Hall was somehow savaged by a panel which contained, amongst others, professionally ineffectual wall hanging Louis Spence and Chiles himself, the world’s least threatening man. Even worse: she has achieved the exact opposite of her presumed aim. Following her constant, whining ubiquity over the past few days, the only sane response is to actually feel sorry for Clarkson. She’s unlikely to make the money she wants, but even if she does, it’ll be pretty tainted now.

Rumour has it that Hall has fired Clifford following the debacle. It’s fascinating to me that this is the conclusion people have drawn: much more likely he’s quietly given her the shove. He sat next to her, blandly besuited like a court-appointed attorney in a police drama, ashen faced as she shot herself in the foot time after time. An attempted gag in which she turned the initials used to refer to her case under the injunction (a.m.m vs h.x.w) into a faux-provocative acronym fell flatter than Spence’s washboard abs. ‘Adulterous Motor Mouth vs. Hurt Ex Wife’, if you’re interested. Cue slow clap.

Not content with total sense of humour failure, she saw fit to run through the PR handbook of toxic ideas. The nadir? She came closer than anyone has for a while to evoking the Clinton Defence: asked whether she could prove the alleged affair, she replied simply ‘what’s proof?’.

Hall has been given a short sharp shock and taught a valuable lesson. Whether you feel you have a story to tell or not is irrelevant. Even if you think you’ve been wronged, you won’t be safe. Despite your indignation at a court gagging or whatever other justification you have,  as soon as you go to Max Clifford and release a publicity narrative which, despite Hall’s protestations, can only be branded a ‘kiss and tell’ by the tabloids, any gains you make will be tainted forever.
The price of this kind of fame is high, and Hall is paying it already. It’s a vicious circle of course: the greater her frustration, and the more she feels the need to defend herself, the worse she comes across. Her appearance on TSNS was defined by her manner: humourless, unsmiling, self-serving. Her claim that her book was never originally intended to feature details of the much discussed affair is somewhat dubious. Tellingly, it was backed up only by insistences that it would prove interesting solely on the basis of the revelations it offered into her clearly rather tiresome life.

What Hall should have realised is that, as soon as she appears on television she’s up against people with a script behind them and an audience already onside. Chiles is hardly the greatest humourist on British TV, but he got some big laughs at her expense, particularly when he referred to Clarkson’s considerable material wealth. Both literally and metaphorically, the laughter of studio audiences will render any sincere points Hall has to offer inaudible.

The lesson here is clear: kiss and tells never offer the gazillions they promise, and what pecuniary reward they do carry comes with a heavy burden. Hall’s punishment is almost classical in its irony. Like Sisyphus and his Stone, she is doomed to toil forever. Each new protestation of innocence and search for vindication will breed new accusations, and the process will fuel itself.

The knee-jerk reaction is to dismiss this out of hand. It’s not just crazy, it’s obvious. Surely even the voyeuristic, big brother guzzling, internet porn fed, fetid mess of a world we live in wouldn’t fall for something so desperate. It may be getting watched, but it won’t win votes.

Having said that, futurology is a tricky discipline, especially in the fad happy world of politics. Perhaps Lenart’s dance is so mad that it works. Lord knows we’ve been waiting for something to kick off the ‘digital elections’ repeatedly promised- and denied- through campaign strategies over the past few years.

Cameron fell foul of the net when his vote for change poster, complete with his staring visage airbrushed to Jordanian levels, was appropriated by a few ingenious trolls who created http://mydavidcameron.com/. The site allowed wannabe satirists to introduce their own accompanying slogans, with often hilarious results. It became one of the few truly concentrated, attention grabbing focal points of leftist criticism.

Across the pond, Boston senator Scott Brown ran into controversy earlier this year after guerrilla online tactics instigated by his communications department majorly backfired. Senior Republican advisor Eric Fehrnstrom attempted to artificially create the kind of satirical bite that grew naturally from the David Cameron affair when he set up a fake twitter account for Democrat Allan Khazei (@crazykhazei).

Apart from being disastrously unfunny (sample tweet: “Just read Scott Brown’s book. He isn’t the only one who had it tough growing up. I once got a splinter.”) the whole affair generated a storm around Brown’s use of public funds- an area of debate more or less untapped prior to the revelations. It was the exact opposite of a political communications campaign’s intended effect.

In short, whatever they say to the contrary, political brand advisors know bugger all about how to harness the internet: Obama’s web success aside, online campaigning is still uncharted territory. So who knows, perhaps in twenty years’ time Lenart will be hailed as the messiah and cabinets the world over will look like the B Team of a home counties branch of Secrets. If Theresa May is looking to try something similar, I hear Vaseline on the camera lens works a treat.

