake zones are monitored, advance warnings might be made about potential tsunami. But will governments on the other side of the world move people inland in time?
The risk: The threat is growing in mountainous areas, partly because of global warming. The next big tsunami will probably start at the Canary Islands, flattening Britain's Atlantic coastline for miles inland. Huge waves will also engulf the eastern US and Caribbean. 'There might be a million dead,' says professor McGuire. 'You won't want to be in the Bahamas at the time.'

Asteroid impact
The problem: Scientists estimate that 1,000 asteroids wider than 1km are threatening the Earth's orbit. So far they have identified only 300 to 400. If we're hit, we're in big trouble: the impact will kick up cosmic dust and trigger a 'cosmic winter' which could last for years. A quarter of the world's population could starve.
The solution: Any large asteroid heading towards Earth must be identified years in advance, as the only hope is deflecting its path (shooting at it would be futile). One plan involves attaching a solarpowered motor to the asteroid to alter its course. The theory remains untested.
The risk: A collision is expected only once every 100,000 years - although the last such impact was 900,000 years ago, so we're running late. 'Statistically you're 750 times more likely to be killed in an impact event than you are of winning the Lottery,' says professor McGuire.

Global meltdown
The problem: Tokyo is well overdue an earthquake. When it comes, as geologists expect within 20 years, it will consume the city in a firestorm.
The solution: Relocate the population away from an earthquake zone, or at least remove Tokyo's million or so wooden buildings. Neither option is likely to be adopted.
The risk: Certain. Potential damage has been estimated at Dollars 7 trillion, and Japan will have to withdraw all its investments from the rest of the world to rebuild. Result: global economic collapse.

Volcanic eruptions
The problem: The most powerful volcanic eruptions, known as super-eruptions, bring disaster far beyond their source. The last one, in Indonesia around 74,000 years ago, ejected 3,000 cubic km of ash enough to bury an area from Slough to Basildon under a 2km-deep blanket. The debris spread across the planet, reducing temperatures by five or six degrees, and came close to wiping out the human race.
The solution: The most likely cause of mass death will be starvation, as no new food will be grown. The best we can do is to stock up.
The risk: There have been three super-eruptions at Yellowstone in Wyoming, and the volcano is still active, although a fresh build-up would take several years. 'We expect two super-eruptions every 100,000 years. It wouldn't be a surprise if one happened tomorrow,' says Professor McGuire.

(Evening Standard, August 31 2001)

Read more!

Evening Standard: Urinals, bananas - and other new places to advertise

Urinals, bananas, sandwich bags - nowhere is safe from adverts these days. David Rowan reports on the boom in unlikely commercial sites

IF banks are boringly conventional ad clients, then Smile is a banana. Two-hundred thousand bananas, to be precise - each one currently being transformed into an advertising medium to rival a mere 64-sheet poster. As the late-summer crop is being picked on a Surinam plantation, workers are affixing stickers to each fruit bearing the online bank's logo and the slogan 'Top banana'.

'Advertising on fruit isn't really what you'd expect from a bank,' admits Bob Head, Smile's chief executive, who bought the idea from its ad agency, Farm Communications. He will be the one smiling if the bananas - arriving in Coop stores next week - succeed in attracting consumers' ever-shorter attention.

It might be a gloomy time for the broadcast and print ad markets, but one industry sector - say it quietly - is still talking of sustained growth, rising profits, even job security. It's called ambient advertising, and it's on a roll - with everybody from Sony to the Evening Standard looking for increasingly inventive ways to grab your attention.

Ambient media encompasses the range of evermore unorthodox locations where ads can be squeezed, from the Millennium Dome's roof - last week refused planning permission to display Smint's logo - to the pub urinal. As TV audiences fragment, advertisers are constantly looking for new ways of reaching us - whether we're relieving ourselves or ordering a tuna melt.

'Advertising on sandwich bags is a no-brainer,' says David Landsberg, managing director of Bag Media, whose paper bags and napkins have become an integral part of the takeaway lunch. The Evening Standard and Marmite are among advertisers covering 60,000 bags issued per working hour. 'With so much clutter on TV and in the streets, it's a way for clients to reach an audience where they want to be, targeting at a much more fragmentable level,' Landsberg says.

