Are there too many humans?

World population growth has become a serious issue for debate in recent times. At its current estimate of 6.9 billion, the number of humans on Earth has doubled in the last 50 years and some forecasters expect that number to reach 10 billion by the end of this century. Much of the debate centres around whether or not our planet can actually sustain this growing number and even argues if it might be the right time to impose population controls worldwide, along the Chinese model. Advocates of population control include a number of luminaries such as Sir David Attenborough, who has commented that humanity is 'a plague on the Earth' and that 'either we limit our population growth or the natural world will do it for us'. But is this a viewpoint shared by all? That was the topic up for discussion when I attended The Big Question, at the J Z Young Lecture Theatre, University College London Anatomy Building in Gower Street on Wednesday 6 March. 

Before the talk began, attendees were invited to a drinks reception at the nearby Grant Museum of Zoology. The drinks receptions there usually take place after the main event (particularly their free film screenings) but this one was prior to the talk, which was a good opportunity to chat about the upcoming topic of discussion. I was approached by a woman (whose name was Marlene if I remember correctly) whilst taking a couple of photographs and engaged in conversation, only to realise soon afterwards that she was trying to sell me membership of an organisation about the conservation of some endangered species of (I think) birds that she was heavily involved in. She also told me she had once been a film extra (or 'background artiste' as some would prefer to be known!) and when I asked her for an example of her favourite work she said she had featured quite heavily in One Million Years B.C., the 1966 British-made Hammer Film co-production starring Raquel Welch (which was also famed for its complete and total historical innaccuracy!). That was when she revealed she was 70, but looking more like mid-fifties. I wondered if I'd be able to pick her out if I ever see the film again. We were then joined in conversation by another attendee, who basically pretty much admitted he got more enjoyment out of the fact that this event was totally free and that he actively researched free events calendars and had even occasionally blagged his way into paid events! He seemed to be accompanied (although I wasn't totally certain) by a woman who actually appeared to have a real interest in the population growth issue and who I think was also trying to promote awareness via a website she supported.

The drinks reception lasted around 45 minutes, after which we were all shepherded across the road to the lecture theatre. It was very soon packed out and people were even turning up after the talk had got under way and had to stand or crouch down in the stairwells.

The talk was advertised as bringing together speakers from the world of ecology, history, finance, conservation and economics. Each one of them had to select an object from the Grant Museum's collection to illustrate and support their argument. The UCL events webpage stated that six speakers would be presenting their views, but in fact there were only three. This thankfully didn't have too much of an impact on the debate, as their viewpoints widely differed, one seeming to favour population control, another insisting we could sustain the future forecast of 10 billion people (with the third speaker falling somewhere into the middle of those two opinions). Each of them had probably 15 minutes to individually make their case, after which there was an audience question and answer session. Of course no concrete conclusions were ever going to be made, but it was nevertheless a stimulating and lively discussion.

UCL Museums organise a number of free talks, exhibitions and even film screenings, on a variety of subjects - head over to their main webpage for more information. 

Tea in a Victorian urinal.

Ever thought it might be nice to have lunch in a public urinal? No? Really? You surprise me. But that was exactly my (first) experience yesterday when I popped along to a newly opened coffee shop situated in Fitzrovia (Foley Street) called Attendant.

Well, ok, it's obviously not actually a public urinal anymore. It was built around 1890 and closed in the 1960s. But Pete Tomlinson and Ben Russell, with a hefty dose of business acumen, decided to buy it, spend around £100,000 on renovation, and re-opened it as a smart little underground cafe which, when I went along, was evidently proving very popular.

The original Doulton & Co. urinals (I counted around 8) have been given a makeover and a raised bar installed, so that customers can sit in their very own urinal space(!) on a high stool, sipping the fine coffee or munching the tasty looking sandwiches that this establishment has to offer. At the back of the small space was a table which would probably seat around 8 or thereabouts.

