RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: If we have nothing to hide, then why should we have to prove it? Foreign Secretary William Hague was quick to reassure us that we have nothing to fear after reports that GCHQ has been operating a covert snoopers' charter Those who have nothing to hide have nothing to fear. Every time the State wants to extend its powers, this trite phrase is wheeled out. Whenever I hear those words I am engulfed by a profound sense of unease. If we have nothing to hide, then why should we have to prove it? Foreign Secretary William Hague was quick to reassure us that we have nothing to fear after reports that GCHQ has been operating a covert snoopers" charter. It is claimed that the British security services are using a secret American computer surveillance programme called Prism to spy on our emails and other online activity. The U.S. National Security Agency has been accessing private information from internet giants such as Google, Microsoft and Facebook and passing it on to GCHQ. Information collected outside the UK is not subject to British legal safeguards. This is said to allow GCHQ neatly to sidestep the requirement in this country to obtain a warrant to intercept emails and monitor social networking pages. Hague, one of our most honest and trustworthy politicians, dismisses concerns about GCHQ's activities as "baseless" and "fanciful nonsense." I don't doubt his sincerity. In the normal course of events, I'd be inclined to accept his reassurances. I'm as staunch a supporter of the Atlantic Alliance and the security services as the Foreign Secretary. Countless terror plots have been foiled by the close co-operation between our own Funny People and their American counterparts. Even after the murder of Drummer Lee Rigby in Woolwich, I refused to join the rush to judgment. The two "suspects" may well have been on the security services" radar, but all the electronic surveillance in the world won't prevent anyone laying their hands on a meat cleaver and mounting a medieval attack in broad daylight. That hasn't stopped the security lobby demanding the resurrection of the Bill which would allow the State to harvest all our internet activity. Look, we all accept absolutely that those charged with keeping us safe from terrorism must have the power to track the movements and communications of those who pose a clear and present danger. The reality is: they've got that authority already. And even if they haven't, I've always assumed they did it anyway. That's their job. But there have to be limits. And spying on all 60 million of us is a bridge too far. Most people on this side of the Atlantic would agree with the sentiment expressed by President Obama when the Prism story exploded in the States: "You can't have 100 per cent security and 100 per cent privacy." Correct. But nor should we be entitled to zero privacy, either. OK, so we already surrender a treasure trove of personal information every time we shop online or surf the net. That's the cost of doing business in the age of the world wide web, whether we like it or not. Most would agree with the sentiment expressed by Obama when the Prism story exploded: 'You can't have 100 per cent security and 100 per cent privacy.' But nor should we be entitled to zero privacy, either I don't particularly like it, but what can you do? If you want to buy a CD or a book from Amazon you have to hand over your address and credit card details as a basis for negotiation. You don't have to be Hercule Poirot to build up a reasonably accurate profile of someone from their Amazon and Google activity. I'm always amazed at the intimate stuff people post on Facebook or send out via email. But at least it's voluntary. That doesn't mean we would welcome a spotty youth at GCHQ trawling through every aspect of our online existence like a primary school doctor combing hair for nits. Of course, it's absurd to suggest that the Funnies will spend all day scouring personal emails. They've got better things to do. But there's no accounting for human nature, especially curiosity. Most of us would be unable to resist the temptation to peek at someone else's private communications, given half a chance. Granting the State the right to trawl through every dot and comma of our online existence would be another sinister step down the route of everyone being guilty unless they can prove themselves innocent What if an agent at GCHQ suspects his missus is having it off with her tennis coach? Do you really think he will be able to restrain himself from trawling through the bloke's emails and surfing history to try to dig up some dirt on him? Why did some people at the News of the World hack into voicemails on an industrial scale? Answer: because they could. They couldn't help themselves. The problem is: if you give people the technology, they will always abuse it. Yet while dozens of journalists have been arrested - and some have been charged - no action has been taken against Google, which sent spy cars