He founded the business four years ago after two decades in the packaging industry, and demand has recently become so great, he says, that the company is about to diversify into kebab wrappers and off-licence bags. If you want to target painters and decorators, he can offer you a package of bacon-butty bags, sent to the nation's greasy-spoons - all for less than a penny a bag.

Like many in the industry, Landsberg is uncomfortable with the term 'ambient media', which conjures up images of stunts and flyposting, and prefers to talk about 'support media'. But however it's defined, the ambient sector is estimated to have grown in value last year by a third, to more than £80 million - with London agencies in the vanguard. And, increasingly, mainstream brands are choosing to use it.

Cunning Stunts, based in Hatton Garden, recently launched a nationwide fly-posting campaign for the Mini, which it says attracted just two complaints from local councils. It has run a seven-city pavement 'chalk art' campaign to promote Vodafone, hung gigantic Levi jeans above busy shopping streets, and floated a giant football pitch down the Thames for Dockers. 'The objective is to get people talking,' says Anna Carloss, Cunning Stunts' MD. 'You've got to be cheeky and quirky to gain coverage.'

Sometimes, though, even a mainstream brand can prove too radical. Mark Stanley runs Alvern Forecourt Media, which sells space on petrolpump nozzles to advertisers including Cadbury's. 'We made the fatal mistake recently of running a campaign for the Conservative Party,' Stanley confides. 'We'll never do that again: just about every Labour councillor who filled up complained.'

You're not even safe nowadays in the washroom. Captive View, which glamorously defines itself as a 'public-toilet media specialist', has been busily filling London bars with Viewrinals - video screens mounted to urinals that use sensors to count the number of users. The screens are soon going nationwide, to advertise products ranging from Supernoodles to 20th Century Fox videos. 'Anywhere there's a captive audience, advertisers want to be,' says Captive View's MD, Ronnie Rees.

Demand for the service is growing fast - although, to be fair, not all brands would find the medium suitable. The Conservative Party, for one, has not yet enquired about booking space.

(Evening Standard, August 29 2001)

Read more!

Evening Standard: Could real journalists pass a media-studies A-level?

So, How Did You Do In Your A-Level, Sir Peregrine?: Could real journalists pass a media-studies A-level? David Rowan put two of them to the test

STOP, for a moment, thinking of this as a classically lively and insightful Evening Standard feature, and see it for what it really is: homework. Simply by reading this far, you have sharpened your critical faculties, engaged in a ripe old contextual analysis, and deconstructed the very essence of contemporary print journalism. Congratulations - just another paragraph or two now and you'll be ready to claim your media-studies degree.

Well, perhaps the coursework is tad more demanding than that. But for media executives across the land, currently besieged by the late-summer wave of CVs brimming with media-studies credentials, the subject retains a certain image problem. In the words of former chief inspector of schools Chris Woodhead, it's one of those 'fatuous' disciplines, like knitwear, beauty therapy and golf-course management, that mark the decline of a once-great nation.

Tell that to the 25,321 students who sat media, film or TV studies at AS-level this summer, or the 15,805 who took the A-level. Barely a decade old, the A-level course is already garnering ratings that ITV Saturday-night football can only dream about. First piloted in four schools 11 years ago, it is now more popular than German and music combined. But how much of a gap is there between the skills that are taught and the daily demands of work in the media?

To test the premise, we asked two senior journalists to sit one of this summer's A-level papers, which we then sent to a professional examiner for marking. Our candidates have held what many students would see as dream jobs in newspapers and television: Sir Peregrine Worsthorne edited The Sunday Telegraph, and Kirsty Lang, former Sunday Times correspondent, now presents Channel 4 News. We asked them to choose one question from the Oxford, Cambridge and RSA exam board's 'media debates' paper - sat by 6,402 other students in June as part of their A-level course - and made them stick closely to the rules. No reference books; no more than an hour for the question; and answers in their best handwriting.

The choice of 17 questions ranged from discussing the extent to which TV ads 'reinforce or subvert dominant ideologies', to an analysis of the settings within soap operas that represent 'characters in their own right'. Both of our candidates chose question nine: 'Discuss the view that news is produced and manufactured as a commodity.' So how did they do?

'They're very brave,' said our examiner, Richard Harvey, 57, who has taught and examined the subject since its inception. 'But while you can busk it as a journalist, at A-level you've got to know what you're talking about.'