When I arrived all available seating was taken and there were many other people queuing for food and drink. There were also lots of customers taking photographs. The publicity for this place seems to have aroused much interest and everyone seemed to be enjoying the very quirky and atmospheric space. It's always pleasing to find something new like this, something unique with a bit of character. A welcome change from all the chain outlets.

The original attendants room has now become the kitchen area where a chef prepares a small selection of hot food daily, which is passed through a small serving hatch. Yesterday's options were on a chalkboard above the hatch. 

Other food items are laid out on the main counter: pastries, cakes (made by Bittersweet Bakers) and sandwiches. I thought I'd set them a real test by ordering one of the hot items on offer - a hot dog. I say a real test, because I'm not normally a great fan of hot dogs, but have enjoyed the odd one here and there. Memories of street vendors and dodgy cafes selling tasteless, soggy, messes came to mind. But I was pleasantly surprised when it was served up: on ciabatta, with caramelised onions and mustard - very tasty. Drink-wise I opted for a cup of tea. I asked for English Breakfast, but it was gently emphasised that this wasn't your bog standard 'English Breakfast' I was being served but a special blend in the same style (I can't remember what they called it now I'm afraid!). It arrived in a small, glass, teapot, with a tiny jug of milk.

The place was so full that I initially had to eat standing near where all the utensils were kept (knives, forks, sugar, salt, pepper etc). One of the proprietors came up to chat, asking me what my first impressions were, and told me they'd been open for five weeks. Judging by the amount of trade I saw today I'm guessing they're doing alright. Eventually I was led over to a vacant urinal seat and sat down to enjoy the rest of my lunch.

My hot dog was £5.25 and when the tea was added it totalled up to over £8.00, but this may have included a charge to eat in (I was too distracted to take note, visually exploring the rest of the surroundings). A tad pricey but worth it. In conclusion, I liked it - certainly a different kind of lunch experience. I will definitely head back from time to time and treat myself to some of the other wonderful looking food and drink on offer, particularly the cakes and pastries. Recommended. Oh, and one final note - ironically, there are no toilets!

Jack the Ripper: The Making of the Myth

The Jack the Ripper murders: what more can be said about them? This year marks the 125th anniversary of those horrific crimes. Countless words have been written since, expounding endless theories on who might have carried out what many generally regard to be the most famous serial killings in history. And still, to this day, there is a continuing fascination with what has become an iconic, if grisly, part of London's history.

It's that same fascination that led me to attend this talk, my 4th Jack the Ripper themed event in the last 6 months, in a room above The Bell, a pub in Middlesex Street near Aldgate, organised by the London Fortean Society on Thursday 28 February: Jack the Ripper: The Making of the Myth. The talk was based on a book of the same name and given by the author of said book (and London tour guide), John Bennett. 

My own interest in this part of London's history began in 1988, the 100th anniversary of the Ripper murders, when they were quite heavily featured in the media, with a proliferation of books and TV shows etc. The subject piqued my interest and I subsequently purchased a book, published the previous year, which outlined every single theory ever put forward up to that point, along with much background information about the sequence of events leading up to and during the 'Autumn of Terror', called 'Jack the Ripper: Summing up and Verdict' by Colin Wilson and Robin Odell (out of print now I believe). It was an excellent read and it prompted me to do my own walking tour of the five most famous murder sites (some experts believe more murders may have been committed, but the evidence is not as conclusive). Only one site, the first, was more or less unchanged in appearance at that time, but now none of the crime scenes look at all like they did when the murders happened. I learned this on the first of my 4 most recent events mentioned above, a guided walk last October, given by Ripper expert Jenny Phillips. And even John Bennett pointed out that some people find an interest in this subject a bit disturbing or morbid, but don't realise that it entails not only the murders themselves, but the whole background to them; the historical setting, the politics, the unemployment, the suffering of the poor and destitute, the huge indifferences between the East End and the West End of London. But back to my evening . . .

