How to spot a true oddball

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QUEEN Victoria wore no knickers. The woman whose stratospherically high moral values stifled a whole country did not wear "drawers", as they were then called. As they divided the legs, she considered them immodest; but so did all right-minded women until well into the 19th century. Old ladies with no knickers are one of the eccentric clichs of today. Victoria, however, was simply rather old-fashioned.

Our perceptions of eccentricity have changed over the years. We are also affected by culture and geography. What is considered normal in liberal parts of London would seem passing strange in rural Devon and downright weird to a n'anga (witchdoctor)-revering Zimbabwean.

Different societies also tolerate varying levels of eccentricity: while the Japanese treat too much individuality with suspicion, the English positively relish their eccentrics. Think Spike Milligan; think, if you can bear to, Barbara Cartland. Our notions of "normality" are also formed through individual experience and knowledge. My friend Anthea eats sardines and apricots for breakfast. I, who was brought up on cornflakes, think that's deeply eccentric; she just says she's coping as best she can with a dodgy digestive system. I dare say if an eminent doctor backed her up I might start taking her eating habits more seriously. We all think we know eccentricity when we see it, but do we?

Into this subjective morass has stepped Dr David Weeks, a clinical neuropsychologist at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital. Inspired by his research on gifted children (eccentrics start young), Dr Weeks has spent the last 10 years studying more than 1,000 eccentrics in Britain and America. The result is the first ever scientific survey of the field (Eccentrics by David Weeks and Jamie James, Weidenfeld & Nicol-son, £17.99). "In the beginning," he admits, "we had no definition at all of eccentricity. We were seeing anybody." Weeding out hoaxers and practical jokers was one problem; then there were the "marginals" who displayed some eccentric characteristics sometimes. One of Dr Weeks's most vexing diagnostic tasks was to distinguish between eccentricity and neurosis. "Simply put," he says, "neurotics are miserable because they think they're not as good as everyone else, while eccentrics know they're different and glory in it." After the research was completed, Dr Weeks and his team came up with a 15-point empirically based list of characteristics that define eccentricity.

No single eccentric displays all 15 characteristics, but I decided to test the check list against John Ward of Wellingborough, an eccentric if ever there was one. With his jokey outsize glasses and Lord Longford hairstyle, John conforms nicely to the visual stereotype of the mad professor - although, oddly enough, an unusual dress sense does not appear on Dr Weeks's list. A mechanical fitter by trade, who left school at 15, John Ward is famous for making "contraptions" out of junk. People come from far and wide to stare at him, something he tolerates with amazing good humour; although, even he was somewhat taken aback when a pair of German scientists parked their van outside his house for two days in order to observe him at work. He hesitates to call his creations "inventions" since they have no earthly use (unless you call a mechanical bra-warmer useful). He has the occasional more serious idea and once wrote to the Innovations catalogue with a suggestion, but he didn't get a reply so now he sticks to making safety nets for yo-yos and the like. Inspired largely by an object's shape, John looks at, say, an old drinks dispenser then thinks "What can I make with that?" A rock launcher, of course. Obvious, really. John's most famous creation is his moon buggy, a one-man vehicle that most closely resembles Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on acid. He is, he says, "taking the winkle out of the system" and as long as he gets the GF (Giggle Factor) he's a happy man.

The first two characteristics that all eccen-trics share, says Dr Weeks, is that they are "nonconforming" and "creative". John Ward is clearly both. Nonconformity takes many forms, however. Marvin Staples, a Chippewa Indian from Minnesota, walks everywhere backwards because, he says, it makes him feel younger and has cured him of chronic backache and arthritis. Many creative artists - William Blake, Eric Satie, James Joyce, Beatrix Potter - could be considered eccentric, but high levels of eccentricity do not necessarily make for achievement.

Eccentrics are an unusually curious, Dr Weeks found. "Of all human motivations," he says, "the only purely intellectual one is curiosity, and eccentrics have it in bucketloads. For them, the process of discovery is its own reward." John Ward, an inveterate letter writer, would wholeheartedly concur. "If I'm not sure about somebody or something, I'll write and ask." As the mind-bogglingly chaotic state of his work shed testifies, John loves pulling things apart. He also has a penchant for car manuals: although he has no desire to own or even drive a Porsche, he knows how one works. Another curious eccentric, the Victorian explorer Mary Kingsley, earned the nickname "Only Me" on her first voyage, as those were the words with which she announced her arrival in the engine room, bridge, in fact anywhere passengers were prohibited from entering. Like John, she just wanted to see how things worked.

