Crop circles - the Woking connection

If you have used the Google search engine today (15.9.09) you may be wondering why the word Google is featured as a series of crop circles. The Guardian has some ideas, suggesting it might be part of a viral marketing campaign.

It also says there's a tweet from Google giving the co-ordinates of Horsell common in Woking, Surrey. This was the spot that H. G. Wells chose as his Martian landing site in War of the Worlds.

Woking has celebrated its literary fame with some Wellsian sculptures in what is otherwise the dreariest of town centres.

The next thing, I suppose, will be to have a brown sign on the M25 pointing to "H. G. Wells country" and an H. G. Wells interpretation centre on Horsell common with sound effects and even more Martian mock ups in situ for those without a scintilla of imagination.

Sadly it was only fiction. It wasn't Martians that destroyed the place but a borough council with all the aesthetic vision and sensitivity of the Vogon Constructor Fleet.

The Martians are coming.....

Watching the Andy Murray match on TV yesterday, I heard someone from the crowd shout: "Come on Nadal." Someone else shouted "Come on Henman." It perplexed the commentators. What was going on?

Later,the story of Michael Jackson's death broke on the celebrity website TMZ. Other news stations took time to verify his death and produced some balanced reporting. It's important to do so today because all kinds of hoaxes are spread around the web.

Before the night had ended there were reports that actors Jeff Goldblum and Harrison Ford had also died. Goldblum was supposed to have fallen off a cliff while filming in New Zealand. Funnily enough this was how Tom Hanks was reported to have died in 2006 as the Snopes website revealed.

Why do people start such rumours? I suppose that some find starting a story that is spread by millions intoxicating, instilling a sense of power - a bit like kicking off a Mexican wave.

The hoaxers may think of these stories as harmless but it wouldn't have been a joke if you were a relative of Goldblum or Hanks and you saw their death being reported on the news wires (yes, some stations did put out the rumour without checking).

The power of the viral is worrying. On its own, in a single medium, I don't think it's enough to cause mayhem. But imagine a situation if a dangerous rumour was co-ordinated across the various media.

In 1938, when people relied for their news on radio and newspapers, Orson Welles broadcast a version of H.G Wells' War of the Worlds that relied on realistic radio bulletins of a Martian invasion for dramatic effect. While the scale of the ensuing panic is debated today, if you imagine tuning in to the broadcast at about 2 minutes 30 seconds onwards (no need to imagine, try it here), you can see how some people may have allowed their anxieties to get the better of them, triggering hysteria.

The broadcast caused outrage because it betrayed a sense of trust people had placed in the broadcast media. It demonstrates why the BBC, of all stations, must take scrupulous care with its bulletins. It wields extraordinary power of influence that it cannot afford to abuse.

Mass hysteria is a strange phenomenon which I have experienced just once in my life - after hearing of the death of Princess Diana. I felt a real sense of grief on the day of her funeral, yet I only saw her once and never met her, and afterwards felt embarrassed by my emotions, almost in denial as intellectually they were simply illogical, but I know they were real.

Many years ago I interviewed a Ukrainian man who had been in the German army on the Russian front during World War II. As the war ended, he and his comrades deserted their trenches under protection of a barrage and headed west as fast as they could in order to surrender either to the British or the Americans. Coming out of a wood, someone shouted "the Russians are coming." One man put a gun to his head and shot himself, such was the fear of being taken. But the Russians didn't come. It had been a cry of panic.

What would make us panic today? Reports of a dirty bomb over a city? Co-ordinated bulletins about an impending asteroid collision? The swine flu reports probably caused undue anxiety and yet the threat was real and remains so. Suppose the media could have launched a Tsunami warning ahead of the Boxing Day 2004 disaster that killed 230,000 people? The earthquake occurred several hours before the wave struck most coasts. Would people have heeded warnings?

The more hoaxes we experience, the more cynical we are likely to become. That's fine until a real emergency comes along. In the meantime, if you happen to be in Wimbledon watching Andy Murray's next match and the chap next to you shouts: "Come on Henman," just give him a slap and tell him not to be so silly. It's the only way.

War of the boats

I have always enjoyed "doing" journalism where you immerse yourself in whatever it is you're writing about. So writing about the forthcoming America's Cup this week from the end of a telephone has been a bit frustrating.

Typically I'd find myself speaking with a team skipper or manager and they'd say "Why don't you come down?" assuming I'm somewhere in Valencia where all the crews and yachts are gathered. "I'm in Woking," I say.

Martian invaders

Woking is not known for its glamorous ocean sailing. In fact it's not known for anything other than its setting for H G Wells War of the Worlds. Old H G must have had it in for Woking. I don't blame him. The town council has done a much better job of wrecking the place than could ever have been achieved by Martian invaders.

So I call these bosses of multi-million euro funded yacht-racing teams and what do they do? They complain about money. They never have enough. These are the "poor" teams with less than €50m to throw around although I heard the same complaints from one with upwards of €60m. The top teams have more than €100m to play with so they don't complain so much.

Team tough

The Emirates Team New Zealand isn't complaining. In fact it isn't saying anything. The so-called "team tough" has gone to ground, locking itself away in its compound. That must be great news for the sponsors who invest van-loads of dosh in these teams for the kind of worldwide media exposure that would be guaranteed if they were only to take a call from Woking.

In reality I don't mind being in Woking. I hate glamour events that are not at all glamorous when you're doing them. Well, I suppose they're a bit glamorous. Last year I had the chance to sit at the back of ABN Amro, the Volvo Ocean Race winner when it raced off the Isle of Wight. There is a lot of razzmatazz on the pontoon but out on the water the crew just gets on with the job.

Afterwards, when things have calmed down and you get to chat to people you find that everyone has the same concerns. These crews have this immense drive to compete but when the competition is over they just want to be with their families and friends, having a chat and a laugh together.

Broken mast

I'd hate to have a microphone-poking job. I detest the cult of celebrity that corrupts human relationships. Maybe the New Zealand team has the right approach but it can't be squared with the media/advertising/marketing machine that underpins so much funding in this event that it allows teams like Alinghi, the defending champion, to accumulate 16 masts. Two yachts and 16 masts? How many do they expect to break? I suppose the answer to that is 15 at a stretch.

The +39 Challenge (the boat with the strangest name - it never did get a big name sponsor) has just the one mast and it has been broken into three pieces. The race is on to repair it. Alinghi generously offered it one of their masts but other teams objected. What ever happened to sportsmanship and the Corinthian spirit?

I like the +39 team made up partly from world class dinghy sailors who compete fiercely against each other in world championship and Olympic events but who have banded together for what has turned out to be a sparsely funded entry racing hand-to-mouth.

Clapham omnibus

The America's Cup is big - as big as it gets. Yet how many of those on the Clapham omnibus have any idea how the racing works? I'm supposed to know yet it beats me. First of all there are some races called "acts" where everyone is racing, including the defending champion. Points (but not a lot) are awarded that are carried through to round robin races that are the start of the Louis Vuitton Cup. With me so far?

To recap: first over about two years there are a series of races (in a bit of sea, this time off Valencia in Spain) that don't count for too many points. These are used to generate media interest, check out the opposition and to build first rate teams. Next there is the Louis Vuitton Cup in which the defender of the America's Cup cannot take part. This is because the Louis Vuitton Cup is held to find the challenger.

Only then, when the rest of the field has been eliminated, does the best-of-nine duel between the defender, Alinghi, and challenger (the Louis Vuitton cup holder) begin. Once the America's Cup has been secured the next defence is determined by agreement with potential challengers. For more explanation of the whole event and its history read this.