Now, argues Una Mullally, her Faustian pact with celebrity is destroying her

IN HINDSIGHT, she didn't really have a chance, did she?

The minute Britney, preteen, posed her jazz hands for entry into The Mickey Mouse Club alongside Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera; the minute she was pulled out of school, and launched for stardom on the back of lungs and a voicebox that spelt C-A-S-H; the minute the self-conceived video that saw her dance raunchily through a school in a barely there uniform singing 'Hit Me Baby One More Time' (the directors wanted her as a cartoon superhero, but Britney said no and came up with the now iconic three-and-a-half minutes of visual pop culture), was released, she was destined to go the same way as many a naive, poorly educated and friendless child star has gone.

In fact, it's a wonder she held out for so long.

Britney Spears, at the tender age of 25 and one of the most famous people in the world has just gone through the most traumatic fortnight in her life.

Everyone knows Britney Spears. "Britney Spears was becoming increasingly popular and increasingly unclothed, and her undulating body ultimately became so familiar to me I felt we used to go out, " feminist writer and polemicist Ariel Levy wrote once.

Indeed, I've felt like I've gone through it all with Britney too. I was there when she announced she didn't believe in sex before marriage and followed up the statement by posing half-naked hugging a teletubby on the cover of Rolling Stone.

I was there when she strutted the red carpet with Justin Timberlake, when they broke up, when he hired a Britney lookalike for his video for the single Cry Me A River, and when she responded by ringing up MTV's TRL and sighed 'boys will be boys'.

I was there when she gave a coy interview to MTV about how one of her album tracks was about masturbation, and when she kissed Madonna live on stage at the MTV Video Music Awards.

I was there when the cracks began to show; when she married Jason Alexander in Las Vegas (it lasted two days) when she met Kevin Federline (formerly K-Fed now Fed-Ex), the man who dumped his seven-months' pregnant girlfriend for Britney; and when a video of her surfaced on YouTube apparently stoned and discussing the possibilities of time travel; when she gave birth to one son, and then another; when she nearly dropped one of them and drove dangerously with another; when she began passing out in nightclubs; when she filed for divorce; when she hooked up with Paris Hilton, hopping out of her car showing her vagina to photographers; and finally, during the past two weeks. Checking in and out of rehab, shaving her head and checking in and out of rehab again.

And at the time of writing, she was back in. Nobody's life has been so well documented as hers.

A surreal life

What's wrong with Britney? Is she a drug addict, an alcoholic? After Federline's friends gave accounts of lesbian orgies involving Spears, might she be repressing her sexuality? Is she depressed, post-natal maybe? Is she lost, deranged? Is it all of the above with lashings of a surrealness to her life? Ozzy Osbourne . . . in a rare moment of clarity . . . once mused about how strange a perspective the British queen must have of the world, given that all she ever sees outside are crowds of people smiling and waving little flags. Britney and her super-famous ilk must experience something similar in its surrealness. I ended up at a Hilary Duff concert in the Point Depot last year and was amazed at what this teenager had to deal with . . . thousands of kids screaming at her for an hour, then back to a dressing room, on to a tour bus, and repeat.

If that doesn't mess with your head, then what would?

For Britney, it happened on St Valentine's Day, when her family staged an intervention (for drugs, alcohol or both, we don't know).

Her long-term assistant and best friend Felicia Culotta had finally given up on her and wrote on a fan website: "There's just so much you can do to help a person . . . I don't dare want to be an enabler, and I cannot love her enough for the both of us. I cannot convince her in ANY way to love herselff I cannot save her from herself, nor can I commit her to any type of treatment program against her wishes and will." Spears entered the Crossroads (also the name of her first film) rehab centre and checked out less than 24 hours later. She flew to LA, rolled up to a salon in the early evening and demanded her head be shaved.

According to staff, she appeared agitated and out of it. They refused to cut her hair, so she grabbed the clippers and shaved off her brown extensions and the four inches of real hair underneath, mumbling that she was sick of people touching her. Staff closed the blinds, but her bodyguards opened them on her instruction, providing a bizarre show for the 50-plus photographers who follow her everywhere. Within an hour, the footage and images were online. Britney was having a breakdown.

Before long, she was in rehab again, and checking out again.

Kevin Federline filed an emergency custody suit. She could lose both of her children; Sean Preston and Jayden James.

