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THIS ITEM, from the British Association’s meeting in sultry Swansea
last week, comes under plain cover. It is a tip for genetic engineers. Before
you address the assembled press about the importance of the latest development
in your field, practise the opening line out loud a few times in front of
the mirror.

The key phrase in this case is ‘genetically engineered organisms’. The
unfortunate member of the BA’s staff, who at the last minute gallantly stepped
in to host a press conference on this subject, fluffed these lines at the
climax, so to speak.

* * *

ALMOST as embarrassed was Andy Veitch, Channel 4’s convivial science
correspondent, who later on was regaling sundry Feedback spies with the
above-mentioned prognostication of the future of our sex lives at the New
Å®ÉúСÊÓƵ party. No sooner had he finished the story than the same BA staff
member left, muttering. Veitch flushed every known shade of red.

* * *

ONE MAN who’s not in Swansea is Michael Howarth, the minister in charge
of science and higher education since last month’s government reshuffle.
The minister’s absence is all the more conspicuous because his predecessor
at the Department of Education and Science, Robert Jackson, had agreed to
deliver a keynote speech on Wednesday.

Why will the minister not be at the BA? ‘He’s on holiday,’ purrs the
DES.

Mr Howarth just pipped his old comrade in arms Michael Fallon for the
science post in the reshuffle. At first the unofficial nod went to Fallon,
but a week later Howarth had the job. Smiles all round of course, especially
as they are both members of Mrs Thatcher’s praetorian guard, the No Turning
Back group of MPs.

So who is taking Alan Howarth’s place for the BA speech? Why, Michael
Fallon.

No, there is absolutely no need to be confused about who is in charge
of science policy.

* * *

WE, AT FEEDBACK, are not amused by the frivolous use of the second person
plural. So we were more than intrigued by the audience adulation received
by Her Royal Highness Chulabhorn, 4th daughter of the King of Thailand.

‘We’ described work at the Chulabhorn Research Institute, of which ‘we’
are director, founder and banker, to isolate the active ingredients of the
berries of makiua, Diospyros mollis, that destroys hookworm.

Charles Stirling, head of the chemistry section of the BA, said Chulabhorn
had decided to devote ‘part of her royal scientific life to better life
through chemistry’.

As telling were the royal trappings. A lady in waiting is an unusual
sight at the BA, as are bodyguards and stretched limousines. Few speakers
are filmed by television before giving a talk to the BA, and even fewer
are made up beforehand. And instead of the unseemly scramble for coffee
at the end of the talk, there were a receiving line to meet HRH.

* * *

THE PLACE is New York. The time February. And the scene is a fashion
shoot outside Bloomingdales, the smartest of the city’s department stores.

An executive stands centre stage, directing, encased from neck to her
stylish calf in a coat made of mink and musquash. An animal rights activist,
easily identified by the slogan emblazoned on the T-shirt, accosts the executive.
‘Do you know how many animals died to make that coat?’

The executive lowers lunettes and says: ‘Do you know how many animals
I had to sleep with to get this coat?’

* * *

NOW HERE’s an excuse that rivals the fabled ‘leaves on the line’. Work
on the Channel Tunnel terminal in Kent has been held up by a colony of nesting
sand martins. The sand martin is a protected species, so the tunnellers
have to wait until the birds migrate to Africa, in October, before they
can finish their work.

* * *

AND SINCE we’re on the subject, George Henderson, the national secretary
of the Transport and General Worker’s Union, has received a message from
a medium forecasting the death of a prominent person when the first French
and British tunnels meet in November. Feedback can reveal that the breakthrough
is due to be supervised by Margaret Thatcher.

* * *

JUST AS the earth begins to groan under the sheer mess of cars, so the
car industry begins to look for new markets, first eastern Europe, followed
by the Third, World, and then . . .? Well, the latest wheeze is to sell
cars to the Martians, and presumably concrete over all those canals. Or
so it seems, for Aviation Week reports that the United Auto Workers’ union
is to throw its political weight behind NASA’s attempt to get funds for
a shot at Mars.

* * *

IF YOU go down to the woods today in the south of Poland you might see
a cross between a rabbit and a fox. According to two farm labourers this
creature has a small sniffing, button nose, like a rabbit, and a fluffy,
reddish-brown, fox tail.

The papers were enthralled, especially after the village schoolmaster
said that he had observed the fobbit (or should it be rax?) regularly. On
local television scientists showed a drawing of the animal, discussed its
habits and how they planned to trap it.

When reporters from Warsaw came to cover the story all the witnesses
and experts seemed to evaporate, like the glass of vodka that seemingly
fuelled so many of the reports. And the fierce fobbit stayed firmly one
hope ahead.