Today brought the news that infamously incompetent exam board Edexcel has developed James Bond-style technology to discourage A-Level and GCSE cheats.

I had assumed that the better-than-even chance of your paper getting lost/being marked incorrectly/arriving on your desk written in invisible ink would discourage cheats and swats alike. And anyway, exams are so much easier than when I did them there's no need to cheat. But as ever in life, it seems there are people willing to bend the rules.

That being the case, Edexcel's approach is to be commended - although I can't be alone in finding it sweet that any group of grown-ups would attempt to prove itself more tech-savvy than any given teenager. And then publish the results so that the script kiddies and wastrels can really get to work.

We live in an odd world. For every tech breakthrough that makes life easier, there's some duvet dweller chewing crisps writing a hack to empty our virtual pockets. And so it follows that the recent explosion in the number of increasingly sophisticated examinations has by necessity created a mini-industry in fraud-prevention.

I suppose it's human nature: wherever someone is prepared to graft to get results, there's always another grifter delighted to work equally hard beating the system. I should know, journalism is after all white-collar benefit fraud (with marginally better pay and slightly less exposure to Jeremy Kyle).

Where I come from we like to stress that where's there's muck there's brass, but it's equally true that wherever in the world you find a steady source of brass you'll invariably find a mucky kind of person.

Still, it's heartening to know that so long as obesity doesn't prevent them fitting in the exam hall, they're allowed to listen to young-people's music on their mobile phones and they can stay out of the way of their colleagues' blades, tomorrow's workforce will be well-versed in tech fraud, if nothing else.