Cynthia must join the pantheon of great Brits

The Streatham madam encouraged Englishmen to explore the nursery slopes of sado-masochism

Hearts of oak, our unique sense of humour, a healthy dose of old-fashioned common sense – how the clichés have tumbled out with the publication of the BBC's survey among 30,000 people to find the 100 greatest Britons.

Few will argue with many of the names on the list. For his contribution to parliamentary debate, Guy Fawkes must be there, while the style and musical innovation of Boy George and Johnny Rotten rightly demand a place. But when one looks more closely at the list, doubts arise. Tolkien? Bob Geldof? The Queen Mother? The dreadful Charlie Chaplin? There are whole areas of Britishness not covered by these candidates. Before it is too late, the BBC should allow 10 more names to be added in time for the moment in October when the final list is declared.

John Cleese. Humour is the lifeblood of the nation, so it is only natural that it should grow thinner with age. Cleese reminds us of the essential transitoriness of laughter with his triumphant progress from being one of the funniest men in the world to someone of glazed self-importance, whose every solemn syllable is the perfect cure for insomnia. Cleese's significance is that he has shown that wit is a small thing beside happiness. Miserable, he wrote, with Connie Booth, the astonishing Fawlty Towers; now, via the SDP and West Coast psycho-nonsense, he has revealed to a grateful nation the perfect contentment of dullness.

Sir Alec Douglas-Home. The British like nothing better than an amiable duffer, and this sweet man, with his plus-fours and goofy, cadaverous features, fitted the bill perfectly, exemplifying the glorious, class-based tradition of our political life.

Mohamed Fayed. Although the great Fayed has embarrassingly yet to be awarded citizenship, he falls within the BBC's guidelines having "played a significant part in the life of the British Isles". And what a part is Mohamed's! From his revival of Harrods and Fulham Football Club to his heroic attempt to keep Punch afloat, he has shown a devotion towards our institutions that is entirely at one with his essentially British character – witty, generous, and with a frank and hearty appreciation of the opposite sex.

Jade Goody. There has been a predictable welcome in certain quarters of the anti-intellectual bias of the BBC list. The British, according to one opinion-maker, have "a pragmatic aversion to humbug that leads us not to over-value abstract thinkers or their high-flown constructs". How appropriate it would be if, to mark our healthy distrust of intelligence, Jade of Big Brother, the nation's favourite thicko, should formally be voted a Great Briton.

Frank Harris. As has recently been established in these pages, Englishmen are internationally sought after as thoughtful, accomplished lovers. In the face of impressive, stiff opposition, Harris, the great editor, writer and serial bonker of the late 19th century, must be nominated. It will be said that he was in fact Irish, a fantasist and, in the words of Dos Passos, that he lived his life "tingling with lust and greed and ambition". Precisely, Harris would say: his argument was that modesty was the fig-leaf of mediocrity. Today, in a very real sense, his point still stands.

Roy Keane. Another Irishman, Keane embodies a tigerish distrust of compromise, a contempt for amateurism, an adamantine determination to win at all costs that is essentially British. He may now and then go a little too far but, as TS Eliot noted in another context, it is only by going too far that that you find out how far you can go.

George Lewes. It is a truism that behind every successful woman there stands a man, yet remarkably few spouses are recognised in the list. According to one biographer, the first story written by the superb George Eliot indicated the "close connection between sexual happiness and the release of creativity". In other words, if it were not for efforts of Lewes, there may well have been no Middlemarch, no Mill on the Floss.

Cynthia Payne. The great and scandalous sexual heroines of abroad tend to be vulgarly sultry and seductive. The Streatham madam, who famously provided middle-management executives with the simple release of humiliation during their lunch break, encouraged millions of shy Englishmen to explore the nursery slopes of sado-masochism, a central part of our national life.

John Skelton. Tutor of Henry VIII, the first poet laureate, author of the wonderful poem Philip Sparrow, Skelton fathered three illegitimate children during his sojourn as rector of Diss. When local gossip became tiresome, he held up one of his babies in the pulpit during his Sunday service and asked his congregation whether any of them had a child so perfect. Poet, wit, courtier, rector, rake, Skelton lived the fully rounded life of a true Great Briton.

terblacker@aol.com