The British have, it has to be said, quite a comprehensive collection of national character flaws. Recent surveys conducted by The Times, The Guardian and The Independent respectively, have revealed that citizens of this country readily admit to – and even embrace – a culture of binge drinking, problem gambling and poor spelling. [Listen to this post…]

The drinking thing’s not that much of a surprise. Going down the pub is so firmly entrenched into the social lives of most people that if you happen to find yourself at a bus stop after 7pm – having popped out to Sainsbury’s for some teabags and a packet of jaffa cakes – you find yourself involuntarily swaying slightly from side to side in a subconscious attempt to blend in.

The problem gambling is a contentious issue at the moment. Tony Blair’s Labour Government, perhaps aware that their time may be coming to an end, are pushing through an enthusiastic agenda of social policy change. A bunch of legislation designed – in good, true Labour fashion – to protect people from themselves and give them what they need, rather than what they want. A sensible approach to public governance if you ask me. Individuals are rational, responsible and capable – but people are stupid.

The effect of the legislation, if passed, will be to both free up and further restrict gambling laws – particularly with respect to the pokie machines. An unlimited number of them at an increasing number of licenced casinos throughout the country, and no limit on the payout… but banned from fish and chip shops and other places children tend to hang out. It’s okay to be a problem gambler, but it’s not okay to become one.

And the TV programme I caught snippets of this week seemed to prove you not only get the politicians you deserve, but likewise the telly shows.

The Great British Spelling Test was an interactive phone-in, text-in, or press the red button on your interactive digital telly remote thing – and our highly sophisticated computers will – er – test your spelling.

Apart from the fact that a once dreaded component of the schooling system is now a light entertainment format, what did we learn?

That British women are only 2% better at spelling than British men – and that they should be embarrassed the percentage difference isn’t greater.

Apparently, British men believe that ‘all right’ is really one word, that cemetery contains an ‘s’ and an ‘a’ – and that avocado, tomato and potato all look better with an ‘e’ on the end.

‘Affect’ and ‘effect’ are now officially interchangeable (as voted by the population whose language it is, after all) – and apostrophes should just be abolished because their proper usage is now an arcane mystic art. These days their only real use is to hang around ‘S’s that look like they need the extra decoration.

A bit like New Zealand, really…

And while the British sway from side to side feeding 50p coins into slot machines at Ye Olde Pubbe (which I’m beginning to suspect is a typographical error, rather than a nod to linguistic derivation) – the poor sods aren’t going to be able to enjoy a fag with their pint. At least not after December 1st – and certainly not in Liverpool.

You see, Liverpool is becoming a smoke-free city. Not in the same ‘capital letters’ way that New Zealand is a ‘Nuclear-Free Nation’ – American military personnel will be able to dock at port in vessels equipped with packets of Rothmans – but to all intents and purposes, they won’t be able to light them anywhere you might reasonably expect to find other human beings.

Which is fine. I mean – they don’t taste as good that way, but they do last an awful lot longer.

Liverpool is keen to blaze a trail in this area because it is both the heart attack and the cancer capital of Britain.

But while heart disease and cancer are the most common cause of death in many metropolitan centres, Glasgow can now claim a third culprit to add to their list of urgent health priorities that represent leading causes of death and largest consumer of local health services: knife attack.

That’s right – knife attack. Heart attack, cancer and getting stabbed in the street are the big public health concerns in my ancestral home.

But in a land where a government with a long-term strategy and a seemingly short-term time to fit it all in – wanting to save the public from itself – its drinking excesses, its gambling, its smoking, its pollution, its cellphone related driving accidents, its street crime, vandalism, stabbings and even its correct placement of commas in sentences, there seem to be some fundamental oversights.

Bicycle helmets are entirely optional. Cigarette advertising is rigorously defended as a free-speech issue. And alcoholics are now being treated as criminals rather than people with an addiction illness. They are being presented with anti-social behaviour orders in court, and running the risk of a jail sentence of up to 5 years if they breach the conditions of that order. Like, say, having another drink or, in the absurd case of one boy, even uttering the word “grass” before the year 2010.

And yet – spelling, grammar and punctuation aside, for all their flaws, the British are a thoughtful, intelligent bunch with the kind of standard of national debate that comes with a robust public broadcasting system, a good selection of local and national news media, and the kind of weather that encourages you to sit inside and think about and discuss things.

Usually over a beer and a packet of fags down the pub.