along every street in Britain hoovering up private information from home wi-fi networks. What's the difference? Google insists its intentions were benign, but if a burglar broke into your house and sifted through your bank details, photocopied your personal correspondence and stole your address book, he'd be nicked. So why has no one at Google been arrested for electronic burglary? Furthermore, how can anyone be sure anything online is genuine? For instance, I'm not on Twitter or Facebook, but I'm told there are at least a dozen people out there in cyberspace pretending to be me. What if one of them decided to threaten a terrorist attack, or post explicit child porn pictures? How long before I'd get the six o'clock knock from the heavy mob? It would then be down to me to prove that it was nothing to do with me. As the old adage has it: a lie is halfway round the world before the truth has got its boots on. And, as I have always maintained, just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not out to get you. We've already seen British justice turned on its head arbitrarily in the way police are approaching allegations of phone hacking and "historic" sex crimes. They arrest first and then go looking for evidence afterwards. Granting the State the right to trawl through every dot and comma of our online existence would be another sinister step down the route of everyone being guilty unless they can prove themselves innocent. Still think those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear? Hague assures us that all the activities of the security services are subject to "democratic oversight." I'd like to believe him and I'm sure, by and large, the Funnies stay within the legal boundaries. But how can we be certain? This column isn't given to coming over all Boris Johnson, but in the words of the Roman satirist Juvenal: "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" Who will watch the watchmen? While digging her garden, 65-year-old Carole Longhorn struck a metal object with her spade. She dug it up, carried it indoors and plonked it down on a coffee table. Her husband Clive, 60, recognised it as an unexploded World War II bomb. Danger, UXB! Minutes later, Clive wandered into the kitchen to find Carole washing the mud off it in the sink. Minutes after his wife Carole dug up an unexploded World War II bomb from the garden, Clive wandered into the kitchen to find her washing the mud off it in the sink. Makes you proud to be British An RAF bomb disposal team rushed to the house in Melton Constable, Norfolk, and carried out a controlled explosion. Clive said: "They said it was live and we were very lucky." I love the idea that Carole couldn't bear the thought of having a muddy bomb in the house. Makes you proud to be British. Now hands that do dishes can be soft as your face with mild green . . . Zombies are everywhere these days. But according to Naomi Alderman, an alleged zombie "expert," they didn't exist until 1968. She told the BBC's Today programme that zombies first appeared in the 1968 movie Night Of The Living Dead. Naomi wasn't born until 1974, so I assume no one told her about The Zombies, the pop group formed by Colin Blunstone and Rod Argent in St Albans in 1962, and last seen a couple of months ago playing on a Caribbean cruise with the Moody Blues. It's too late to say you're sorry, Naomi. How could she know, why could she care? She couldn't be bothered trying to find out. She's not there. Yes, it's Sally Burka Lauren Booth pictured wandering down the street in full Islamic garb. The skirt looked as if it had been designed by Sir Christopher Cockerell, inventor of the hovercraft Loved those pictures of Lauren Booth wandering down the street in full Islamic garb. The skirt looked as if it had been designed by Sir Christopher Cockerell, inventor of the hovercraft. The first time I was introduced to her, not long after her half-sister, the Wicked Witch, moved into Downing Street, I said: "I know who you are. You're Billy Carter. "Who?" she asked. "The embarrassing relative," I replied. Billy Carter was the notorious redneck, beer-swilling brother of President Jimmy Carter. Lauren certainly made the most of her links to the WW and Tony Blair, writing newspaper articles, posing in short skirts, turning up on reality TV. She was the Sally Bercow of her day, minus the tweets. After that, she went through her Petula Clark phase, and moved to France. Now she's converted to Islam, and has run off with another woman's husband. Normally, I'd give it about five minutes before she reinvents herself again. But maybe her luck's run out this time. You know what they do to apostates . . . Two Oxford University academics plan to have their bodies cryogenically frozen and brought back to life in the future. They needn't bother. Such is the pace of change these days, most mornings I wake up and, after listening to the news for about five minutes, think that either I've been cryogenically frozen or the world has moved on 50 years overnight.