The latest Mail piece by Richard Price, which (in its online form) incorporates nearly 2000 words of surgically targeted attack on the show, including interviews with a hapless carer of Rees’s and a spokesperson for mental health charity Mind. It would make it without question into my list of “top ten examples of stories you don’t want floated about your brand” if I was the kind of person who kept inane lists.

The sincerity and depth of feeling of the coverage, however, marks this out as more than a simple lesson in the devastating consequences of poison publicity. This is not just an unfortunate expose of one woman’s treatment, it is a tailor-made vehicle for injecting awareness of the fundamentally flawed reality show process into the mind of even the least media-savvy member of the public.

The main angle that’s grabbed the popular imagination is not simply that Ceri’s humiliations were repeatedly broadcast, it’s that she was, according to a friend, called up specifically by the show under the false pretext of giving her another serious chance. This was calculated manipulation of reality not only in the comparatively harmless name of national entertainment but in the very harmful sense of distorting and playing off the aspirations of one unfortunate woman.

That this story has broken and run is not the fault of and PR involved with X Factor or Freemantle, it is an inevitability; when the operating narrative of a brand is so poisonous and broken, it is only a matter of time before the public and the media rise up against it. As any brand manager will tell you, there is only so much spin people will swallow.

The whole affair sheds a new light on this week’s ban of Chinese reality property ‘Super Girl’ by the country’s State Administration of Film, Television and Radio (SARFT). I know China is run by a kind of totalitarian administration in drag, but I’m beginning to feel they have the inkling of a point.

The show, which was unceremoniously and ‘voluntarily’ cut from the airwaves under the paper thin premise that it was being punished for exceeding its allotted time slot, is purportedly the first victim of a forthcoming ‘moral purge’ in Chinese television.

The whole affair will undoubtedly (to an extent already has) generate criticism in Western liberal media- clearly one motive for the government move is a suppression of perceived anti-communist sentiment in a programme which glorifies consumption and connects it with democratic choice. Yet the question is begged of whether the destructive practises of reality TV are suitable for any society, regardless of ideology.

While it is true that the show garnered huge audiences, comment on the speed and decisiveness of government reaction invariably comes back to insisting that the mores of reality TV are simply not compatible with the Chinese character.

Whether it comes from a government crackdown or a media backlash, civilisations of all stripes are reacting to the increasingly obvious and undisguisably amoral process behind the brand gloss placed atop reality properties. People will swallow distortion, exaggeration, spin, bluster- these are key

tools of the black art of improperganda. They will not, however, swallow a brand narrative that is totally false, and their rejecting the x factor’s claim about giving Mrs Rees a sporting chance may prove to be the first stage of something bigger.

The conference as a whole seems to have been getting more coverage than any other party conference in recent memory. Journalists can sense the chinks and cracks forming in the lib dem PR armour. All this is fuelled by the #ldconf twitter discussion which is more overwhelmingly negative than even a cynic like myself could have predicted, with some particularly quotable intrusions from John Prescott, who recently responded to journalists irate at accreditation issues with the somewhat inflammatory tweet “Is the #LDConf accreditation crisis at a conference centre proof they can’t organise a p***up in a brewery?”.

This last example may seem minor- journalists will always find something to whinge about when covering an event- but it’s quite telling. This lack of organisation makes more explicit what should be implicit to any communications professional following the conference: clearly, the Lib Dems do not have the money for the PR counsel and management they desperately need.

In theory- and not just in an ideal world, either- this shouldn’t matter. This is because the party have a meme that they’ve tried to put out- summed up, basically, as “Nick Clegg is an extraordinary man, thank god he sacrificed his own ambitions for the good of the country.” If this had caught on, it would have seeded the same kind of homespun, open charm Clegg exuded in the run up to the election. The odd blunder might have been forgiven- there was a time when Clegg got all his capital from appearing human.

However, this was before Clegg stepped into the especially unflattering light which the public reserves for politicians. It was easy, before, to position unpolished, shallowly responsive opinions as the honest alternative to the overly ideological posturing of Brown’s Labour party and the airbrushed simpering of Cameron’s pre-election Tories. However, trying to position yourself in the same ‘awkward barstard’ slot whilst actually occupying the corridors of power is impossible. You’re no longer a crusader: at best you’re a backstabber, at worst you’re a blunderer. Leading educationalist Wes Streeting summed up the mood of the one-time party faithful earlier this week: ‘One your side’ is #ldconf slogan. Should’ve been ‘right behind you – stabbing you in the back’.

