Where are the brains to fight the cyber wars?

AS the sodden folk of Somerset thrash around for someone to blame for their biblical-style inundation, the Almighty seems to have come out of it rather well. Our ancestors would have assumed it was the Lord's work, as punishment for our sins. These days, the Environment Agency takes the flak.

LIFE was much simpler in the old days. I recall reading through a newspaper archive from 1806. The verdict in almost every inquest was: "Death by the visitation of God." Pretty much covers everything.

WE recognise people not only by their eyes and mouth but by the rest of their face, the ears, hairline and shape of the head. This may explain why the male of the species, wearing the ubiquitous black knitted, tea-cosy effect woollen hat, passes unrecognised in the street, even by folk who have known him for years. My apologies, Norman.

IN the increasingly frantic attempt to keep English courts firmly in the 18th century, the new Crime and Courts Bill will introduce jail terms for members of a jury who pry into their case on the internet. But what if the juror simply happens to overhear a conversation in a pub on the lines of: "I was looking up that defendant on Google and he's a right rogue"? What if a friend happens to mention some damning detail about the accused they have found on the net? We live in an online, open and informed world where information appears before your eyes and ears - whether you want it or not. You simply cannot jail people for living in such a world. It is up to our ancient legal system to adapt to this new world, not the other way around.

BUSINESS Secretary Vince Cable's dire warning about the threat of cyber attacks on Britain's banking and infrastructure came on the 70th anniversary of the mighty Colossus computer being switched on at Bletchley Park, the wartime code-busting centre. It was a reminder that, in order to defeat Nazi Germany, the Allies had not only to outfight the enemy but to out-think him. Bletchley created a war-winning centre of brainpower, bringing together some of the brightest and most eccentric people. But back then we had a society where cleverness was admired and encouraged. Gifted kids, no matter how humble their background, were seen not as geeks, boffs or nerds but as a great national asset. Harry Hinsley, working-class son of a Walsall miner and a school caretaker, was educated at the local grammar school, won a scholarship to Cambridge and became one of the top men at Bletchley Park, working with a team whose sheer cleverness is reckoned to have shortened the war by two years. Seventy years on, let us imagine that the quirky, complex brain needed to help Britain survive the cyber wars of the 21st century has just been born on a typical inner-city estate. What are the chances, in today's educational system, of that gifted child being recognised, fast-tracked and given all the help that Harry Hinsley was? About zero?

IF YOU need proof of how much our attitude to intelligence have changed, in the 1940s and 1950s one of the most popular radio programmes was the Brains Trust. Imagine a producer trying to sell that to his bosses in today's dumbed-down Britain.

FOR all the rain, summer must come and those of us with boats spend these winter weeks fettling them up for long, hot days with balmy breezes. Inevitably we need ropes and shackles. The moment you start searching for such items on the internet, you find yourself in some very dodgy areas of human behaviour. Can anyone at eBay explain why 10mm braided rope for sailing is more expensive than identical 10mm braided rope for bondage?