As I exited the Today programme last week, my phone buzzed, indicating I had just received a text message. Which one of my friends was congratulating me on having just trounced another government minister? According to the LCD screen it was Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall! Hugh is an old Oxford contemporary whom I hadn’t heard from in years. What warm words did he have for me this morning?
‘You should have stayed in bed!’
This would not have been so galling if Hugh had not appeared on Desert Island Discs the week before. There is a scale of recognition in British public life — an unofficial honours system — and Desert Island Discs is undoubtedly near the top. That Hugh should have snatched this glittering prize before me is a cause of much gnashing of teeth, particularly as he was the year below me at Oxford. How much longer do I have to wait? Nicky Haslam was this week’s castaway, for gawd’s sake. To quote Max Bialystock in The Producers, who do I have to f*** to get a break in this town?
To date, I am only on the nursery slopes of this unofficial honours system. The bottom rung of the ladder is being on Question Time, something I achieved back in 2004. One of my fellow panellists was Lembit Opik and he told me afterwards that my life would be transformed by appearing on the programme. ‘Your colleagues will start treating you with a new-found respect,’ he said. ‘People you haven’t heard from in years will suddenly invite you out to dinner.’
In fact, it made no impact on my life at all. Unlike Piers Morgan, who appears on Question Time every other week, I’ve only been invited back twice in the five years that have followed. I can’t even boast of conquering a Cheeky Girl.
The next rung is being in Who’s Who, something I’ve also achieved — but again, it has made little difference. The expected invitation to a Buckingham Palace garden party has not materialised. Ed Vaizey has not asked me if I would consider being a governor of the BBC. No member of White’s has asked me to lunch.
I am convinced that I won’t be considered a fully fledged member of the establishment until I have appeared on Desert Island Discs. But how to achieve this? Is there some intermediate step between Who’s Who and sitting down opposite Kirsty Young that I am overlooking? Looking back at the people who have been on the programme this year, it is a mixture of scientists (Kay Davies, Athene Donald), actors (Brian Rix, Martin Shaw), comedians (David Walliams, Barry Humphries), politicians (Vincent Cable, Dennis Healey), businessmen (Harvey Goldsmith, Simon Murray), writers (Alan Sillitoe, Sebastian Faulks) and people in the news (Ruth Padel, Arlene Phillips). I don’t appear to be disqualified by my youthfulness (Hugh is younger than me), my lack of fame (Baroness Haleh Afshar?) or the paucity of my achievements (Richard Madeley?!?). What is the vital X-factor I am missing?
I suspect it may be that I don’t do enough for charity — or rather, I am not seen to do enough for charity. Last year, for instance, I competed in the London Duathlon to raise money for the Chelsea & Westminster Health Trust but I was very lacklustre about publicising it. The press coverage it got was a drop in the ocean compared to David Walliams’s cross-channel swim. The trick is to participate in some stunt that is then broadcast on BBC1. If the producers of Celebrity Apprentice are reading this, I want them to know I’m available.
Of course, appearing on Desert Island Discs probably won’t turn out to be the ultimate stamp of approval I am hoping for. My invitation to Sir David Frost’s summer party will still get lost in the post. When it does eventually happen — and it is surely not a question of if, but when — I will simply switch my attention to the next rung in the public recognition ladder, namely, appearing as a waxwork in Madame Tussauds. This, surely, is the pinnacle of achievement in the unofficial honours system — the equivalent of being made a Knight Grand Cross in the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George. With luck, they’ll have to melt down the wax figure of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall in order to make mine.
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