Marriage's sell-by date

Does marriage reach its sell by date after seven years? German politician Gabriele Pauli, pictured below, thinks so. Campaigning for the leadership of the conservative CSU, she has advocated a seven-year expiry date for marriages.

Well, that'll keep them on their toes.

But maybe she has a point. After all, marriage might be until death us do part, but the Grim Reaper's taking a lot longer to turn up these days. Unlike previous generations who were lucky to get past 15 years or so, today's 20 something bridal couples could be potentially signing up for 70 or 80 years. Now that's commitment. If not downright scary.

Some lucky, and determined, people make it. There's a new market in 70th wedding anniversary cards. Brilliant - but pretty daunting.

No wonder couples who bother to get married are leaving it later and later - the average age now is 30 for men, 28 for women, five years older than 20 years ago. Marriage is too grown up to waste on the young. At this rate, the average bride will soon be menopausal before she takes her vows. We won't marry for love, but for the pension instead.

So maybe there's something to be said for a seven year contract. After all, marriage was always a legal arrangement and, increasingly aware that things can go wrong, more couples are insisting on a pre-nuptial agreement. Perhaps the time is right for a rolling renewable contract instead.

Sign up for seven years, with an option to renew every year after that.

Happy marriages would carry on, blissfully unconcerned. Those in trouble would have an easier, possibly less traumatic way of ending.

And surely every marriage would benefit from a bit of discussion every now and then. If nothing else, negotiating the new contract would always be interesting.

University students in the UK apparently spend less time studying than their European counterparts, managing an average of only 26 hours a week.

Gosh, that much? I can remember doing very little work at university - probably why I got a rubbish degree.

On the other hand, in between a great deal of socialising, I did a lot of talking, discussing and arguing with people of all ages and backgrounds whom I would never otherwise have met. I also went sailing, climbing, produced a magazine, stage managed plays, wrote for TV and learnt a lot about cider and how to mend blown fuses.

Above all, I read - anything from Beowulf through Chaucer and Shakespeare up to science fiction and everything - almost literally - in between.

It was an incredibly privileged time, and despite my late essays and missed lectures, I learnt a lot more than in any other time of my life.

Despite my lack of work, it was a mind-expanding experience of the best sort. And isn't that what university is meant to be all about?

IT was one of those statistics that just make you stop and think, coffee cup in mid air.

This Christmas we will be importing 370,000 tonnes of toys from China. That's apparently 67lbs of toys for every child. Imagine 13 bags of potatoes and you've got a rough idea.

And that's just the Chinese toys.

Now I am not one to plead a return to the days of a skimpily filled stocking and be grateful. My children had more than their share of brightly coloured plastic and electronic gadgets, bits of which still surface in the oddest places. Santa risked doing his back in just coming to our house. But 67lbs?

When do kids get to play with them all? Do they realise what they have? Do they love them as much as we loved our toys? Do they get the most out of them, or are they just glanced at and flung in the back of the cupboard?

Maybe we're just overwhelming them. Too much choice is not always good, especially for tinies. Never mind our wallets.

Even worse - if they're getting 67lbs of toys this Christmas, what on earth will they expect next year?

New research shows that it's mostly men who are geniuses. We could argue against this at great length, of course, but shall simply content ourselves by asking: If men are so clever, why can they never find their clean socks