Voicing distraction

Obvious distractions:I love a good survey. There's nothing I like better than a pile of statistics I can mould to prove or disprove any mad theory that takes my fancy.

Whether they're valid or not is, usually, incidental.

Sometimes they're weighty tomes chock-full of dense analysis, impenetrable to all but the smartest of alecs. Which is where I come in. Others are mere lightweights that go to great lengths to disguise the fact they are merely dressing up the blindingly obvious in a suit of momentous proportions.

One survey that I came across recently falls like a hippo that's been shot out of the sky into the second category.

I won't embarrass the authors by identifying them, but it was commissioned by a British road safety campaign group.

It explains that getting distracted while driving - be it by changing CDs; eating a nice sage and gorgonzola risotto; threatening your recalcitrant children with furious anger; painting your toenails in the colours of the Iraqi flag; doing some deep cavity nostril excavations with a fork; using the rear-view mirror to guide you while you tattoo the lyrics of your favourite Robbie Williams song on your forehead or just plain old nattering like a chimp with Attention Deficit Disorder on your mobile phone (Okay, so I made a couple of those up. But you get the jist) - makes you more likely to crash.

Duh. You don't say. I really hope they didn't pay some consultant to compile that particular work of earth-shattering revelation.

For the vast majority of the morass of mediocrity that makes up the human race, mastering one task at a time is an achievement.

Sitting on the couch? Grand. Sitting on the couch and watching TV? Bit trickier. Sitting on the couch and watching TV and scratching your backside? All at once? A recipe for disaster. The average human would be floundering on the floor like a sedated amoeba under such a heavy taskload.

Thankfully, couches don't hurtle into immovable objects at immense speed. You can usually get away with losing control of them when it all gets too much.

But cars are a different matter. Get distracted while driving and you can end up in a whole world of pain, spilling a lot more than your nachos.

One of the worst distractions, according to the authors of the survey, is the Sat Nav. An ardent Luddite like me has little use for such gadgetry. If maps or sheer luck can't get me to my destination, it's fate's way of telling me I didn't really want to get there in the first place.

The survey's authors are lobbying for Sat Navs to be made screenless, relying solely on vocal commands to direct drivers. Which is nice. You can already go on the internet and download patches for some Sat Navs that will give them a whole range of voices.

If I were to take the Sat Nav plunge, it would only be after thinking long and hard about what voice to use. My sanity is delicately balanced. Were I to pick the wrong voice, the consequences could be dire.

For example, if I installed Clint Eastwood's drawl, I'd soon get tired of him asking "Do you feel lucky, punk?" and chuck it out the window, thus answering his question.

Similarly, a Robocop monotone warning me I have "20 seconds to comply" or Mr T telling me he'd "pity the fool who takes a left here" would lose its appeal fairly sharpish.

On the other hand, if my Sat Nav spouted its directions in the sultry tones of a young Brigitte Bardot, things would be very different indeed.

I'd spend the day disobeying it on purpose, just to hear her call me a naughty boy. Again and again and again.