As an incumbent of the role from 1973 to 1985, I believe that I was (and still am, if the pacemaker keeps working) the longest-serving James Bond in the franchise’s history, with seven adventures under my light tan safari-suit belt.

I am an aficionado of James Bond – both the books and the films – and of course have a vested interest in the franchise. But more than that, I have a vested interest in the character. I feel protective towards him. When I hear people say: “Oh, why don’t they call it a day and kill him off?” I feel compelled to speak out, like a custodial father. It’s true that, like Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes, Fleming once toyed with killing off Bond. But his readers protested and he listened. They wouldn’t allow James Bond to die then, and I don’t believe we should any time soon either.

Sean Connery was the first and in my and many other people’s opinion – damn him! – probably the best Bond as he originated and defined the cinematic interpretation of the character. When Sean departed (for the first time) I remember the critics saying that was that. The series had chalked up five entries and it was all over, so they reckoned. Yet here we are 46 years later, on the eve of yet another film, Quantum of Solace – a Fleming title by the way – hitting the screens. Bond has survived not only Sean Connery’s departure, but five other actors too, and he’s thrived. What’s more, he’s now more popular than ever. He’s hardly breathing the last gasp of a dying man, is he?

Daniel Craig impressed me so greatly in his debut outing, Casino Royale (and I had to buy the DVD myself, so it is praise not heaped lightly!) by introducing a more gritty, unrefined edge to the character that I thought Sean might just have to move over. Craig’s interpretation was like nothing we’d seen on screen before; Jimmy Bond was earning his stripes and making mistakes. It was intriguing to see him being castigated by M, just like a naughty schoolboy would be by his headmaster. The script showed him as a vulnerable, troubled and flawed character. Quite the opposite to my Bond! Craig was, and is, very much the Bond Ian Fleming had described in the books – a ruthless killing machine. It was a Bond that the public wanted. Damn him as well!

Craig is a James Bond for the noughties. The world has changed; it is a darker, more dangerous place and the producers have wisely acknowledged that. In the shadow of Jason Bourne and Batman Begins the producers took the brave decision to reboot the character and move away from the high jinks plots and gadgets that had dominated later entries in the franchise and to ground his adventures in the cruel reality of the present world. With the series having crossed five decades and all parts of the world – grossing an estimated $4.5 billion along the way – and with Fleming’s Bond now well past retirement age, you could be forgiven for asking, surely he should be running out of steam by now?

I understand the story of the new film kicks off ten minutes after the end of Casino Royale with Bond in pursuit of the killers of his lover Vesper, and the powerful, secret organisation that they work for. I also understand it shows Craig’s Bond as a slightly more polished 007 – the 007 we have come to know, the one who doesn’t make so many mistakes. I can’t wait to see it, and judging by the news that cinema box-offices started taking booking seven weeks ahead of its release, I’m not the only one. Far from running out of steam, Jimmy Bond is firing on all cylinders.

Back in 1962 when Bond first hit cinema screens, I was in the first of a six-year-run of The Saint. Subsequent rumours have suggested that I was “in the frame” for the part back then; I was certainly not aware of it nor was I ever approached and in any event I was contracted to playing Simon Templar. I had to wait until the late 1960s, when, after You Only Live Twice, Sean bowed out and I was approached to star in a Cambodia-set 007 adventure.

Discussions were soon shelved though when trouble broke out in the country, and I went on to graze other pastures, leaving the way clear for an unknown Australian actor named George Lazenby to pick up the Walther PPK in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in 1969.

In 1973 they needed a new James Bond. Though I was older than Sean had been when he said “never again”, I was described as a hero type and the perfect fit for Bond. It had long been decided that Bond should remain of an age – he shouldn’t ever grow old, though he should be adapted to modern times. I knew I had to make the part my own, without changing the character beyond recognition. I couldn’t merely impersonate anyone else either. Bond had to evolve, we decided, but not too much one way or the other. How did I differ from Sean? Being a coward, I hated guns and would far rather have tried to disarm an opponent with a flippant remark, whereas Sean would knock them out cold. That was the difference in our characters.

Guy Hamilton, the director of my first film, Live And Let Die, decreed that I should not have any of the lines associated with Sean, such as “Martini, shaken not stirred”. The inevitable “Bond, James Bond” could not be avoided, though I was conscious of not saying it with a Scottish lilt. I decided not to take the character too seriously and made him a little more flippant, lighter. It suited my personality and limited acting ability. And they kept asking me back. Reinvention, though not recreation, was the key to Bond’s longevity. That’s still true, I believe. Three films later, after A View to a Kill in 1985, I decided that Old Father Time was catching up with me and I should graciously hang up my PPK and retire from the role. It was a great sadness to me (and my bank manager). I felt I was part of a family; I looked forward to going to work each day.

Cubby [Broccoli] again decided to reinvent and recast. He brought in Timothy Dalton as a more chaste 007. Timothy is a brilliant actor and I’m told was a very good Bond. I never saw his films – purposely to avoid having to answer “What do you think of Timothy Dalton?”. His tenure was cut short by a lengthy legal battle between MGM and the Broccoli family over rights. Six years later, with all resolved, Cubby Broccoli announced he was reinventing the franchise and recasting in the form of Pierce Brosnan. The critics said there was no place for Bond in the 1990s. The Cold War was over. Bond was a “misogynist dinosaur”. That’s it. All over.

I saw one reel of Pierce’s first movie, GoldenEye. I was blown away. Pierce had charm and charisma, and with a natural sense of fun, delivered light-hearted quips with panache – but at the same time seemed totally believable; much as Sean had been.

I next joined Pierce and co at the premiere of Die Another Day in 2002, which marked the 40th anniversary of the series. When asked later what I thought of the film, I merely said “interesting”. In truth I thought it just went too far – and that’s from me, the first Bond in space! Invisible cars and dodgy CGI footage? Please! They gave the public what they wanted, though maybe they too realised there was only so far they could push it before Bond became a caricature of himself, and the funeral directors were called in.

Four Bonds were present that night: myself, Pierce, Timothy and George. Curiously, you might think, we never talked about the part or how we each played it. In our own ways we’re all grateful for it coming into our lives and all respect the others’ interpretation of it. That respect prohibits any mutual analysis. Besides which they all know I was the best Bond.

Pierce has since made way for Daniel Craig and a new era. The death knell was again sounded upon the news being released. And yet again the producers delivered what the public wanted.

So, should Bond pack it all up and move in to a retirement home? The short answer is that while the cinema-going thirst for Bond remains so high; while the producers keep their finger on the pulse and trust their instincts; and while Daniel Craig carries a Walther, there is no question of the franchise ending. By reinventing and updating Bond, he goes from strength to strength.