Serious lack of Benefits to this modern freak show

A day out at the madhouse was regarded as great entertainment by the Victorian middle-classes, peeking through viewing grilles at those less fortunate than them.

Circuses always made good value from freak shows.

"Roll up!?Roll up! It's the unforgettable Elephant Man!"

Of course, these days we look back on such behaviour as, well, bonkers. Or do we?

Is there much difference between the asylum gawpers and its modern-day equivalent, TV's Benefits Street?

Both offer a voyeuristic insight into the abject misery and terrible living conditions of others, all from a safe distance. The Victorian viewing grille could be slammed shut, the 42ins plasma can be switched off.

So far the series, set in Birmingham's James Turner Street, has introduced us to junkies, alcoholics, benefits cheats, shoplifters, people traffickers, a hammer wielding-maniac . . . and the Britain in Bloom committee.

OK, the Britain in Bloom people were being chased by the hammer wielding maniac, but they were in there – purely in the interests of balance.

And when it came to balance, that was about it.

Because I'm pretty sure that not everyone on the street is a low-life scrounger or thief. However, that's not what the programme makers would have you believe.

There are probably plenty of decent people living in the 99 houses, but they wouldn't make great primetime TV: "Tonight, the Jones are having a pizza and watching Ant and Dec. Zzzzzz."

Instead, the makers have sought out The Story; the one they set out to get in some swish London office, a million miles from the 'terrors' of the terrace.

Obviously they have duplicitously attempted to pretend otherwise, but poverty porn is what they were after – and that's what they've got.

"Roll up! Roll up! It's the Brummie freaks and their amazing missing teeth!"

Now, they could have looked at why so many of the residents are unemployed and whether they would be any better off taking on work.

Answer:?Probably not.

They could have questioned those in authority about the plight of the Romanian immigrants, so threatened and bullied by their gangmaster that they eventually preferred to sleep rough in a park.

But they didn't.

Instead, they cynically chose to shine their light on the least fortunate in society, not in the hope of raising important social issues . . . but to make good telly.

If it leads to people making sweeping generalisations and demonising the workless class, so what??Look at the ratings.

And it's working. Viewing figures were up from five million in the first week to seven million this.

But that's not the issue here; the real problem is the reaction the programme has predictably stirred up.

The usual hate-mob couldn't get on the bandwagon quickly enough to dismiss virtually everyone who gets a penny off the state as vile, lazy, layabout scroungers.

You could almost hear an entire section of society rise up as one, wave its hands in despair and rage:?"See!?Told you so!?THIS IS WHAT THEY'RE ALL LIKE!!"

No they're not.

It's a TV show, there for entertainment purposes and the reality, of course, is far from it.

But since when did reality TV?ever really care about reality?