For my weekly writing spot on this site, see the One-Minute Mystic, with a new meditation posted every Monday. Also see The Village, the story of Misty Longings, England's most beautiful village, posted episode by episode earlier this year.       "Doctor, doctor! I keep making false assumptions about people! Do you know what is wrong?" "Relax, Simon – it could be nothing worse than the halo effect." "The halo effect?" "Yes, very common at this time of year." "You mean it's weather-related?" "No – BAFTA-related." I discover the "halo effect" to be a well-known psychological illness, which primarily damages the assessment glands; in its advanced stages, it can make fools of us all. The illness comes into play when we allow one assessment of someone to bleed into another. Say we find a film star attractive and likeable. We then transfer these assessments to other specific traits they may have, and imagine them, for instance, to be intelligent as well. (Especially if they wear glasses for the interview, and mention the environment.) Endless research into learning reveals that American students unknowingly make most of their assessments of data, on the basis of whether or not they like the lecturer. Likeable is everything, as politicians know better than anyone. Warm and friendly does it, because if they like your manner, they'll just love your ideas for the country – however mad. One assumption bleeds absurdly into another. The halo effect has other uses. In his book, Reputation Marketing," John Marconi says that to have "Harvard Classics" written somewhere on the front of a book, ensures that the publisher can demand twice the price of a similar book without this endorsement. Harvard's reputation as a university bleeds into our assessment of the content of the book, and therefore into the book price also. The opposite of the "halo effect", is the "horns effect" whereby we transfer negativity inappropriately. This is why a man with a ginger beard can never lead a political party in Great Britain. Because how can a man with a ginger beard have a decent idea? In the moral and intellectual credibility stakes, a ginger beard against a clean- shaven smile is just no contest. And for this reason if no other, we must hope the Messiah on his return presents appropriately. It's so important that we like him. I remember Rowan Atkinson, the comic performer, recounting the time he walked past two people he didn't know, with one saying to the other, "I hate Rowan Atkinson." They'd never met, of course – but presumably, he'd seen him playing one of his comic roles. That was enough; another ridiculous bleeding. Of course the biggest beneficiaries of the halo effect are the saints themselves. They stand haloed in stained-glass windows, and feel the warmth of our unreserved admiration. Just like our favourite film stars, they're good to look at, entirely likeable and pretty smart cookies on every subject under the sun. If they said it, it must be true. "Is there a cure for this, doctor? My assessment glands are a disgrace!" "Disconnect your assumptions, Simon. It's stating the bleeding obvious." More writings © Simon Parke