It is impossible to imagine the life the super-famous lead. It's hard enough to imagine living with all of the 'stuff ' that's flaunted on episodes of MTV's Cribs, but perhaps more unimaginable is the intrusion, the complete lack of ability to lead a 'normal' life . . . well, as normal as a life full of money and fame can be. As Britney was readying herself to enter the 'Promises' rehab centre in LA, paparazzi were piling into a chopper in Santa Monica, having removed the doors on the aircraft to get the perfect shot. While Americans have always scorned the British press for their intrusive methods, their own tabloids have now far exceeded it, and the Brits seem polite in comparison, with their jolly references to reality TV stars' drunken stumbles and three-in-a-bed romps.

The democratisation of the paparazzi, and the shift of material online has created an intrusive scenario for celebrities. Gawker culture (gawker. com offers realtime updates on where celebrities have been spotted in New York . . .getting coffee, walking the dog and other such salacious activities) and the popularity of the paparazzi video thanks to sites such as TMZ. com mean that there is nowhere to hide.

The finest example of this is the blanket coverage given to the aftermath of Anna Nicole Smith's death. E! Entertainment offered an entire weekend to it last week, splicing footage of her reality TV show on that channel with disturbing stories about changing wills and who's-the-daddy plotlines.

Here was a woman built by the media in collaboration with herself. TMZ secured a photograph of her fridge, which was piled with Slim Fast and methadone. And later, more disturbingly, they broadcast a video of Smith, eight months pregnant and whacked out on methadone, her face painted like a clown, bleary and talking nonsense while the cameraman mused about how much the footage was worth. Death, it seems, was too good for the disturbed Smith. Now the sideshow of custody battles must be broadcast too. Videos of her body being wheeled into an ambulance are good enough for the evening news.

Britney still has a pinch of public sympathy left, but she too, could head the same way as Smith, ridiculed to death.

A girl thing No one is treated with more contempt by the public than a young, beautiful, rich and famous woman.

David Beckham is a genius, Posh is a waste of space (who made him famous again? Oh, and who cheated? ) Pete Doherty is a waifish vagabond junkie, but Amy Winehouse is a dangerously unstable liability. Donny Tourette can happily do coke in front of reporters with no consequences, but when Lily Allen is papped with a bottle of Bulmers in her hand, she's out of control. Kurt Cobain was a tragic talented lost boy, Courtney Love is evil and hysterical. With impeccable timing, Yoko Ono has just released a fantastic record called 'Yes, I'm A Witch'.

There is a historical fear of female hysteria, so when our young female celebrities (who make up most of the uber-famous) start acting cuckoo, the paparazzi go into overdrive. There is no gender equality when it comes to the famous. We expect . . . and applaud . . .

when our male rock stars shag and snort their way across the globe, but woe betide the girl who goes too far.

Of course, the celebrities themselves have a massive part to play in colluding with the media so that the identity they have created is nurtured to win maximum publicity and dollars . . . and also on the flipside, in the negativity that such action brings. But the appetite of the celebrity media is insatiable . . .

the more that is revealed, the more it insists on knowing . . . even, as with Anna Nicole Smith, unto death.

This is not a defence of celebrity, that we should leave the poor, rich, gorgeous millionaire alone. But we should not encourage unwelcome intrusion, and we should examine ourselves for fuelling the celebrity spying and stalking industry.

Celebrities might annoy us with their extravagant lifestyles and bizarre behaviour, but the intrusion has gone too far. As we see with Anna Nicole Smith, even in death, little dignity is allowed.

There is nothing more compelling than personal breakdown and human suffering. This is what is now being exploited, not just in the trashy magazines, but in every broadsheet, and national and international broadcaster who ran photos of newly bald Britney.

While Britney was happy to exploit the positives for press coverage . . . the number ones and groundbreaking videos and performances . . . it's the sadder, more tragic side of her personality that is now the focus of the coverage.

Lindsay Lohan (in and out of rehab herself) has suffered in a similar manner, with her hit films long forgotten amid the stories, pictures and headlines about her personal failings.

Similarly talented people such as Britney's peers Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera have suffered far less. They appear to be stable, with feet on the ground, more able to withstand the intrusions into privacy that their success brings, and always surrounded by friends or family members. When was the last time you saw Britney with anyone other than a bodyguard or baby son?