Mr Harvey had some rather strong views of our candidates' efforts (see panel). But his main concern is for those who dismiss the subject as an easy option. 'It isn't a training for the industry it doesn't pretend to be,' he said. 'It's an academic discipline that teaches independent research. The problem is that media practitioners look at the courses and say there's no way they can train you for the newsroom - when they're not trying to.'

An unscientific poll among newspaper and broadcast executives conducted by Media Standard certainly suggests that few see a media-studies qualification as a reason to employ somebody - the exception being the postgraduate journalism courses from colleges that maintain strong industry links. Mr Harvey's students have gone on to work as northern sports editor on the Telegraph and presenter on BBC News 24, but the course isn't designed for the workplace.

Rather, it is designed to stretch students' analytical skills and spur their critical might. 'There are some duff university courses out there which pretend they're vocational, but they're not,' he said. 'That's how some centres of higher education will pitch their courses just to attract students.'

As for our candidates, neither saw any reason to book the retakes next summer. Kirsty Lang just giggled as she digested the examiner's sharp comments. 'I think I've been rumbled at last,' sighed Sir Peregrine when we called to inform him of his less than distinguished result. 'I'm suitably chastened. Although it doesn't altogether alter my opinion of media studies as a load of balls.'

[PANEL]
What the candidates and examiner said

BOTH candidates chose to answer the question: 'Discuss the view that news is produced and manufactured as a commodity.'

Candidate one: Sir Peregrine Worsthorne, aged 77.
Credentials: Ex-Sunday Telegraph editor, formerly with The Times.
From his paper: 'Not only do the media choose what to form into news, but they also tend to process their choices by adding artificial extras - extra drama, extra sex appeal, extra scandal ... and in the case of news, there is no law requiring the manufacturer to list the additives on the package. So 'News' is seldom what it claims to be, since the manufacturer - the broadcaster or newspaper - has usually, for commercial or ratings gain, transformed the raw material out of recognition. For example, a piece of gossip about the Royal Family that the Prince of Wales, say, is about to marry his mistress - is banged up from a possibility to a probability or even certainty. Particularly on Saturdays or in August, the temptation to dramatise the truth - ie, to turn fact into fiction - is well-nigh irresistible.'
The examiner's verdict: Borderline D/E. 'There is some attempt to build up a consistent argument but the response as a whole lacks precision and detail. Factual knowledge is accurate but there is no theoretical underpinning. The candidate makes some interesting points and analogies but there is not sufficient substance as ideas are not fully developed. Basic concepts such as news values and gatekeeping are referred to only tangentially. There should be an acknowledgement of theorists such as Galtung and Ruge and Tunstall. News agencies could also have featured.'

Candidate two: Kirsty Lang, aged 38.
Credentials: Channel 4 News presenter, ex-Newsnight reporter and Sunday Times correspondent in Paris.
From her paper: 'As to whether news is 'Manufactured' or made up for the titillation of the consumer: let's look at some of the stories dominating our headlines this August. The Hamiltons; British troops in Macedonia; the missing 15-year-old Danielle Jones; four hospital deaths caused by blocked oxygen tubes; a possible cure for CJD. Of all these stories, only the Hamiltons could possibly be 'Manufactured' - with the help of a PR agent. It's true that PR agents and government spin doctors are becoming more and more sophisticated at manipulating the media, but, equally, journalists and the public are becoming more cynical about what is put in front of them.'
The examiner's verdict: Grade C, just. 'Competent and conscientious. This candidate begins well but arguments needed to be developed more fully. The response trails off towards the end and the conclusion appears rushed. What is encouraging is the attempt to develop a coherent debate and also an attempt to differentiate between 'Tabloid' news and 'Quality' news, be it broadcast or in print. The candidate makes some solid points but tends to oversimplify in places. There are tangential references to theoretical concepts but these need to be more clearly explored and referenced. There is good use of specific detail to support the line of argument.'

(Evening Standard, August 21 2001)

Read more!

Evening Standard: Not-so-hard times for the celebrity bankrupts

Neil Hamilton stood outside his £1.25 million home this week and told how he likes to drink champagne at Claridge's. Yet, in May, he was declared bankrupt. He is not the only one to have thrived after going bust, discovers David Rowan

IT'S the hottest celebrity accessory of the summer - and for those lucky enough to have one it brings champagne soirees at Claridge's, shopping binges on the King's Road and new careers in music, film or books. Neil Hamilton's got one, Greg Martin was given one, and others who have had one include Michael Barrymore and Kim Basinger. It's called a bankruptcy order - and if you're well-enough connected, it can be your entree to the high life.

