At the time of writing, it seems highly likely that the BBFC is going, after over 6 weeks of deliberation, to refuse to grant the game a certificate. SCI are pressing ahead regardless, with a mid-November for a "zombified", green-blooded version of the title, which will doubtless be upgradeable to a fully red-splattered model via Internet patches within 24 hours at the most. The BBFC's decision, then, will have been rendered completely impotent, with their action achieving nothing other than to dramatically raise the game's public profile and doubtless triple its sales. So what's the point? And why is this increasingly irrelevant and out-of-touch organisation being allowed to stick its nose into the games industry's business anyway? I asked ELSPA's Roger Bennett how the BBFC got involved in the first place, and why the whole system is about to collapse calamitously about our ears.

"The video industry got into a real mess in 1984 when there were no regulations on classifying video. The Government and the media made a meal of the fact that some videos were offensive in terms of content. The Goverment told the industry to get its act together, but they failed, so legislation, in the form of the Video Recordings Act was introduced which required all video releases to be submitted to the BBFC, who until then, only had responsibility for classifying film. When the Act was passed, it explicitly excluded video games, unless they depict scenes of either: human sexual activity, or acts of force or restraint associated with such activity; mutilation or torture or other acts of gross violence towards humans or animals; human genital organs or human urinary or excretory functions; or techniques likely to be useful in the commission of offences."

Given the highly conservative nature of the business, it was clear that very few games were ever going to trouble the censors, and sure enough, less than 6% of games software has been submitted for BBFC classification since 1994, and of that 6%, less than 1% have been rated 18, all for alleged violent content. (Which is pretty depressing in itself, if you think about it.) All other software has been dealt with internally by the industry, in the form of the Voluntary Age Rating System, a Video Standards Council-overseen process designed specifically to keep games out of the BBFC's hands wherever possible.

"If we had not introduced the VARS when we did," says Bennett, "we would have been in the same boat as the video industry found themselves in 1984. There is no doubt that the Video Recordings Act would have been simply amended to remove the exemption for video games, which would have then been regarded in the same light as film and video -everything to be submitted to the BBFC for ratings. This would have cost the industry millions of pounds and huge delays in release options."

So far so good, then. But as the games audience has increased in age, the temptation to aim content towards more grown-up players seems likely to inevitably involve the BBFC on a more regular basis, and it's here that the troubles begin. The simple fact is that the organisation is in no way equipped to handle the job, given the huge and fundamental differences involved in rating games and films. A film is easy - sit down in front of a screen for two hours and you've seen the whole thing. Modern games can take many dozens of hours to play through fully, and obviously demand motor skills likely to be beyond the reach of the censors. To combat this, the BBFC insists on games being submitted in the form of videotaped playthroughs, a hopelessly inadequate system open to the easiest of abuse, given the necessarily infinitely-variable paths which can be taken through almost any game. (Got a fighting game with a nasty fatality in it? Just don't use that move when you're taping the game! After all, players might never see it, mightn't they?)

And it gets worse. "The BBFC judge games essentially entirely on graphic content," says Roger Bennett, "which while important to the environment for the game, is peripheral to the whole process of playing. It is primarily the gameplay that counts. It is an interactive challenge activity, like most other games. And yet, only last month they were unable to view a PC 4 minute demo because they didn't have a graphics card! Worst of all, they declined to inform the publisher and if I had not asked why no rating had been given, the demo would have sat around their filing systems for weeks. They are very difficult to communicate with and will not respond to any requests for information, especially on any game around which some controversy may occur. They are patently inefficient. Publishers have to add at least an extra six weeks into their release schedule, assuming it is not a controversial product. If it is likely to be controversial, goodness knows how long it can take."

With slippage the way it is already in the games business, the commercial implications of such delays are easy to see. Even so, if sensible decisions were being reached, it would be difficult to see an industry desperate to be taken seriously kicking up a fuss. Yet the Board's decisions are frequently hopelessly wayward and inconsistent. The original Carmageddon was also refused a certificate, a decision which was subsequently overturned by the European Court. The BBFC's new President, Andreas Whittam-Smith, though, clearly holds something of a grudge over the decision, being quoted recently in the Scotsman as saying "We lost the Carmageddon appeal, which was a shame. This was a game that gave you points for running people over and it was quite wrong that it was approved." In the light of such comments (which Whittam-Smith later admitted to be inappropriate to his position, and an expression of personal feeling, yet never withdrew), it's hard to see the Board's refusal to grant a certificate to the sequel (which is fundamentally identical to the original in just about every way) as anything other than a personal vendetta. (Despite repeated requests over a two-week period, the BBFC President claimed to be "too busy" to offer any comment to CTW on the matter). Clearly, this is a situation that can't go on.

So what's the alternative? Three options seem the most plausible: Firstly, a gigantic shake-up at the BBFC (unlikely). Secondly, the formation of a new, independent body specifically devoted to an official, legally-backed classification system for games (expensive and impractical). And thirdly, kicking the BBFC out of the equation altogether and extending the current voluntary system, which is the option backed by ELSPA.

"We believe that the VSC have been extraordinarily successful in rating the 94% of games published since 1994. There has been just one complaint in that time. Given our stated beliefs about the BBFC, we really do believe that the VSC are both better equipped and qualified to rate all games - their track record speaks for itself. Of course, it would require an amendment to the Video Recordings Act, to make all video and computer games exempt from BBFC classification, including the tiny number that lose their exemption currently. ALL interactive leisure consumer software including games, could then be rated under the present voluntary scheme. Alternatively, the ELSPA/VSC rating system could become mandatory under the Video Recordings Act. While it could take time to achieve, we believe it is worth working for. Currently, the system is confusing to publishers, retailers and consumers. We are lobbying the BBFC for a big improvement in the treatment of software publishers, a big reduction in rating time scales and much better quality and speedy feedback to publishers, especially those with controversial product content. We are lobbying the Home Secretary, his Minister, Lord Williams of Mostyn, the Home Office and Peter Luff, MP for our consituency here, who has already been very helpful and supportive of our stance."

In the meantime, however, it looks like we're all stuck in an ever-worsening mess. The lack of mature content will continue to be a barrier to mass-market acceptance of gaming, and the extraordinary obstacle course placed in the way of anyone even attempting to provide any will continue to dissuade all but the most bloody-minded (no pun intended) of publishers from having a go (even if they do think they're hard enough). Which, for those of us who realise the potential power of games, is a terrible shame. Hundreds of column inches have already been devoted to the furore surrounding Carmageddon 2, with many more doubtless to come, but for now, we'll leave the last word to The Independent.