The universe and nuclear submarines (yep, a BIG subject!)

This is a shortened version of my Bath Chronicle column of February 21.


Allow me to say something that may shock you . And that is that the universe we live in is BIG. No, not just big but pretty damn massive. Think of the biggest thing you can think of and then multiply it by the biggest number you can think of and you might go some way to understanding just how big the word big can actually represent.


The reason I feel the need to express this so very loudly is because last week our galaxy suddenly seemed very small indeed - more of a Galaxy bar than an infinite Milky Way (if you get my drift). This occurred to me when I heard that two communications satellites had managed to crash into each other in space.













What I can’t get my head round is why, if our galaxy is approximately 100,000 light years in diameter, contains 200 billion stars and could be anything up to 1,000 light years ‘thick’, then how come two tiny satellites still managed to crash? With all that space to play with, it is surely impossible for two independent satellites to crash and need the space equivalent of the AA to help them?


I was just about getting to grips with this mindboggling accident when I picked up a paper and read about a recent crash in the mid-Atlantic between British and French nuclear submarines. Now, I know the seas and oceans of the Earth are not exactly of space-like proportions, but let’s not forget they too could reasonably be called ‘big’. There is billions of gallons of water swishing around by our land forms, so how did two nuclear submarines somehow manage to collide in the midst of all that? As Jon Snow pointed out on the news, I know these things haven’t got any windows but this is ridiculous . . .













And there’s another small, tiny, minuscule thing about this issue which also worried me. And that is the word ‘nuclear’. It has been revealed that these British and French submarines (whose sat-navs sound as bad as the cheap one I bought before Christmas), were carrying enough material to carry out (wait for it) 1,248 Hiroshima-size bombings. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem that funny any more does it? Put simply, this could have been the transport accident that may have ended the world. Barmy.


So, what does the fact that it is dangerous to go under the sea and into space (let alone on the local roads!!) tell us? What it tells us is simply that what will be, will be. All the planning in the world simply can’t account for the fact that there is simply no such thing as the impossible.


The chairwoman of CND said this week that what occurred under the Atlantic was a “nuclear nightmare of the highest order”. Just read those words again and ask yourself ‘if that was the case, how come fewer column inches have been devoted to our near-oblivion than the recent dusting of snow’?


Crazy world, isn’t it?


Oh, and perhaps not that big after all . . .

Shock horror...Slumdog wouldn't get my Oscar

Sunday is of course Oscar day and all the talk is that Slumdog Millionaire will walk away with the big prizes (unless that rather dreary looking Benji Button film beats it).

Well, it wouldn't get my vote from the available choices and I sense that is almost heretical at the moment in some quarters in the UK.

Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed the Indian feast that is the Millionaire movie...but I just thought there were better movies last year.

For those who haven’t seen the movie yet, Slumdog is billed as a 'feel-good' film but I just don't get that at all as it features torture, child poverty, abuse, murder and many dark moments. Just because something has a happy ending and a few laughs on the way, doesn’t mean it is a feel-good film.

The reason we love this film is because it takes you, literally and metaphorically, to a different place. And that is the escapism we all crave in Credit Crunch City.

For the record, however, I would argue that one of the other big winners at the BAFTAs, The Reader, is an even better film. Kate Winslet is absolutely wonderful in this challenging film and it is worth the entry fee alone to see her wrestle with her conscience as it is revealed that she has a horrible Nazi past.

It is up against Millionaire and Benji and others for the top gong so it won't win sadly but let us hope the Academy see sense and resist Angelina Jolie's charms to give 'Dame' Kate (only a matter of time!!) the actress award she deserves.

As it happens, although not nominated for the top Oscars, I also thoroughly enjoyed three other films last year in what may just have been a vintage year.

I loved Batman movie The Dark Knight (I don't normally rave about superhero flicks but this was outstanding), The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas (a film which made my entire family cry) and In Bruges which was a fantastic black comedy and a real cult movie in the making.

Oh and even though not many others did, I want to reserve my last praises for Valkyrie, the story of the 1944 plot to kill Hitler. That is a cracking movie which didn't get the credit it deserved because of the bizarre anti-Tom Cruise feeling that abounds in some quarters. A real shame that because he, and the rest of the cast (especially the extraordinary Bill Nighy) really made this great story come alive.