I personally don't believe in anything that requires an individual to suspend their own faculties of logic and reason, so was a bit apprehensive about potentially being drawn into a discussion with one of the Fortean Society attendees about aliens/ghosts/fairies etc, but that was perhaps a bit unfair, and most people actually seemed to be quite nice (although in the post-talk question and answer session I sensed some audience members might have been slightly alarmed by one questioner admitting to having been sectioned, but were reassured when he informed everyone he was now perfectly well).

Once everyone was seated, our host informed us that the evening would begin with the regular LFS monthly round-up of strange and unusual news stories. But this time apparently, we would be treated to hearing them in musical format, a change to the norm, and were introduced to Jude Cowan Monteque, a researcher and archivist for ITN Source in her day job, and described as a 'multi-media artist and musician' on the web link I've provided below. "Oh, this sounds good" I thought to myself. "I wonder what's in store? An acoustic set perhaps? Or maybe an electric piano/synthesizer accompaniment?" No. Jude sat down on a chair in front of us all and produced what appeared to be a mini keyboard. It reminded me of one of those Casio-style keyboards that were first manufactured way back in the 80s. And indeed, once she started 'playing' it, it also sounded like one of those Casio-style keyboards of the 80s. In fact, it could very well have been one of those Casio...well, you get the drift. This 'improvisational' piece of musical entertainment was in reality helped along by a lyric sheet, which Jude clung on to with one hand, while attempting to play her tiny keyboard (complete with tinny-sounding drum machine accompaniment) with the other. I filmed just a brief snippet of her performance, which is posted below.

She had 'an unusual rock'. And an unusual voice too it would seem. But, fair play to her, she got up in front of the audience and had a crack at making the LFS monthly round-up that extra bit entertaining. And she is probably far cleverer, more expressive and more creative than I will ever be. Here's a link to some of her recorded material.

Once Jude had finished her spot, John Bennett then took to the floor and began his presentation proper. The basic premise of his talk was how, over the years since the murders happened, through a variety of influences including public hysteria, urban legend, conspiracy theory, and film and television adaptations based on the multitude of books and articles written on the subject, the Whitechapel Murderer has become something of a folklore figure. A sinister presence prowling in the shadows. A mysterious phantom dressed in a cloak and wearing a top hat, lurking in the alleyways. A man with anatomical knowledge, possibly a doctor or surgeon. In more modern terms, films have continued to enforce that imagery, one of the first being Alfred Hitchcock's 1927 'The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog' (based on the novel published in 1913) and a 1976 publication that was instrumental in re-enforcing the theory that it was a Royal 'that dunnit', Stephen Knight's 'Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution'. Complete rubbish of course and later discredited. But a theory still embraced by many. At one point John was reading out some trailer lines from film posters etc, one from a 1959 production if I recall correctly, which referred to Jack as 'the most diabolical murderer in all the annals of crime'. An audience member piped up 'What about Hitler then?', which generated a wave of laughter.

An entertaining talk, but I came away feeling I hadn't really learned anything I didn't already know. And, strangely for this type of event, John was not on hand afterwards to sell or sign any copies of his book and in fact seemed quite keen to get off home! I chatted with one or two of the attendees afterwards and then had a drink in the bar downstairs, where I was invited to join some of the LFS members at their table. I couldn't chat for long though, due to last trains and all, and soon headed off home. But it will almost certainly not be my last Ripper themed outing and I may even return for a Fortean Society event, which they hold regularly at this venue.         

Sandi Toksvig in conversation

Stratford is a part of London I'm not very familiar with, so it was with interest I headed there on Friday 22 February to see the author, presenter and comedian Sandi Toksvig in conversation about her latest book, 'Valentine Grey', at Stratford East Picturehouse. 

