When I enter Professor Lee Smith’s office at the University of Edinburgh’s Centre for Reproductive Health , two things strike me: the stack of scientific papers on his desk and the mouse-shaped clock hanging from his wall.

‘It’s bespoke,’ he says, pointing to the latter. ‘You won’t see many of these about.’ Quite. The pendulum below it, swinging furiously from left to right, is designed to look like a pair of testicles. Not something you’d expect from the local Chair of Genetic Endocrinology, but, somehow, it fits.

Dr Smith , for all his myriad qualifications, is less boffin, more everyman – which is reassuring given that he holds our sperm in his hands – albeit metaphorically.

At just 39, Dr Smith – with the help of his team of scientists from Scotland, England, France, China and Taiwan – has found new scope for a male pill by safely blocking a vital gene called Katnal 1, which controls an early stage in semen development. "We work on the wider issue of male fertility and testosterone’s role in the body," he says, framed by pictures of his two children. "But when we inadvertently found a faulty gene that made men infertile, we suddenly had the basis for a contraceptive."

Dr Smith started his career at Oxford University during the late 1990s, where he worked on testes development and early sex determination – essentially, whether parents end up with a boy or a girl. Several years later, he was head-hunted for his current role in Scotland, where he now controls a £4.1 million grant from the Medical Research Council. Twenty-four months into his five-year tenure and he’s already pioneering knowledge where others failed.

"One of the key issues surrounding previous male contraception was the need to reduce testosterone in order to block sperm development altogether," he explains. "This can lead to unwelcome side effects such as acne and mood swings. Therefore, our non-hormonal approach, which prevents sperm development without changing testosterone levels, is a significant step forward. We now have an incredible advantage over drug development programmes."

Reassuringly, Dr Smith’s pill would allow sperm to be produced as normal, but would just inhibit them from maturing properly. Because this biological tweak is to a specific gene and not men’s overall hormone balance, it would also be side effect-free (which is a marketing masterstroke as much as a medical one).

For a closer look, we enter the lab. "Here’s the viral suite," he says. "This is where we take the DNA out of viruses, swap it for something we want, then use it to infect cells. We did this recently with our mice; it switched off certain genes in their testes, so we know how to make them infertile."

As we navigate it all, the obvious question is: why mice? "They’re a model. An inexact model, but a model all the same," he says. "Men aren't going to donate a testicle, but mice have the same cell types as men, the same hormones targeting certain cells and they also produce sperm. There are some structural differences, but – for the vast majority – it’s a good model."

OK, fine. But how successfully could the findings repeat in us? "In our studies with mice, we reduced sperm numbers by 89 per cent six weeks after beginning treatment – and of the remaining sperm, only five per cent were mobile," he says, confidently.

"This timeframe can be doubled for men as their sperm development is slightly slower. Twelve weeks from starting treatment would be a good ball-park figure. From this point, the patient wouldn’t be able to father children until he stopped taking the contraceptive. Then, full fertility would resume within two months."

Smith predicts the drug could be on the market within a decade – initially as an injection, then modified into gels and oral tablets for maximum global consumption.

However, this isn’t a one-man race.

"There are 200 papers a day being printed on what we’re doing, so it’s very much the first to publish..." he adds. "It’s like a journalist breaking a story. We’re all running towards the same finish line."

Four thousand miles away in India, scientist Sujoy Guha has spent the past 30 years developing Vasalgel; a one-off injection to a man’s vasa deferentia, the ducts which carry semen from the testes. This coats the inside of each tube, killing sperm as it passes through them.

One shot is effective for up to a decade and can be reversed with a second jab at any time. It’s now in the final stages of Indian medical and governmental approval and is on the cusp of FDA endorsement in the United States too.

Meanwhile, at Australia’s Monash University, scientists are working on the mutation of a gene called RABL2. This causes sperm to grow tails that are roughly 17 per cent shorter than average, meaning they’re una-ble to propel themselves towards a woman. "There’s truly a desperate need for more contraceptives," says Moira O’Bryan, who is leading the study. "Personally, I want to see a situation where every child is wanted. For many people, current contraceptive options aren’t enough or don’t fit their lifestyles. It’s a problem."

For men, this is particularly true. Whilst women enjoy the lion’s share of choices, we have just three: condoms, vasectomy and abstinence. No prizes for guessing which comes out on top. Even then, condoms are rarely the practical ideal. They vary in comfort and fit, they can be difficult or embarrassing to get on – risking erection loss – and, crucially, they can puncture – either literally, or the romantic mood.

In comparison, the female pill has been a monumental success since its launch in 1960, now being used by more than 100 million women worldwide (making a small fortune for drug companies along the way).

So why is a male version taking so long?