In short, the niche that once propelled the libdems into the mainstream has become too complicated to manage without more help than they can afford: awkward not for the powers that be, but for the party members themselves, and no matter how hard they work it will prove difficult for them to attract the kind of major figures they need. Their name is too sullied already to carry the clout that Labour or the Tories might within the communications industry. Come back from Kosovo Alastair Campbell, there’s plenty of work for you here.

The campaign, which allowed people to sign up their friends to be ‘pranked’ with a serious of worrying emails from one of 5 colourful fictional characters, was a bungled attempt by the Saatchi suits to make the world’s most boring car company look radical. This is a textbook example of why forging the brand narrative is best left to the publicists: the creative excellence of Ad Agencies does not extend to long form narrative content.

In other words, it was a textbook example of advertising as insular and irrelevant communication. Instead of seeking to connect with any true brand narrative or profile, the Saatchi & Saatchi team betrayed their arrogance and remained convinced of their idea of what the brand needed, irrespective of what people actually wanted.

Ad folk lack understanding of the psyche of the news agenda: unlike PRs, they aren’t programmed to anticipate the downside, to work the worst case scenario into the fibre of their strategy.

Amanda Duik, the woman suing the company, was apparently targeted over a week long period with emails- genuine, for all she knew- from a football hooligan character called ‘Sebastian Bowler’, who came complete with his own S&S-created myspace profile and other web-based proofs of existence. She reckons she experienced sufficient mental distress over the terrifying period to sue for massive damages from all involved.

Those who don’t follow my thoughts closely might be surprised that I’m condemning S&S for this: what differentiates it from the kind of stunts perpetrated by myself and my influences? It’s certainly not because I’ve decided to clamber onto my high horse.

When classic Hollywood movie publicist Jim Moran placed a lion in a motel room under the name ‘TR Zan’ to promote the release of a strikingly similarly named movie, he caused a good deal more distress than S&S have here.

However, his stunt did what good PR does: it tapped into the popular conversation and interwove the brand narrative with it. It spoke of wilderness and adventure, which was exactly right at a time when movies were reflecting the increasingly adventurous spirit of the American public. It had also involved significant calculation of risk, and understood that inevitable bad press would be absorbed by the whole daring nature of the thing.

In part it’s a question of money: ad firms, arguably, have too much. Insular ad campaigns are bred when teams have the time and the resources to ponder their angles until they’re warped out of all recognition, over-thought. PRs, by contrast, are fleet footed. Their spatial awareness of the publicity landscape is second to none because careers spent responding to repeated brand events in real-time have honed their instincts and trained them never to slip up.

It also adds weight to a pet theory of mine: of communications professionals, it’s the PRs who skew furthest to the right (creative) side of the brain. Rightbrained functions, both numerical and linguistic, are much more involved with the comparative, the contextual, the pragmatic. While the leftbrain has the advantage when rigorously pursuing a clear, single minded idea, it must be difficult to wrap a leftbrained mind around an idea as mutable and intangible as a brand narrative.

While I think that Duik is probably taking this rather too seriously, her lawsuit should come as a warning to ad folk everywhere. In the modern world, the hierarchy of ideas does not flow from the comms professionals to the public. Communications must be discursive, responsive, and above all, narrative. Nobody understands this better than a good PR.

I feel that the new Royal couple may have a similar problem. I might have got hold of the wrong end of the stick, but they seem to be playing down much of the glamour that is surely an essential part of the royal schtick. Kate Middleton is subtly selling the idea she will be nothing like her deceased mum-in-law to be (there’s a simpler way, Kate – don’t promote landmine charities!).

What is the point of royalty if there is no glamour? The Royal spin machine is much more professional that it was thirty years ago, but that very spin cycle seems to be rinsing out the parts that make royalty royal. They balance media relations with some tough, side of stage legal rottweilers and these snarling beasts control the minds of editorial ambition.

Of course, the world has moved on and super celebrity couples are thick on the ground. Posh and Becks, Brangelina – you know, the motley crew. Arguably the choice to carefully craft the brand narrative has been pretty clever. Perhaps they are being made to stand out by stepping back.

Make no mistake, however; it’s all about trade and commerce. Forget the tea towels, sick bags and bunting – by all accounts the House of Windsor is good for tourism. Isn’t that the reason to spend tax payers’ money? Doesn’t the world love all the pomp and circumstance? They flock to our shores, not for the bucolic vistas and awesome old cityscapes but for a glimpse of the monarchy – don’t they?

We are a nation cryogenically frozen in a period costume drama and don’t the foreign consumers just love it! This Friday the nation, and the world, will bask in fuzzy marshmallow sunshine as another brood mare is given the royal seal of approval. The event hype is moving at a fabulously controlled pace and the glamour machine is on hand for this event at least. There’s a firm hand on the media tiller – even Harry has been bolted down!