Crunch or no crunch, we NEED entertainment

This is a truncated version of my Bath Chronicle column of February 12

Last Tuesday morning at the latest of our excellent Bath Chronicle business breakfasts, we enjoyed an entertaining talk by Alex Timms about how he is trying to put a smile on the city’s face with the launch of the first Bath Comedy Festival, which begins (appropriately enough) on April 1.

In many ways it could be argued that at a time of such economic doom and gloom, this sort of festival might seem like a good idea but at precisely the wrong time. There is no money around, you could say, and let’s face it, there’s not much for us to laugh about either.

But, quite contrary to this, it could be that the festival is arriving at exactly the right time.

And that is because when the going gets tough we tend to get going. Going, that is, on the lookout for something that will feed our need for escapism and fun.

Towards the end of Tuesday morning’s session, Nod Knowles, from the Bath Festivals, reported that despite the economic situation which has affected everyone from prince to pauper, ticket sales for the forthcoming literature festival are better than ever.

In addition, I was delighted as a keen fan of both film and the Little Theatre, to see our report that this superb cinema had its most successful week ever in January.

The signs are therefore clear – when money is tight, people are still prepared to dig deep to find ways to cheer themselves up and, for that reason, the idea of a comedy festival in the bleak midwinter of our economic gloom suddenly seems very logical.

Of course, people will only turn up for entertainment if it is of good quality and that is where the literature festival, the Little Theatre, the comedy festival and indeed the Theatre Royal (have you seen their latest fantastic, star-studded programme?) have scored.

When every penny counts, every event must be of a standard to get us to part with that cash and it seems all the local entertainment providers have taken up residence on Quality Street.

But can a comedy festival or indeed a dance, singing, music or fringe one really work in a climate where there are more tears than cheers?

The answer is an emphatic yes because we need quality art, quality culture and great escapism now more than ever.

Salute the 'rock of ages'

This is an edited version of my column in the Bath Chronicle of Thursday, February 5.

On Thursday morning, I will be sitting on a hot, sweaty coach bound for the delights of Paris surrounded by around 80 old punk rockers who really should know better.

For, as I’ve mentioned in my Bath Chronicle column many times, I am a devoted (or as some would say ‘dangerously obsessive’) fan of those delightful musicians called The Stranglers and over the next couple of days I will be joining a double-decker bus worth of fellow stalkers and groupies in following the band to see them in concert in both France and Belgium.

This trip has been organised by one of the band’s biggest and most committed fans, Owen, who thought he may get a little bit of interest in the idea of a European road trip but was duly overwhelmed at the response from fellow fanatics.

The fact that those of us in our 40s are still willing to laugh in the face of the credit crunch and indulge our teenage-borne passion proves that rock music is now like classical and jazz in that there is simply no age limit to enjoying the art.

Once upon a time rock and pop were regarded as the preserve of the young but nowadays that concept has been well and truly blown apart and I regard this as very good news.

Put simply, I never want to “grow out” of loving high quality rock music and trust me, oh reader, there is no greater quality than the might of The Stranglers.

And it is not only the fans who are ignoring their birth certificates in all of this because most of the bands are ‘knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door’ themselves. The Stranglers youngest member has only been with them for around eight years and is a mere boy at the age of 44 but the bassist and keyboard player are comfortably into their 50s while our ultimate hero, Stranglers drummer Jet Black, is now 70. Seventy is an age where many think of the pipe and the slippers rather than the base drum and the hiatt but nothing seems to stop ‘young’ Jet and this enthusiasm is symptomatic of the fact that rock no longer belongs only to those with youth club membership.

If you wanted any further proof, last week I bought the new album by another of rock’s elder statesman – Bruce Springsteen – and it is an absolute joy from the start to finish.

Although he is heading for bus pass territory, Springsteen gives not a hint of failing powers and in many ways his new album is as fresh, uplifting and exciting as any he has done. Age simply cannot whither his infinite variety.

So as I toodle across Europe this week I do so safe in the happy thought that I’ve got at least another 20 or 30 years of this to come. Lovely.

A trip to Downing Street.....