Whilst the latest developments may be new, the general concept is not. In the 1970s, Brazilian endocrinologist Dr Elsimar Coutinho developed one of the first ever male pill prototypes. Made from all-natural cottonseed, it didn’t go down too well with pharmaceutical companies for obvious reasons (hardly a money-spinner if the local health shop can produce a no-frills version for half the price), but it also suffered social resistance. When launched at the 1974 World Health Conference in Budapest, religious groups voiced concern and feminists staged a boycott, storming Coutinho’s presentation and demanding that only women – not men – should be making choices about parenthood.

Things picked up in the mid-1990s when two pharmaceutical giants, Organon and Schering-Plough, ran their own self-financed studies, but these got sidelined when they were bought out by competitors with different agendas. It all suffered a major retrenchment until recently. So, why the resurgence?

"Every now and again we reach a dam of knowledge," Smith says of the industry. "Then, as more information comes in, it clicks and, together, we take a step forward. That’s how science works."

Fortunately, one previous sticking point – religious objection – has since relaxed. "There’s no reason why men would be any different to the 98 per cent of Catholic women in America who ignore the bishops’ ban on birth control," says Jon O’Brien, President of Washington-based faith group Catholics for Choice. "The people who head the Catholic Church are obsessed with the pelvic zone," he adds.

"That’s why our organisation exists. So when they’re lobbying a UN official over family planning, we remind people to listen to the 60 million Catholic Americans who live in the real world, not the 350 US bishops who make the rules but are largely ignored."

Now, the bigger consideration is what a pill could offer the brotherhood. For most, the answer is obvious: limitless, no-strings sex. For the first time since Eve tempted Adam with that damn apple, men would truly be empowered to control the outcome of their sexual encounters, only becoming fathers when they wanted to.

Yes, accidents happen, but the unspeakable reality of men being "trapped" would also end overnight. Men would no longer find themselves becoming fathers when all they wanted (and agreed to) was a quick shag. No more shotgun weddings, no more duped daddies, no more surprise calls from the Child Support Agency.

That said, a male contraceptive would also be good for women. The original pill is highly effective, but packed with side effects that include weight gain, DVT threat and, rather ironically, reduced libido. To offer women respite from this is, at the very least, good manners.

I asked feminist writer Ariel Levy to give me her slant.

"I would welcome it, absolutely," she says. "I disagree with critics who claim it infringes on women’s rights: I’d say it expands their options. Men and women should share the burden of contraception. The tricky thing is that we’re still the ones who get pregnant, so for a woman to rely on the male pill as her only form of birth control, she needs to be in a relationship with a man she trusts pretty completely."

True. But hang on, don’t men have to trust women who say they’re on the pill? Yes, women may carry the child physically, but it’s usually men who carry it financially. Besides, if everyone took responsibility for themselves, wouldn’t it simply mean that all pregnancies were planned by both parties – all the time?

Paul Elam is a men’s rights activist from Texas and the founder of A Voice for Men. He argues that men have as much riding on pregnancy as women do in the long term, but not nearly as much control. "The arrival of a male pill would mark the first time in history that men will be empowered to see themselves as near full participants in reproductive choices," he says.

And it will force wider culture to see them in the same light too. This is important because men have historically been forced into a passive role in the reproductive picture.

Currently, men compete for sexual selection and wait to be chosen. When they are, they wait to be informed of any consequences. They wait to be told if the baby will be carried to term, or will be aborted. They wait to be told if they will be allowed to participate in the life of the child. They wait to be told what they will have to pay, and how much for how long, regardless of whether they want or intended to be a parent. The implied agreement when having sex is that men have no say in the outcome, and that if they don’t like it they should abstain.

In most areas that implied social agreement is backed by law. The male pill changes this forever because it gives men an attractive option to control the outcome of their sexual encounters.

It allows men to share the responsibility for birth control with women, without forcing them to forsake the pleasure of sex. If the male pill fulfils its promise of effective birth control with no side effects, it also may allow women to stop taking potentially dangerous medications that pose significant risks. With both men and women having options, it means pregnancy would be a conscious choice made openly between both partners.

What could be better than that?

When I put Paul Elam's views to Rebecca Fleming, head of press at the UK’s Family Planning Association, I expect fireworks. "We actually agree with him," she says. "When we talk to men, they are ideologically very supportive of contraceptive methods and managing their paternity."

She also points out that "countless men call the FPA’s helpline because they frequently find unplanned pregnancies 'devastating'. Our statistics show that half of all pregnancies are unplanned. We know these can be as distressing for men as they are for women, but it only strikes men at this point. And, once a woman is pregnant, they have no say on whether she keeps it or not. The only opportunity men have to exercise choice is at the contraception stage. That’s why we want to see more of them putting their reproductive needs first."

When I ask whether men are trustworthy enough to take a contraceptive, Fleming doesn’t mess around. "That’s just absurd," she says. "Men do responsible things every day."