But after the state pageant do we want the future to be seamless and without flaws? I guess we are entering a new age, one without calamities. A perfect, photogenic couple; a prince with an ‘arm’s length’ media policy, controlled offerings and a statesman-like and focused approach, sans plummy vowels.

If this is it for the Royal gaffe, I will be very sad! I will mourn the era of Royal misfits and hapless bit part players, the era of It’s A Royal Knockout and its knock-on effects. Harry, Fergie, Andrew, Sophie, Edward, I beg you – please don’t disappear! Please make an effort and break out of your media shackles once in a while to give us all a laugh!

I was struck particularly by yet another shamefaced government apologist stepping up to the mic this morning on the wireless, attempting to circumvent British foreign policy. For decades this country has hidden behind pragmatism. In the corridors of power, shabby conduct surrounds investment and support for some very dodgy regimes; take the (doubtless now much regretted) welcoming of Libya back into the fold as an ally in the war on terror some years ago as a prime example.

We are currently witnessing a host of government spokespersons squirming as they employ evasive tactics in assorted desperate bids to avoid answering searching questions about deals-with-the-devil past.

Someone once said that the art of diplomacy is to do and say the nastiest thing in the nicest possible way. In this new age of communications, is there a new way to expose the nastiness under the skin of diplomacy? Can we find a way to hold a light up to the darkness and make sure that the failures of those who avoid the consequences of their actions are clearly broadcast?

These PR sound bites and political clichés are usually concocted in the cauldron of warped Machiavellian PR spin-meisters. As the global media devours the aftermath of the event, the expression is already spiralling out of control. And I am offering you a chance to name and shame the worst offenders.

There is something exceedingly unpleasant and absolutely merciless about the increase in these ugly, meaningless but highly charged phrases. They sow cynicism and create disconnect. The bloated, faceless purveyors of half-truths and supercilious rhetoric need to be outed.

It is time to try and stop the arrogant few treating citizens with contempt. Folks, at the end of the day we understand the stuff of political cliché. I for one can see the big picture, but we must all have a clear vision for our future. We must stop flip-flopping on this issue.

It’s time for a change. It’s time to move forward. It’s time to move on. No more hidden agendas. Let’s take back our streets from the criminals. It’s time to get tough on crime. Our democracy is at stake. No dream is beyond our reach. We must determine the will of the people. We must do what’s in the best interest of the country.

Let’s find the best political cliché! Come forward with your nominations for the best cliché creator. Let’s name and shame the wordsmiths that conjuror these cringe-inducing clichés. Please post ideas in the comment section of the blog. Remember, the voice of the voters must be heard. Each vote is like a human voice. Every vote is precious.

How things change. The continued attempts to shake down Andy Coulson, who occupies Ingham’s position for David Cameron, are relentless – and are now getting to seem more than a little supercilious. Coulson is caught in the political version of some over-hyped heavyweight brawl – he is being pummelled on the ropes but his opponent is congenitally unable to administer the knockout blow.

The laundry in media land has always had some pretty grubby stains; the sort that not even a P&G miracle concoction could eradicate. Whisper it softly; the truth is that, behind closed doors, there is a huge amount of dark doings done in the name of business. Yes, those hiding and exposing a story, or playing with the truth, should remember that there are few who can hold aloft the sword of honour.

Truthyness seems to be to creeping into modern slanguage and becoming a much more ubiquitous term. I have heard, on numerous occasions, the phrase “it was true at he time”. So I strongly suggest we let he who is without sin cast the first stone, especially as most highly paid media figures do a pretty good job of escaping public inquisition.

Not that I am setting myself up as an apologist for Andy Coulson, but that does not prevent me from finding the pack pursuing him and baying for blood to be full of tiresome and sometimes unwarranted smugness.

The dark arts that can be brought to bear whilst getting a story are akin to taking drug in a sporting competition. Perhaps in 50 years time the use of drugs in sports engineering will be the norm (frankly, as sports subsidy becomes a thing of the past, the big pharma companies will be pretty much first in line to take the monetary strain) but right now, they aren’t in the slightest bit kosher.

I have seen some extraordinary liberties taken when it comes down to the business of folk protecting – and getting at – a story; they will do what it takes to ensure they provide ROI.

Unpalatable? Well, yes. It’s a dirty business trying to maintain success. But it is far too simple an approach to just focus fire on the mavericks – they are simply exotic cannon fodder.

Andy was a great tabloid editor in age of the merciless, aggressive competitor. Will he prove to be a mighty gatekeeper? Time will tell. The coalition faces some tough challenges; and not from the traction of its political foes but from the new digital articulation of dissent that the great unwashed have spread at their fingertips.