And now, the Greatest Blooming Britons!

Continuing our occasional series on People With Very Unusual Jobs Indeed. No 72: The Man at the BBC who Asks the Public About the Best of Everything.

"Yes, I suppose I was responsible for the Britain's Most Favourite Book of All Time contest," says Norman Pantile, BBC Head of Poll Programmes. "And for all the others, like The Greatest Briton. Did you enjoy the Greatest Briton of All Time series?"

I am afraid I didn't see any of it.

"That's the trouble with you journalists these days," says Norman Pantile, jovially. "Won't do your homework. Come here to interview me about Great Britons, and haven't even seen it! Still, you have to admit it was a completely novel way of educating people by the back door, don't you?"

Well, that's not strictly true. After all, people have had balloon debates for years and years...

"Balloon debates?" says Norman Pantile.

Yes. They're debates in which all the speakers pretend to be famous people in a balloon, which then turns out to be overloaded, and each famous person has to put forward arguments for them not to be thrown out, though they are thrown out, one by one, according to the audience's vote.

"What sort of famous people?"

Oh, Florence Nightingale, Leonardo da Vinci...

"If I were Leonardo da Vinci, I'd argue passionately for Alan Yentob to be thrown out!" says Norman Pantile, and roars with laughter.

I'm sorry? Alan...?

"Doesn't matter. Private joke," says Norman Pantile. "Must make a note of that balloon debate idea... could make a marvellous BBC2 programme... Where were we? Oh, yes, the Greatest Briton of All Time. Well, you've got to give us one thing. At least we didn't call it The Greatest Brit of All Time! And it got people talking about history!"

No, it didn't.

"Yes, it did."

I never once heard people in the pub discussing Brunel and Newton and Churchill.

"Course you did," says Norman Pantile. "History is the new... History is the new Gardening."

No, it isn't. Or if it is, it's because of David Starkey and Simon Schama, not because of the Great Britons contest.

"Anyway, no point dwelling in the past," says Norman Pantile. "We've got lots of other contests in the pipeline, and I'd much rather talk about them."

Like what?

"Next one up is Britain's Favourite Wild Flower," says Norman, jauntily. "Research shows that the British are deeply attached to the countryside, even if they don't know the names of more than about 10 flowers. Well, let's use those 10 flowers! Let's have a beauty contest! Let the primrose fight it out with the bluebell! Let's have daisies in the ring against wild roses! Let's see if the violet has got what it takes!"

Isn't that just a bit, well, a bit cosy?

"Can't be too cosy on BBC2 these days!" says Norman Pantile. "But for those who think it's all a bit twee, how about our contest after that? Britain's Most Dreaded Disease!"

Disease?

"Why not? The British love illness and being ill. They love talking about it. Why not channel all that into an unpopularity poll for ailments!"

They'd never stand for it.

"On the contrary, we've test-driven it already, and they loved it. We tried a small sample poll in Kent last month. And guess what was the disease most feared by the British?"

Mmmm... Aids?

"Didn't even appear on the radar. No, cancer, of course. And strokes came a close second, but third, sensationally, came piles!"

Piles?

"Yes. Here's the list. Then, after diseases, we are going to have Britain's Favourite Gadget. Then Britain's Favourite Christmas Carol, then Britain's Favourite Pudding, Britain's Favourite Motorway Service Area, Britain's Favourite Beauty Spot, Britain's..."

Suddenly, Norman Pantile slumps across the desk, frothing slightly from the mouth. I'm no expert, but I would say that he is having a heart attack. I leave him there, wondering as I do if it would be any compensation for him to know that he is about to succumb to Britain's fifth most-popular ailment?