Virtual talent

I’ve created an imaginary “talent basket” for people with imaginary talent. To be internet trendy I might call it “virtual talent”. The idea is to have a balloon debate, chucking out those with the least talent, leaving anyone who has real talent in the basket.

Here are a few candidates: Jade Goody, Heather Mills, Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards, Piers Morgan, Pete Doherty, Liz Hurley, Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst. Who should go and who should be saved?

Jade Goody and Tracey Emin, as far as I can see, have no talent whatsoever. Of these two, I think I would chuck out Emin first simply because - although I can’t find any evidence of her ever having said so - she believes she may have some talent. Jade Goody, on the other hand, I’m sure, has never given it much thought.

Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards had guts, no doubt about that, but there wasn’t any talent, not even any showmanship. He simply launched himself down a ramp with a pair of skis, bounced over the edge and fell over. So he has to go.

Heather Mills has a famous ex-husband-to-be but not much discernible talent as far as I can see. Out she goes. Liz Hurley? Like Mills she has good looks. Specifically she has a big chest that was shown off in a Versace dress with gold safety pins which she wore when accompanying her then boyfriend, Hugh Grant, to a film premier in 1994. Thus she became famous. But does she have talent? Well not as an actress, her chosen profession. For superior acting talent pick any one of the Woodentops. Goodbye Liz.

So what about Piers Morgan, former daily Mirror editor? I would contest that Morgan does have some talent. Not much; certainly nowhere near enough to edit a national newspaper. He has plenty of chutzpah which you could say of most of these people. In fact they are brimming over with chutzpah. But talent has to be more than that. Sorry Mr Morgan, I just don’t think that “a little bit more talent than Jade Goody” is quite enough to secure your place in this balloon basket. Out you go.

That leaves Pete Doherty and Damien Hirst. My eldest son tells me that Pete Doherty has some talent because “he writes good lyrics”. Some say he’s a poet because he steals lines from people like Emily Dickinson.

This is a bit from a song called Stix and Stones:

“They said that I was as good as dead
And there was hope, but not for us together
My friend, oh my friend, oh my true friend, my phony friend
Oh well you know that that's the end, that's the end,
so far away down, down.”

Great lyrics? Poetry? Whoops, he’s out of the basket. And that leaves Damien Hirst. I do think that Hirst has some talent. His spot paintings were original and nicely arranged, as were Jackson Pollock’s paintings. Even the dead animals Hirst suspended in formaldehyde had some originality in the arrangement. So what about his pill boxes on pharmacy shelves? No. They were just pill boxes on pharmacy shelves.

Comparing greatness in art is the hardest thing. How do you compare Michelangelo with Monet, or Vermeer with Rothko? Impossible. But all were talented. Against all my expectations when I started this blog, I’m going to leave Hirst in the talent basket for his spot paintings alone. I might be wrong here, confusing fame with talent as many do. But there you go.

If I can think of any other potential talent basket rejects I will list them here in the weeks to come. Or list some yourself. But the idea is that they have some fame. I’m looking for people whose fame and earnings (on the back of their imaginary talent) have surpassed their real talent by some margin.

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson would be a difficult candidate since she does have real talent as a classical pianist but she is famous for being famous, not as a pianist. I would argue that there is some honesty in that. She is not pretending to be an artist or a poet and that thought has led me to another candidate: Yoko Ono. There must be many more.

British Library - balancing the books

Criticising landmark developments is the great British disease. The Channel Tunnel, the Millennium Dome, Wembley Stadium - they never had a chance. Now it's the turn of the Olympic complex. We wanted the Olympics in the UK. I remember cheering when I heard we had won the bid. But already the carping has started. Any big project such as this is going to incur cost overruns. It goes with the territory.

Do you remember how people criticised the British Library as a white elephant? It cost £500m and took 20 years to build from concept to opening. Even Prince Charles couldn't resist a jibe, describing it as a "secret police building." He was wrong. The British Library is a magnificent building, particularly on the inside which must offer some of the best facilities for undertaking concentrated work that I have found anywhere.

Part of its secret is what is not there: no telephones, no interruptions, no noise. Instead there is comfortable seating with strong, broad desks and an efficient ordering and delivery service. More than that, for those of us who use it,the service is a tangible return for the money we pay in taxes.

A well stocked, efficient library, offering free access to those of a nation's citizens who wish to read and research in quiet contemplation must form the bedrock of any reasonable definition of civilization. The only improvement that could and should be made to the British Library is to extend its reading services to other locations outside London.

But this isn't going to happen. What should be part of our birthright, the principle of unfettered access to one of the world's greatest collections of the written word, is under threat. The British Library has warned that it might need to start charging readers for its services, if the Treasury goes ahead with proposed cuts to its budget.

I hope this is no more than posturing, the sort of heavyweight barging that always takes place when Government departments are competing for their slice of the pie. My reading pass is a treasured possession. I love the British Library in the same way that I love the British Museum and the National Gallery. I love them most of all because their doors are open, offering free entry to all who visit.

You might run the world's biggest company and rub shoulders with the power elite every year in Davos, but if you want to see the Wilton Diptych or Vermeer's Young Woman seated at a Virginal you will have no better view than the man on the Clapham omnibus.

Last week the Government was starting a debate on Britishness. For me it starts with fair play and free access. The British Library didn't charge Lenin or Marx. I hope it won't charge me.