Just look at Neil Hamilton - once merely a government minister, but today glorifying in the splendid lifestyle of an undischarged bankrupt. Let's follow Neil's diary for 5 May, which he kindly provided this week. A pleasant day's shopping in Chelsea, stocking up on food, fine wines and camera film in advance of a summer holiday; a relaxed afternoon with Christine, preparing 'jellied bloody mary and baked fish' - mmm - and chilled champagne for a cosy dinner party; followed by some gorgeous drinks among friends in Claridge's, where a glass of bubbly costs from £8. Let that be a warning to all those considering defaulting on their debts.

It helps if you're well connected, of course. When Darius Guppy emerged from Ford open prison, having served time and gone bankrupt over £1.8 million owed after a jewel swindle, his pal Charlie Spencer lent him a five-bedroom house on the Althorp estate, and family friend Michael Alexander offered him a room in his Eaton Place house to help his writing career. Bless them all, we say. As the Government attempts to reduce the stigma of bankruptcy, we look at the public-spirited celebrities who have long been doing their bit.

Jonathan Aitken: BANKRUPT, May 1999

AITKEN declared himself bankrupt with assets of £40,000 and debts of £2.6 million to the Inland Revenue, Coutts, Granada Television and The Guardian. He tried to wiggle out of giving them 8 Lord North Street, what with Lolicia and the kids to support, but that's now been sold, as have his antiques. His books fetched nearly £8,000 at auction, though were mostly bought back for him by friends, so maybe they'll have a whip-round for the old house.

Aitken famously began the trend among senior Tories for being jailed over perjury. A new career looms as an adviser on prisoner rehabilitation, primarily in the form of newspaper articles addressed to Jeffrey Archer.

Greg Martin: BANKRUPT, March 2001

THE lothario and film producer (go on, bet you can't name one) was made bankrupt over a £1,861 bill owed to tax consultancy Chiltern International Services - hardly worth the court sitting. Presumably he was too busy proposing marriage to eligible young women to notice the bill: at the time, a former flatmate badmouthed him as 'a sexual predator' who had made a living from 'preying on vulnerable women'.

Martin hasn't had much help from his dad Sir George, with whom he's not on the best of terms, but has continued to use his connections and his charm to get by. No matter that Tara Palmer-Tomkinson called off their engagement after just 25 days (they met at Mick Jagger's birthday party), or that another potential bride denounced him as a man 'not to be trusted with women' - he's since proposed to a Sardinian-born waitress on a Eurostar train.

Kevin Maxwell: BANKRUPT, 1992 since DISCHARGED

THE big one: now discharged, he was at the time Britain's biggest bankrupt, with debts of £406 million, something to do with his dad's business.

The debts would have given him something to think about during his 121 days in the witness box over fraud charges (he was acquitted). After the papers photographed him signing on at a Didcot dole office in 1993 (wonder who tipped them off?), the ensuing publicity brought him 300 job offers, including consultancy work for a head hunter that paid £1,200 per introduction. He has since become a director of at least 24 British companies, eight of them facing insolvency, and well-paid chairman of troubled telecoms company Telemonde, which describes him as having 'an extensive senior management background in communications and media'. Just don't ask him for advice on your pension.

Count Tolstoy: BANKRUPT, 1990 since DISCHARGED

THE Count declared himself bankrupt, owing £1.5 million to Lord Aldington after writing a libellous pamphlet accusing him of war crimes. He said his assets were £20,000, though he remained in his substantial Oxford-shire house. Then last year, irony of ironies, the Count inherited a reported £1.5 million from his stepfather, the author Patrick O'Brian. But he didn't feel like paying Lord Aldington any of it. Unfortunately, Lord Aldington faced a further problem: he died soon after, something Count Tolstoy was quoted as being less than sad about.

Meanwhile, the Count, now discharged, spends much of his time issuing legal warnings to newspapers that publish articles with headlines such as 'The bankrupts who live like millionaires'.

Neil Hamilton: BANKRUPT, May 2001

FOUND himself owing Mohamed Fayed around £1.2 million after a little legal dispute over brown envelopes. He now lives a quiet, reclusive life in rural Cheshire, with wife Christine, shunning the media spotlight. As if.