This is an updated version based on my Bath Chronicle column of January 28.

On Wednesday night I had the supreme pleasure of walking through the door of the most famous house in Britain - 10, Downing Street. And also, while I was there, the rare chance to meet and talk to the man who calls it home.

Like most newspaper editors, I am very fortunate indeed that I get invited to represent the paper at a wide variety of events.

In a city such as Bath where there is just so much going on, I’m normally only able to accept about one in three of the invitations I receive but I am always incredibly grateful that the paper is considered so important to local life that I find myself on a lot of invite-lists to community events big and small.

I try not to get too blasé or complacent about any invitations I get and to treat each one with equal respect but the one inviting your humble Bath Chronicle editor to a regional media reception with the Prime Minister was one that definitely made me smile.

As I’m sure many people will be aware, the local newspaper industry like so many others, is having rather a tough time at the moment and so I was very pleased that Mr Brown had got together a number of members of our profession so we could talk about the regional press. After all our problems are very similar to that of many companies and we as editors were there to represent not only our own profession but also the cities and communities we passionately serve.

I got to chat to the 'Big Man' for about five minutes along with a couple of other editors and he came over as someone with a real weight on his shoulders but with a genuine sense of commitment to see the country through its difficult times. Occasionally he went almost into a public speech mode even though these were private conversations (i.e he declared ‘we are in the midst of a global banking crisis etc…)’ but I still felt he had integrity and he listened to, and cared about, our various concerns.

He also wasn’t alone amidst the ranks of the regional press. During the night we also saw Alistair Darling (who looks far younger than he does on TV), Margaret Beckett, Jacqui Smith and various other senior Labour-ites including the somewhat unmistakeable figure of the ever smiling Hazel Blears.

Just as exciting for me was we had got chatting to a number 10 press officer before GB arrived and she took on us an on exclusive tour of all the state rooms and then (even better) the cabinet room. That was fascinating to think of the decisions (life and death, war and peace etc) that have been made in that room and it was also interesting to see the quirky thing that while every other chair is placed firmly under the desk, tradition demands that the desk the PM sits in is always out and at a specific angle. Curious.

On the way out we managed to get a quick snatched pic with our mobile outside number 10 but as you can see it was so dark and it isn’t a great pic.

Still, I will dine out on on my 'ten out of Number 10' trip for some time!

History at school, history on TV and embarrassing my kids

This is a version of my column from the Bath Chronicle of January 21.


Like every parent, I’m aware there are times when I embarrass my children.
Of course I don’t mean to do it (indeed I desperately try to avoid doing it) but I guess it is just something in the ‘job spec’ of being a parent.

In my case, the most recent example of leaving one of my children with a red face came at a school parents’ evening. Such was the embarrassment factor apparently that my son duly declared I was banned from ever attending a parents’ evening again – a wish I’m afraid he may be disappointed to discover will not come true.

The problem I have at such evenings is that like everyone I had my own favourite school subjects and having a chance to talk about these lessons now and see how they have developed is always fascinating as you compare it to your own school experiences.

For me the biggest problem area is history. For some reason, which I no longer understand, I never studied history after O-level and I’ve always regretted this because I absolutely love history and I can’t get enough of it these days.

So, just like the parent who always wanted to be a footballer and now transfers that ambition to standing on the touchline screaming at his children so they can live his dreams, I really want my children to take the same interest in history as I do and I love hearing about what they’re studying. And that, apparently, is very embarrassing.

The thing I’ve always drilled into my children is that history is not, despite its title, a thing of the past. Nearly every major historical event that is studied at school or beyond affects the way we live today and that is why I feel an understanding of history is essential in trying to find answers to modern-day problems.

Of course, what can help make history even more relevant to youngsters is when they feel they are actually ‘living in it’ – and trust me that is exactly what they are doing now.

In 50, 100 or 150 years, youngsters will, I guess, still be studying the rise of Hitler, the impact of Henry VIII on our religious make-up and the causes of the Russian Revolution, for example.
But, I suspect they will also be looking into the great economic crisis of 2008/2009 and, of course, the reasons why the greatest power on earth (at the time) elected an African- American President just 40 years after that same nation had visible pockets of apartheid still operating.

