Way of the World Michael Deacon

MPs have opened up a new front in their tireless campaign to protect the public from itself. A group of them are demanding that the words “SMOKING KILLS” be printed along the side of every cigarette sold in Britain.

Libertarians will inevitably object, but I for one think it sounds like a valuable precaution. After all, the prospective smoker could easily fail to notice the exact same warning that is already printed in enormous letters on all sides of the packet, along with the images of blackened lungs, clogged arteries, rotten teeth, gangrenous feet, cancerous throats, small children on hospital ventilators and so on.

Admittedly, there may be one small potential flaw in the MPS’ plan. After a few puffs the message along the side of the cigarette would simply read “SMOKING”, which is not a warning but a statement of fact. And after another puff, the message would read “SMOKIN”, which sounds dangerously like a term of approval. According to

Urban Dictionary, a website that tracks the latest developments in youth slang, “smokin” is an adjective that describes “a girl or guy who is beyond hot”. So, if anything, the plan risks making cigarettes seem more attractive to the young, rather than less.

All the same, I feel sure that every right-thinking person will applaud MPS in their efforts to raise awareness of this hitherto little-known threat to public health. Let us hope that, in due course, they expand their campaign into other areas. I suggest a law that requires contestants on the Great British Bake Off to ice every cake with the phrase “CHOLESTEROL KILLS”. All cars, meanwhile, should have “SPEEDING KILLS” written on the steering wheel, “CROSSING AT A RED LIGHT KILLS” on the bonnet, and “EXHAUST FUMES

KILL” on the boot.

Critics will try to claim that such warnings are both patronising and unnecessary, but in my view one cannot be too careful. Let us have warnings about the dangers of a sedentary lifestyle printed on our sofas, the dangers of heart attacks printed on our running gear, and the dangers of being mugged printed on the inside of our front doors. It’s the

only way we’ll learn.

S hould the Covid numbers keep worsening, ministers may decide to ban members of the public from visiting each other’s houses again. This, reportedly, is the Government’s “Plan C”, to be implemented if “Plan B” (the return of mandatory mask-wearing and working from home) fails. Frankly, though, I fear that Plan C would be doomed to fail. People would ignore the ban, and carry on visiting as many of their friends as they like. Because, after the revelations about what went on in Downing Street last Christmas, they now have the perfect excuse.

Childcare bubbles.

If their car is stopped by a policeman en route to a friend’s house, those with children will simply say: “Let me through, officer – I’m off to get childcare.” Those without children, meanwhile, will say: “Let me through, officer – I’m off to provide childcare.”

If the officer still refuses to budge, the member of the public will specify that they’re off to provide childcare to the Prime Minister. Then they’re certain to be let through.

Mind you, if too many people use that line, it may end up testing the officer’s credulity.

“Off to provide childcare to the Prime Minister? Pull the other one, madam. This must be the 200th time I’ve heard that today.”

“Well, officer, he does have an awful lot of children.”

S ensational allegations from Spain. At a parliamentary hearing, a former police chief has claimed that Juan Carlos – who abdicated as the king of Spain in 2014 – was injected with “female hormones” by secret service agents, in a desperate attempt to stop him sleeping with so many thousands of women. Apparently, it was “considered a problem of state” that the king “was so horny”.

Whether the story is true, I couldn’t say, but I certainly hope so. What a stupendous film it would make. It would knock The King’s Speech into a cocked hat. Imagine the meeting where the secret service discussed the plan. Surely some must have feared that pumping the king with female hormones would simply cause him to sleep with thousands of men instead.

This is far from the first time that eye-popping claims have been made about Juan Carlos’s appetites. In 2017 a book alleged that, between 1976 and 1994, the king slept with 2,154 women – which is roughly a new lover every three days. Even though he was married the entire time.

Then again, such activity is positively monk-like next to the record set by the Belgian crime novelist and creator of Maigret, Georges Simenon. Legend has it that – as well as writing almost 500 novels – Simenon slept with as many as 10,000 women. If he started at 16, and continued at a consistent pace until his death at the age of 86, that’s a rate of 142.8 women a year. Even though he was married to his first wife between the ages of 20 and 47, and to his second wife between the ages of 47 and 61.

Of course, if he was faithful to those two wives, that means he slept with the other 9,998 women between the ages of 16 and 20, and then 61 and 86. A total of 29 years. Which is 344.8 women a year. Almost one a day. And most of them when he was in old age.

Forget injecting him with female hormones. They would have had to station a vet by his bed with a tranquilliser gun.