In between breaching his own privacy with evermore press conferences,H amilton claims to drink champagne and go shopping in Chelsea. Christine's stake in their six-bedroom Nether Alderley house means it hasn't been sold, but there's pressure for that to change. 'Bankruptcy is a cleansing process,' declares Neil, who now saves money by no longer taking The Guardian and by avoiding Harrods.

Michael Barrymore: BANKRUPT, 1977, since DISCHARGED

FACED debts of £47,000, when a shop he owned with his then wife Cheryl went under. Barrymore, since discharged, learned his lesson, chose a quiet low-profile life, and never again allowed himself to get into the tabloids or come to the attention of the police. Well, maybe just a little.

William Stern: BANKRUPT, 1979, since DISCHARGED

AT the time, the property tycoon was Britain's biggest bankrupt, though he has since been discharged. He had debts of £118 million. Yet Stern bounced back and was soon happily building up loss-making companies again - so much so that a judge recently called him 'fundamentally irresponsible' and banned him from being a director for 12 years. The court heard that Stern had 'helped himself ' to at least £1.5 million from one of his companies, even though he knew it was going bust.

Bill Roache: BANKRUPT, 1999

ROACHE - better known as Ken Barlow - faced debts of £300,000 after suing The Sun for libel over claims that he was 'boring', and then suing his lawyers. It was never a good idea to sue Peter Carter-Ruck.

Roache declared himself bankrupt: the debts have grown to £600,000, despite his £166,000 salary and a recent attempt to become a pop star (with a rather bizarre mix of the sensuous Je t'aime and Elvis Presley's Teddy Bear, on which he raps: 'Spin, spin and let your hair down'). He is currently campaigning on an important human-rights issue, notably the Coronation Street management's 'devastating' plans to cut his pay by a quarter. Just don't call him boring.

Kim Basinger: BANKRUPT, 1993, since DISCHARGED

EIGHT years ago, the star of Batman and 9 1/2 Weeks, above, became an $8 million-a-movie actress. Unfortunately, this was the sum she was ordered to pay the film producers. She rather upset Main Line Pictures when she dropped out of Boxing Helena after expressing concern over nude scenes. The court case was of Hollywood proportions, with the producers' lawyers even trying to stop Basinger having children - as this would diminish the sum they might reclaim. Happily, she did get to give birth to a daughter, Ireland, with whom she now lives in Los Angeles, after splitting last December from her husband of seven years, Alec Baldwin. Now discharged, Basinger, a vegetarian, emerges occasionally to campaign for animal rights and to condemn the Stage Deli in New York for naming its bacon-and-chicken special 'the Kim Basinger Sandwich'.

(Evening Standard, August 17 2001)

Read more!

Evening Standard: The battle for the London radio listener

Who Turns On London?: The battle for the hearts and ears of this city is becoming increasingly acrimonious. David Rowan reports on the latest audience figures

NEXT time you retune your radio, take care: you're in a war zone now, and the conflict's just got dirtier. What appeared last week to be just another quarterly listening survey - the usual fog of statistics from the industry number-crunchers, Rajar - has provoked more fury than a Chris Evans three-day bender.

The first missile came from Emap Radio, claiming that its station Kiss 100 FM had now overtaken Capital in attracting 15- to 24-year-old males, a key market for advertisers. Within hours came Capital's counterattack, stating that Emap has 'been distorting the truth': when both sexes are brought into the equation, Capital is the true market leader among that age range.

There followed a press campaign by Capital questioning Kiss's very coolness, which Kiss went on to mock as the last shout of a decadent culture. Capital FM's Chris Tarrant: the station disputes claims that it is losing out in the youth market 'They're a bit like the Roman Empire splitting up, uncomfortable about becoming just another powerful nation state,' says Kiss MD Mark Story. 'Capital has become the establishment, and has got to move over.'

Certainly, Capital remains by far the biggest of London's radio broadcasters, drawing 3.6 million weekly adult listeners, or a 16.2 per cent audience share, with its FM, Gold and Xfm stations. Among almost 35 legitimate stations clamouring for Londoners' attention, Gold and FM may have gradually been losing audience share, but the first-mover advantage has clearly allowed Capital to maintain its dominance.