You know when you’re living through history when people stop what they’re doing to follow an event. Many people in the generation older than me will say they can remember exactly where they were when they heard JFK was shot and I’m sure the same will apply to my generation when we are asked in the future about the death of Diana, the dreadful events of 9/11 or the day that Barak Obama became President.

In our office we have a number of TVs to keep up to date with breaking news throughout the day but they are normally on ‘mute’ as we let the pictures and the subtitles tell us the stories. But, on Tuesday, the volume went up, pens were put down and people listened to an Obama speech that will have been watched with equal fascination in Beijing and Beirut as it was in Baltimore and Boston.

It was one of those rare collective experiences borne out of the fact that we all knew something special was happening and we wanted to share in a genuine historical event.

And that, of course, is why I find history to be such a living subject. What is happening in the Oval Office, the banking industry and the Middle East at the moment will all be major chapters in future history books but what makes the future study of the subject even more exciting is that the sheer scale and variety of media available to us now means that the next batch of students will have an incredible wealth of information to help them.

So, history is as much a part of the future as it is of the past – and that is why I just can’t help myself from talking about it when I meet my children’s teachers.

Sorry guys.

Using Big Brother to solve all our problems

This is an edited version of my column in the Bath Chronicle of 15 January.

I came to the surprising conclusion this week that there may be a very simple way to solve the majority of our problems - be they local, national or international. And bizarrely, perhaps, it was reality TV that gave provided that Eureka moment.

OK, reality TV isn't to everyone's taste (although have you noticed that many people who pooh-pooh Big Brother and I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here for example still enjoy the likes of Strictly Come Dancing or The Apprentice which are cut from the same cloth?) but it just may help the world too...

It was while watching the admittedly rather dreary ‘Celebrity’ Big Brother this week that it struck me just how incredibly boring it must be for those who are caught up in this curious jail without bars. Each night we are shown an hour’s worth of ‘highlights’ which are supposed to be the best bits of 24 hours of conversations, tasks, debates, arguments and philosophical discussions. And yet many of these so-called highlights are mind-numbingly trivial which begs the question – what were the other 23 hours like?

The reason that the people involved find it so hard to keep their own pulses racing (let alone ours) is because life inside such an environment lacks all the ingredients that normally make life interesting and challenging. Most of us find our source of debate and conversational interest is centred around the things that all the housemates are deliberately deprived of – their families, their friends, their hobbies, their jobs, sport and, of course TV, newspapers, films and all other forms of media and entertainment.

But what if it was different? What if that free time was used for what they called in Hot Fuzz - “the greater good”?

There are so many issues in our city, our country and the world as a whole that need the sort of full and undivided attention that the equivalent of the Big Brother house could offer, that I can’t help thinking that the Big Brother concept is wasted on the Big Brother contestants. Just imagine if we threw out all the fading pop stars, wannabees-who-will-neverbees and has-beens-who-were-never-really even ‘been-beens’ and put into this locked, distraction-free house a group of experts with a real, important task – one where they would not get “voted out” until they had solved it?

Imagine, for example, in a local sense, if we were to put all the key players in the city involved in transport into the Big Brother house, switched off the TV cameras (so they were not playing to them) and not allow anybody out until they got a workable plan for the city’s transport future? Perhaps they could find a way of avoiding the traffic pictured here....

And if we can do it with transport in Bath then we can do it with everything from world peace to why can’t Gerrard and Lampard play in the same team together.

The idea has certainly worked before. In the 1970s, when unions and bosses were forever at each other’s throats, I can remember that all-powerful organisation called Acas being used to find compromises, and they worked round the clock to find them.

More recently, I recall reading Alistair Campbell’s diaries about the Blair years when he talked about the historic agreement in Ireland which was forged in similar circumstances where people locked themselves in a room and didn’t come out until they had something tangible. He refers to former president Bill Clinton being asked to talk to people in the middle of the night to keep things on track. and that is exactly the kind of “no -one gets outta here until we’ve achieved something” policy that I think could have some legs.

So, as you look around the world and see problems, why not join me in putting forward the idea that a possible solution lies within the most talked about reality house in Britain?

Could it work? As Big Brother would say - you decide!!!