Of Stratford itself I can say very little, other than that the station I arrived at links to a huge, modern looking shopping complex. It took me a while to establish which exit I needed to take to get to the venue. There were apparently two picturehouses, according to a London Underground employee who got a little bit frustrated with me when I asked for directions. I told him I needed to be on the Great Eastern Road. "Ah!" he said "In that case you need to cross the bridge above us, go over it, and down the stairs at the other side. Brings you right out on the Great Eastern Road". "Great" I replied "And how do I get up to the bridge?" (I couldn't see a lift or stairs). "You go up!" he said. "I know that, directly above us you said - but how do I get there?". In slightly more agitated tone: "You take the stairs. Or the lift." (At last, I thought, we were finally getting somewhere). "And where are they then?" At this he sighs and rolls his eyes, then simply points a finger directly out in front of him. I turned to face the direction he was pointing in, only to see a throng of people heading in and out of the station. "So I walk straight ahead? Or straight ahead and turn left perhaps? Or right?" Or maybe he simply wanted me to stand directly below the bridge and jump, bionic man style, up to the walkway itself? With a look of exasperation he began to walk me towards the spot he was apparently pointing to. I stopped him however and said "It's fine, I think I can take it from here thanks" and shook his hand to thank him for all his help. The lifts and stairwell were in fact hidden around a corner directly ahead. I was relieved to find them, as by now I was running quite tight for time. But once over the bridge it was very easy to find the venue and I made it there with around 10 minutes to spare. 

The talk was arranged as part of the 35th anniversary celebrations of Newham Bookshop, an independent, not-for-profit community bookseller, based in East London. Newhams' owner, Vivian Archer, introduced Sandi, along with Virago publisher Lennie Goodings, who would be the interviewer for the evening. The conversation took place in screen 2, a large but very dimly lit auditorium. In fact, it was so dim that there were cries of 'we can't see!' and also 'we can't hear!', so both lights and audio were tweaked to address the problems. 

Sandi read out an extract from Valentine Grey and entertained the audience with many anecdotes. One of my favourites was about her application to audition for her first television role, in a children's programme which I believe was called 'No.73'. The ad for the job asked for candidates to send in a photograph. Sandi, being new then to the whole process, assumed a photo-booth style picture would suffice and subsequently went along to one to have some pictures taken. Due to her petite stature, she was unable to set the stool in the booth to the required height to ensure her whole face was in the photograph. Hence, the end result showed an image of Sandi's face cut off just under the nose area! When the programme makers received the application and photo they were highly amused, thinking it was a deliberate attempt at humour, and so Sandi was invited along to audition! The producers were suitably impressed and she subsequently got the job, presenting the show from 1982 to 1986.

Sandi's CV is very diverse. In a comment from The Guardian on the back of one of her books that I bought at the event this evening, 'Heroines and Harridans: A Fanfare of Fabulous Females', it said 'she makes Stephen Fry look like a layabout'. Which is a fair comment. She has written more than 20 books (for both children and adults), a musical, a TV series, performed in many comedy shows and a number of stage plays, and is currently presenter of The News Quiz on BBC Radio 4, to name just some of her achievements.

After a question and answer session with the audience to close the talk, she reappeared outside in the bar area to sign copies of her latest books. I was amongst the first in the queue and, along with my signed copy, managed to get Sandi's civil partner Debbie (a photographer as luck would have it!) to take a picture of us together. 

She was very nice to talk to and happily chatted away with everyone she was signing for. After getting my book signed I headed straight over to the bar, where I noticed they served Meantime beers (one of my favourite brewers) and enjoyed a couple of bottles of their wonderful pale ale, before finally deciding to head home. 

How Do Surgeons Learn to Operate?

Have you ever wondered how a surgeon learns the skills required to operate on someone? Would it be on a real patient for instance? It's an intriguing thought. An event took place at the Dana Centre, on Wednesday 20 February, attempting to answer just that: How Do Surgeons Learn to Operate? 