Kiss may have only 1.6 million weekly listeners, but its share of listening is growing all the time: from 3.3 per cent two years ago, to 4.3 per cent last year and 4.6 per cent in the most recent quarter. 'Capital has hit a point where it can't defend the territory it's set itself, the 15-to-50-year-olds,' says Story, himself a veteran of Capital and a former producer of Simon Mayo's Radio 1 breakfast show. 'You can't be all things to all people. Kiss is the gorilla fighting in their living room: every time we do something, it's their ornaments we smash.'

'Our competition has got smarter,' admits Elly Smith, head of press for the Capital Radio Group, 'but Capital FM still has a 28 per cent weekly reach and tends to be younger listeners' first choice. Even with all the choice in London, the average person only listens to 2.6 radio stations. They stay pretty loyal.'

But the national stations are reporting growing audience share in the London region. Radio 4 remains Londoners' favourite national station, with 2.6 million listeners, yet the revival of Radio 2 and Radio 1 have also been eating into Londoners' listening time. Radio 2 attracts 1.9 million Londoners each week, and Radio 1 takes 1.7 million. Classic FM added some 275,000 new listeners in the capital over the past three months, raising its reach here to more than 1.5 million. This, it is proud to note, makes it the city's third-largest commercial station.

ONE notable failure to gain Londoners' ears has been the BBC's local channel, London Live, which has just fallen to a paltry 0.8 per cent listening share, down from 1.2 per cent a year ago. This follows a rebranding of the station - it was formerly GLR - in March 2000, after what a spokeswoman calls 'an insidious and pretty terminal decline in listenership'.

ITN News Direct has dropped to a 0.6 per cent share since yet another rebranding, but its sister station, LBC 1152AM, saw its number of listeners per week rise by a third, though the station does not make the capital's top 10.

One other London station is facing its own particular worries. Premier Christian Radio is reaching 158,000 Londoners a week, more than three times Liberty's audience, with its mix of 'Christian music and personality programmes, presentations on Bible teaching, reflections, and Christian perspective on the news'.

Premier is campaigning to convince the Radio Authority to extend its broadcasting licence for a further eight years. Still, unlike the other commercial players, Premier has its own secret weapon. 'Please sign the petition today,' the station is now urging listeners. 'Then pray.'

[TABLE]
London radio: the top ten

Listeners aged 15+ in the three months to 24 June 2001, Source: Rajar/Ipsos-RSL Station

Weekly listeners (thousands)/Share of listening (%) 95.8 Capital FM 2,832/11.1

BBC Radio 4 (London only) 2,600/14.1

BBC Radio 2 (London only) 1,900/10.6

BBC Radio 1 (London only) 1,700/5.0

Kiss 100 FM 1,570/4.6

Heart 106.2FM 1,568/5.0

Classic FM (London only) 1,500/4.8

Virgin London 1,293/3.9

Magic 105.4 1,291/4.6

BBC Radio 5 Live (London only) 1,200/4.0

(Evening Standard, August 8 2001)

Read more!

Evening Standard: How Chris Morris hoodwinks his victims

This time it was paedophile 'Trust-me trousers', last time it was a fake drug and a zoo animal in peril. But how does Chris Morris manage to hoodwink celebrities and politicians into talking such nonsense on his show, Brass Eye? His victims talk to David Rowan

CHRIS Morris's investigations have performed a valuable public service. Before Brass Eye, few dared speak about the great scandal of modern society - the unfathomable gullibility of celebs when placed in front of a camera.

What magic vapours persuaded the DJ Neil Fox to tell Brass Eye that paedophiles and crabs shared the same genes? ('That is scientific fact. There is no real evidence for it, but it's scientific fact.') What mystical substances made Richard Blackwood explain that 'online paedophiles can actually make your keyboard release toxic vapours that make you more suggestible'?

We asked some of Morris's victims, past and present, how he persuaded them to perform on camera in his spoof specials:

Sir Bernard Ingham

Alongside Noel Edmonds, Bernard Manning and David Amess, Sir Bernard urged the nation's youth to say no to the drug 'cake' - a deadly pill, the size of afootball. 'The request came in a letter, asking if I would take part in a programme to persuade young people of the dangers of drugs. It was only when they came to film outside the Daily Express building that I began to wonder.

'I persevered with it, though, but had a feeling throughout my short interview that there was something very dodgy going on. When I got back to the office, I told colleagues there was something funny about it. The Daily Express tried to find out something about the programme, but every obstacle was put in its way. No calls were returned, and no one was at the address they'd given. I think it must have been a spoof address. We concluded that they were in the game of conning people - it was something nasty.

