Fortunately, there are still enough people who buy The Independent, The Guardian, and The Times to justify continuing to print those newspapers, despite the lowest common denominator, circulation grabbing content of the papers that are generically referred to as the tabloids.

And sadly broadcasters for a while succumbed, at least partially, to employing ratings as a criterion instead of excellence, although there are increasingly signs of that particular tide turning.

The television revenue pie is not getting any bigger, so the slices have to get smaller and rely on income-generating alleged ‘voting’ and what amounts to gambling and also pandering to the seemingly endless number of people who want to be humiliated on television.

And I of course proved myself one of them when I joined ‘I’m a Celebrity’ six years ago, which I have never regretted for many reasons including realising how dependent I was on my ‘real’ life and family.

Yes, the world has moved on from Muffin the Mule, Billy Cotton’s Band Show, Dixon of Dock Green and Rainbow. Whether that is for the better or not, I will leave to you to decide.

When the career accountants replaced the programme makers in the upper echelons of television, numbers and data became everything, rendering obsolete the notion that a smaller number really enjoying a programme is preferable to lot of people not minding it.

Never mind the quality; feel the viewing figures. They have started, I am glad to say, to realise that and the quality of television has started to improve again.

But they still ruin our enjoyment of programmes by split-screening the picture at the end and allowing continuity announcers to bellow what’s coming next, very often in a tone and mood that cuts right across any involvement one might have had in the previous programme.

And we may just want to read the cast list! How many times have you had to rush right up to the screen to discover who ‘that actor’ was, because the upward scrolling credits have been reduced to a tiny fraction of the screen to allow them to demonstrate the dubious delights of what’s coming next? We can wait; we really can.

We know what we want to watch – for heaven’s sake let us enjoy it!

And I cannot be alone in wanting an end to those odd modern variations of the potter’s wheel of my childhood – the repeated Channel identity bits homespun film.