At 10, all they want is to be astronauts

The Schools Secretary, Ed Balls, has decided that primary schools will start giving careers advice to children as young as 10.

This, he hopes, will help see off the "old boys" network and counteract the unfair advantages middle-class children have over those from poorer backgrounds. Will it, though?

No question something needs doing in this department. Only 55 per cent of 15- to 16-year-olds received formal careers advice last year, compared to 85 per cent in 1997. That's not good.

But the corrective is surely to increase the advice available to teenagers, not spread the careers service yet thinner by rolling it out to 10-year-olds.

It is one of the immutable laws of puberty that what you wanted to do when you were 10 will bear no relation whatever to what you want to do when you are 14. More than that, it seldom bears much relation to what you will be able to do when you are 14.

One imagines a collection of weary but well-meaning professionals fielding enquiries about career opportunities in space exploration, stunt-driving, pop stardom, deep-sea exploration, espionage and being a princess.

"Astronaut? Do you know how much physics you need for that? Sorry. What's physics? Never mind. Let's just say it's — take that crayon out of your ear. It's what? It's stuck? Christ. Look, kid. How do I make this simple? Most astronauts can tie their own shoelaces. You might need to aim lower. YES I know they wear boots in SPACE.

"It's a figure of sp... Oh never mind. Here's another crayon. See if you can draw me a picture of a DUSTMAN. Very good. That's a job application right there."

That's no fun for anyone concerned. But if careers advice at 10 is blandly encouraging as common humanity demands it be, it will be a waste of time and money: forgotten by the time it becomes relevant, or if not forgotten most likely the source of regret.

I'm all for less-academic teenagers being steered towards vocational qualifications, and more academic teenagers being given the encouragement to go where their abilities lead them regardless of background. Let's have practical careers advice made available to all. But 10 is too young.

Children in the generation now growing up, thanks to their parents' abominable and greedy mismanagement of the economy are in all likelihood going to have to work until the age of 85 to have any hope of retiring with a pension.

Couldn't we let them wait until puberty has passed before we bully them into thinking about how they're going to pay off our debts?

And let's give the poor careers advisers a break while we're at it. When they were 10, they wanted to be astronauts too.

Far deadlier than the male

The crime writer Jessica Mann complains about the graphic sadism and misogyny in crime fiction. She has a point.

The written word is struggling valiantly to keep pace with "torture porn" on DVD; serial killers are everywhere and crimes are solved in the morgue rather than the billiard room.

But violence and misogyny were rife in Jim Thompson and Mickey Spillane, and uglier for being casual.

The difference now is that some of the nastiest stuff comes from female writers: Mo Hayder's Birdman and Susanna Moore's In The Cut are as hair-raising as anything by a man.

Pulp will never be pretty, but at least it's now equal-opportunity.

Where's their party spirit?

No sooner had amateur restaurateur "Ms Marmite," who runs a "pop-up" restaurant at her home in West London, planned a non-profit Harry Potter theme night for Halloween, than she received a cease-and-desist letter from Warner Bros.

"Blah blah an infringement of Warner's rights," ran the relevant part of the letter, the rest of which I won't quote because — as well as being too boring — it is probably copyright. It puts the "ow" into Halloween.

But hey, Warner Bros like a party as much as the next soulless mega-corporation! They encouraged Ms Marmite to go ahead — all she needed do was rename her evening: "Generic Wizard Night."

In honour of Warner Bros, I suggest Ms Marmite go on to host Generic Pointy-Eared Bat-Themed Vigilante Night, Generic Time-Travelling Killer Robot Night and Generic Money-Grubbing Control-Freak Corporate Spannerheads Night. Layout.

Ego towers

As reported by this paper last week, Boris Johnson wants to build a 400ft tower in London to mark the Olympics.

Already people are being unkind, calling it the "Piffle Tower".

It can at least be said to its credit, though, that Boris has secured private funding (in the form of steel magnate Lakshmi Mittal) for it — unlike most of the panoply of vulgar Olympic boondoggles that will accompany it.

A friend of Mr Mittal says he wants to "give something back". A Boris source says: "He wants to build something quite stunning in its ambition, like the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty," a tribute to London that people will love.

It does make you wonder, though, why the projects politicians and industrialists are attracted to as a "legacy" or "giving something back" are always giant inert monuments rather than, say, a working transport system or better green spaces or after-school clubs for disadvantaged teenagers.