'I thought the programme-makers were a pretty amateur bunch, but obviously they weren't - that was all part of the act.'

David Amess, MP

The Tory was so enthusiastic in his support for publicising the dangers of 'cake' that he tabled an Early Day Motion on the peril. 'When you're an MP, the phone's going all the time. The approach from Brass Eye happened when Parliament was sitting. My office did check it out - I recall that there was a legitimate address on the letter, which turned out to belong to a dormant company. Because I'd been caught out before by a programme, I insisted that they'd have to come to the House of Commons to film.

'It was shortly after the death of Leah Betts, in my constituency, and it never occurred to me that anyone would try to trick their way into my confidence on such a very serious subject.

'I do not know the slang words for drugs - 'Cake' was the one the programme was about - and so when I tabled a parliamentary question about it, the civil servants answered it: because there was a drug called 'cake'. The people making the programme didn't realise this, so hadn't expected the question to be answered.

'Only when I saw it reported in the Evening Standard did I realise I'd been entirely duped. I complained to the Independent Television Commission (ITC), which ruled in my favour.'

Nick Owen

The broadcaster (not the ITN reporter of the same name, who was caught up in the recent paedophile special controversy) warned four years ago of the dangers of 'heavy electricity' falling on the Third World.

'People like me get swamped with invitations to help out with photo-shoots or charity fundraisers. If it helps, I usually say yes. Brass Eye sent me a letter from an address that seemed to make sense. It all seemed fairly authentic - people suffering in Sri Lanka, something to do with power surges. They approached me directly, and I rang the number to say I'd help with the appeal. I had no idea it was for a TV programme, I thought it was for some sort of video appeal to be played at a private corporate event. I only realised what had happened when I bumped into someone the day after the broadcast and they asked: 'What's all this about heavy electricity?' ' Was I misled? God, yes,very much so. It's made me question helping charities.'

Carla Lane

Joined Jilly Cooper and Britt Ekland to discuss the depressed elephant at London Zoo who had wedged its trunk up its own bottom. 'My experience was pretty awful. They wrote to me saying they were discussing very serious animal-welfare issues, and would I like to take part? Naturally, I went. But, as I waited to be called at the BBC in Wood Lane, I noticed I was on my own. Usually, you meet other people who are on a programme. I thought, 'That's strange'. I went to the studio, and they asked me the most foolish questions that were nothing to do with animal welfare.

'Then I remember the interviewer's moustache was moving slightly. I thought, 'Hang about', but I went on, as I'm a professional. The thing that really confused me was that I was in a BBC studio so I thought nothing could be allowed to go on there that wasn't above board.

'When I came out, I got a phone call from Lynsey de Paul (another guest), who was crying her eyes out. She'd realised what was happening to her, and had told them off in the middle. Until then, I hadn't thought it was a spoof. I just kept thinking, Carla, you're in the BBC. I rang the BBC later and found that their studio had been hired to make the programme. They had been duped too - they didn't know what I was talking about. Because I'm essentially broadminded, half of me was thinking 'That's the way things are now on TV, and you have to accept it'.

'I couldn't watch it, but my sister did and told me I came across as fairly intelligent, even though they were asking me to talk about an elephant that had its trunk stuck up its backside.'

Syd Rapson, MP

The Labour MP expressed his concern in last week's programme about 'trust-me trousers', designed to hide paedophiles' erections. He told Radio 4: 'I was approached to participate in a video which would be released to schools and young people to advise them on the dangers of the internet and its misuse by paedophiles.Three young men came along, very smartly dressed, and said they were doing it on behalf of Channel 4. I was completely taken in, they never mentioned Brass Eye - not that it w ould have meant anything to me.They were very courteous,very nice people.They show ed me internet footage. I couldn't believe some of the things they said.

'I refused to read aloud some of the scripts they gave me, because they just didn't make sense. But the ones I did get involved in, they show ed me the internet footage on their TV screen so that I would believe them.

'The worst thing was, in signing off the programme, we had to use gobbledygook language.They said that unless you used some of their terminology,young people w on't take it as credible. I was well and truly duped. I'm a bit embarrassed. I can live with that,but I'm annoyed at the w ay the deception was used.'

(Evening Standard, August 1 2001)

Read more!