I happened to come across this event whilst randomly browsing the web for new ideas and, after initially rousing my interest, I noticed it was only a day or two away from taking place. 'Probably fully booked by now' I thought, but I phoned the venue on the off-chance and discovered that, not only was space still available, but it was completely free to attend! The kind lady I spoke to reserved me a place and sent me an email confirmation.

I got a little lost trying to get there and arrived with only minutes to spare before the event started. The Dana Centre is part of the Science Museum, but in a separate building located just behind it, and is a venue that specialises in adults-only events themed around the big issues in science. This was my first ever visit there (hence getting a little lost!) and I was looking forward to what I hoped would be an illuminating evening.

When I arrived I was directed, from the main reception, down a small flight of stairs, to a lower level area where the event was to take place. I was immediately informed that photographs and video footage would be taken and asked if I had any objections to that, which of course I didn't (although perhaps I should have, not being the most photogenic individual!). The room where the talk/demonstrations were to take place was a long rectangular space. In the middle of the room was a 'stage' area, basically a platform raised a foot or so above the ground. An operating table was set up on the platform, with a latex rubber 'patient' lying across it, covered with a sheet. In a cutaway section in the top of the sheet, inserted into the 'patient', were keyhole surgical instruments. On either side of this stage area were rows of seats, facing inwards. Mounted high at each end of the room was a video screen and a large TV monitor was situated a few feet in front of the operating table.

The event was presented by four different people and the initial introduction was made by Jeff Bezemer, a senior research fellow at the Institute of Education. The evening was quite interactive and Jeff began by requesting the audience participate in a poll. We were asked, in the event of having to undergo surgery, who we would prefer to carry out the operation: a qualified consultant; a trainee surgeon, supervised by the consultant; or no preference, i.e. either one. We used handheld electronic keypads to register our votes.

Predictably, the highest percentage voted for the consultant. We were told we'd be asked this same question again at the end of the talk. Jeff then brought two other people onto the stage, Omar Faiz, consultant surgeon at St Marks Hospital and Alexandra Cope, specialist surgical registrar in the Oxford Deanery. Both of them dressed in full surgical gowns, they basically re-enacted an operation on the colon that was actually performed by a trainee, under the supervision of a consultant. Some original video footage of that operation, from the inside of the patient's abdomen, was used to enhance the re-enactment and we could hear the actual verbal interaction between the consultant and the trainee. This also explained the presence of the TV monitor. In a real operation environment it would be showing the surgeons what was happening inside the patient in close-up detail, via a tiny camera. We in the audience were able to see the real video footage via the aforementioned mounted screens, which was paused at frequent intervals so that Omar and Alexandra could explain exactly what was happening at each stage, giving us an insight into the decisions for carrying out each incision/action on the patient. Their commentary was analysed by the fourth presenter, Roger Kneebone, professor of surgical education at Imperial College London.

After the re-enactment finished, the audience were invited to pitch questions to all the presenters. At the end of this we were once again asked to vote on our preference of surgeon and, as one might have expected, overall opinion had changed, with the highest percentage coming out in favour of either consultant or trainee, i.e. no preference. The audience were obviously impressed at the high level of assistance and guidance given to the trainee and reassured that every single step was carefully monitored.

We were then invited to go and talk to the presenters informally and discuss any issues involving surgical procedure. We also had the opportunity to have a go ourselves: a couple of mock-ups had been created for anyone interested to get a feel of what it's like to carry out keyhole surgery. One was a fake body-cavity, complete with internal organs(!) ...

... and the other was a plastic torso inserted with the same keyhole surgical instruments as the stage 'patient' and a smaller TV monitor, displaying the cavity inside (which contained mini pasta shells that could be picked up using the 'pincers' at the end of the tools!). 

Although the venue had a bar, not a drop touched my lips (he's lying I hear you say!), but plenty of others had a tipple and I had an interesting chat with one or two attendees and the guy who had set up the dummy 'patient', before finally deciding to head off. Must remember to keep an eye on this venue. Very interesting, informative and educational event. And offered free to the public. Well done Dana Centre!