Leading Article: Alas, alas, Mr Smith

FOR THE past few weeks we have been absent-mindedly watching a man in a white wig on our television screens. He appears in commercials in prime-time slots, on hoardings and in newspaper advertisements. There is something familiar about him (yes, it's Mel Smith, the comedian), and also something irritating. Part of this irritation derives from his sheer unfunniness. The plot - too strong a word in this context - suggests a pastiche of Inspector Morse. But, like the inspector himself, it is neither deft nor witty. Clearly the Smith-Morse character has a product to sell. The question - and this causes the gravest irritation - is what.

Here, then, is an advertising campaign which does not inform, does not amuse, and keeps its purpose a secret from its audience. It has cost the Government many millions of pounds, and what it was supposed to achieve was the successful sale of the Government's remaining shareholding in British Telecommunications, estimated at pounds 5bn. That success is still difficult to quantify because the deadline for registration in the new shares came only last Friday. But the outcome, according to reports in today's Business section, looks at least uncertain. People in advertising say the campaign was confusing and inept. The public are weary of privatisation. So who benefits? Look out for the rethatching of an advertising executive's second home in Suffolk and never wonder why you cannot get a table at Quaglino's. That is how wealth has been redistributed in Britain for the past 14 years, while (as official figures released last week show) Britain's poorest families have suffered a cut in real income of 14 per cent.