She points me in the direction of a 2008 study by GfK National Opinion Polls, which shows that 36 per cent of men would happily take a male contraceptive if available, whilst a further 26 per cent might, providing it were safe and reversible (something which would be a medical pre-requisite anyway). Add these together and you have 62 per cent already on board.

I then approach the British Pregnancy Advisory Service – an organisation which guides women through their options around abortion. Clare Murphy, BPAS’s Director of External Affairs, says men should ignore the cynics (some might call them misandrists) who say they’d be unreliable with a pill. Especially as our only other real option – the vasectomy – is increasingly unavailable on the NHS. "After condoms, vasectomy is the sole protection for men," she says. "Even then, we’re seeing a decline in their popularity due to funding cut-backs, so it’s either not available or severely restricted. Additionally, men are also more conscious that relationships break down. If they do, they naturally want the option to start a second family elsewhere."

In 2001/02, there were 37,700 UK vasectomies, compared with 15,106 in 2011/12. The figures have fallen 16 per cent from 2010 to 2011 alone.

But would the NHS even bother to prescribe a male pill if it were available? Under equality legislation, they’d probably have to, says Murphy. In fact, they’d open themselves up to litigation on the basis of gender bias if they didn’t. The tricky bit, she adds, isn’t legal wrangling or the fear of high-profile discrimination cases, but finding a drug company with the courage to invest in something new.

Perhaps the stumbling block isn’t willingness, but the practical difficulty of controlling millions of sperm as opposed to one egg. Likewise, the epic task of bringing a product to market isn’t easy either. It goes a little something like this: after scientists make their initial lab discovery, bio-tech partners create a compound to prove it won’t wreak havoc on the body’s other cells. A prototype is then made for human drug testing, which is a three-stage, ten-year process conducted under strict medical supervision. Only then, if nobody dies or grows an extra limb, can it be considered for commercial use. At this point, a marketing plan must be devised to ensure the end product doesn’t flop. And even then it’s a risk.

"It’s to do with maths," says Dr Allan Pacey, Chair of the British Fertility Society and Senior Lecturer in Andrology at the University of Sheffield’s Medical School. "Both the methods and the market are already there. Ultimately, it’s now about convincing the venture capitalists to step up, but it’s extremely expensive."

Fortunately, Pacey thinks Professor Smith stands a good chance because his approach has a unique selling point.

"All it will take is one of the smaller pharma companies [who are constantly looking for that competitive edge] to take the plunge," he says. "And because the latest developments centre around non-hormonal methods, it’s much more likely to happen. Think of an independent record label launching a new act before a major buys them out."

But how would it be sold? I track down Dr Peter Rost, Pfizer’s former vice-president of marketing. Since his sensational departure from the company in 2005, which saw him fired after claiming that Pharmacia, a company Pfizer bought in 2003, illegally encouraged the sale of human growth hormones, he’s reinvented himself as a bona fide media maverick. (US President Barack Obama’s Chief of Staff, Rahm Emanuel, famously wanted to nominate him for a Guts of the Year award following his public swipe at his former employers.)

So, how would he sell it? "It would be tough because men don’t have the fear factor of getting pregnant,’ he says from his office in New Jersey. "That’s a very big marketing device with women. Instead, a better approach would be to imply that only the bravest men would take it. This isn’t necessarily true," he adds. "But it taps into their psychology. Ultimately, echoing the control message of the 1960s would also work because men have never really had that – yet they want it."

Whether a pharmaceutical giant would give it to them is another story, he adds. "Yes, men would be very cautious about taking such a drug at first – because it’s tinkering with their virility, albeit temporarily – but not nearly as much as the companies who are too scared to supply it."

This isn’t a lone theory. In an interview with The Independent, legendary Austrian-American scientist Carl Djerassi, the guy known as the father of the pill, voiced his own doubts on a male equivalent becoming a reality – because men don’t demand it. "This has nothing to do with science; we know exactly how to develop [the male pill], but there’s not a single pharmaceutical company who will touch it – for economic and socio-political, rather than scientific, reasons," he said. "Their focus is on diseases of a geriatric population: diabetes, obesity, cardiovascular, Alzheimer’s. Male contraception is nothing compared with an anti-obesity drug."

Days later, I find one of Peter Rost’s books, The Whistleblower: Confessions of a Healthcare Hitman, in a charity shop. It’s a shocking exposé of the medicine industry. Fascinated, I find a quiet corner in my local pub and read it within hours. As I leave, I nip to the bathroom. There, I see a condom machine. Rusty, empty and defaced with graffiti, it looks pathetic. Here is man’s only real contraceptive choice – unavailable.

An old, dog-eared piece of paper with the words OUT OF ORDER! is sellotaped across it.

My sentiments exactly.

This is an edited extract from Stand by your Manhood by Peter Lloyd (Biteback Publishing £16.99), which is available to order from Telegraph Books at £15.29 + £1.95 p&p. Call 0844 871 1515 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk