The assortment of men and women who walk on to the set of the nation’s most infamous reality television show this evening will not so much enter the Big Brother House as a last chance saloon. A programme that started out as an unusual experiment, with half-credible justification in social studies, has degenerated into a freak show. The antics displayed in the celebrity version were appalling, but these were the culmination of a steadily deteriorating trend.

The concept, in any event, is tired and tiresome and, unless it improves unexpectedly, the format should be consigned to the archives. It might be different if the tasks set for housemates graduated from It’s a Knockout slapstick to the serious acquisition of sporting skill in, say, badminton or bowls. Could Big Brother help housemates to stretch their minds in a round- robin chess championship and test their judgment and numeracy with the compulsory playing of contract bridge? Is there a role for some astutely primed discussion of grammar school education, the underuse of iambic pentameter in modern poetry, or the deployment at Wimbledon of HawkEye tennis line-call technology? Instead of creating factions and indulging mendacious observation of the mind games played in the ensuing distress, as highlighted in previous series, perhaps Big Brother should offer psychological training and reward those inmates who give the best help to their homesick, or house-sick, pals.

If the programme makers were truly adventurous, they would select inmates in the most random fashion and engage them in the most ordinary of activities. Humanity is fascinating enough without the parade.