Virtually all eccentrics are idealistic. Is John? He stumbles briefly over this one as he has no time for politics or religion ("the Americans have the idea - they sell it"). But what of his quest for the Giggle Factor? He would not put his simple desire to make people happy in such high falutin' terms. But perhaps it stems from the purest idealism. John shares that desire with, among other, Dr Patch Adams, an American doctor who dresses up as a clown and says that if we all had his attitude we'd eliminate Prozac overnight.

The fifth most important element in the eccentric's make-up is, according to the research, a happy obsession with one or more hobby horses. Despite passing interests in everything from UFOs to old films, John could be said to major on contraptions. Others, like John de Locksley (given name John Russell), have a whole slew of obsessions. A former storeroom assistant for Borehamwood fire research station who traces his ancestry back to Robin Hood and is not averse to dressing up in a bit of Lincoln Green, de Lockley lists Count Dracula, King Arthur and Jack the Ripper among his many interests. He is at pains to point out, however, that he's only interested in things "based in reality".

Children as young as eight were included in Dr Weeks's research. Like them - and consistent with the study's findings - John Ward was aware that he was different from an early age. Even at primary school he was sewing together plastic helmets for the school play with wool rather than using glue (more "give", you understand?). And despite his lack of formal qualifications, he, like most eccentrics, is an intelligent man. The average eccentric, if there is such a thing, falls into the top 10-15 per cent of the population in IQ tests. Although, who's to say they all did their tests properly?

"Eccentrics tend to be opinionated and outspoken," says Dr Weeks. Bingo. John has views on everything, particularly people, and is unimpressed by fame; his comments on the many celebrities he has met in his numerous appearances on daytime TV shows are possibly libellous, probably accurate and quite unrepeatable.

Rather taken aback by his own fame, John is charmingly non-competitive - characteristic number nine. He has lived in he same scruffy ex-council house for 19 years and says, "I don't want a big car or a bloody great mansion. It's too stressful." A recent addition to the after-dinner speaking circuit, he is amazed to be paid for talking. He only started it, he says, because he was saving up for a hacksaw.

Although John often startles people by saying, "I don't want any more friends - I have enough difficulty seeing the ones I already have", he would not fall into the "hermit" category of eccentrics who have no interest in the opinions or company of others,a form of eccentricity Dr Weeks particularly recommends for anyone thinking of doing it on the cheap.

Bad spelling is another of the listed traits, and John jokingly claims that he won't eat it if he can't spell it . However, he has pretty conventional eating and living habits - unlike the potato inspector who will only eat potatoes and Mars Bars, or the man who rents out all four of his bedrooms and sleeps in his study. And although he is one of the many eccentrics who is an only child (or eldest child), John does not live alone but is married with four teenage children, of whom he is extremely proud.

"Do I pass?" asks John. "Do I get a badge?" Most resoundingly, yes. One last trait: many eccentrics have a great sense of humour. In this respect, John is top of the form. Of the Eric Morecambe/Ken Dodd school of comedy, his speech is scattered with wonderful tangential comments. One of the study's most gratifying findings for a Brit is that British eccentrics have a considerably better developed sense of humour than their American counterparts - unless you count Peewee Herman as funny.

But can the rest of us learn from eccentrics? Dr Weeks reckons he already has. "I am exhilarated in their company," he says, "by their ideas and their creativity." Ten years of working with eccentrics has rubbed off on him in other ways: "I am far more outgoing, self-confident and rebellious than I once was." He even commits the odd eccentric act, like climbing through his secretary's window in order to give her dictation. I know that after two hours in John Ward's company, I had a ridiculous grin on my face, despite the dismal weather.

Less prone to either mental or physical illness than the rest of the population, eccentrics are fundamentally happy. Unburdened by society's values, they give themselves free choice and so lead virtually stress- free lives. John Ward even gives informal stress counselling to friends and acquaintances. In an age in which 230m work days are lost through stress-related illness that certainly gives pause for thought.

As for Dr Weeks, his greatest - some would say eccentric - ambition is to open a happiness research foundation. Queen Victoria, you can be sure, would not be at all amused. !

THE OFFBEAT INDEX

Dr Weeks's 15 characteristics of eccentrics, in descending order of frequency (the first five apply to virtually every eccentric):

1 Non-conformity

2 Creative

3 Strongly motivated by curiosity

4 Idealistic

5 Happily obsessed with one or more hobby horses (usually 5 or 6)

6 Awareness that he/she is different from early childhood

7 Intelligent

8 Opinionated and outspoken

9 Non-competitive

10 Unusual eating habits or living

arrangements

11 Not very interested in the opinions or company of others, except to persuade them of the "correct" point of view

12 Mischievous sense of humour

13 Single

14 Eldest or only child

15 Bad speller