THERE are some myths that don’t need to be exploded, simply because it’s hard to believe that very many people in today’s society still think they are true. One of these was used recently by the commissioner of the new Channel 4 series, Born Famous, to explain the show. “There is a myth that talent will out whatever the circumstances,” said Emily Jones. “Using extraordinary access so some of our most successful celebrities, Born Famous is a novel way to explore the degree to which we’re all in denial about how hard it is to be young today.”

The controversial series takes four young people, the children of rich celebrities, to live in the less-than-posh areas from which their parents came. Among them are Michelle Mone’s daughter, aspiring model Bethany, who will spend a week roaming Glasgow’s Bridgeton, and Jack Ramsay, son of Gordon, who hangs out in Bretch Hill, Oxfordshire.

Now, I know it’s possible that some young people might still believe the talent will out myth – but my guess is that they are few. We all know that today’s Britain is one in which the rich are getting richer and the poor poorer. The pay of CEOs, a report revealed last week, was rising at five times that of average workers. Our media may be full of talent shows, but the people who dominate the arts are mostly privately educated. Talent, it’s clear, only occasionally outs. That’s why it is such a compelling story when it does.

It’s also pretty clear from what we know about this show that it isn’t a serious exploration of the real problems around social mobility. Rather, it’s there to lure viewers in by combining a bit of celebrity glitz with two reliable staples of reality television – wealth porn and poverty porn. The popularity of both is a symptom of our widening inequality and the politics of these times. Both exploit our feelings around the wealth gap, while not helping us evolve any kind of response to the world we find ourselves in.

Born Famous has already caused controversy. SNP MP Alison Thewliss described it as an “utterly despicable exploitation of a kind, close-knit community”. Poverty Safari author Darren McGarvey tweeted: “If they want to ‘confront their feeling of privilege’, I’d be happy to have a chat with them.” But it’s not just the poverty tourism in the show that bothers me – it’s the way it seems to belong to a reality television genre which directs our energies into ogling over the lives of the rich, while also making us hate and laugh at them. We love to hate these rich personalities – and meanwhile the rich love to make money out of that.

Born Famous, while masquerading as a show in which we will learn about inequality, is bound to be just yet another series which does nothing more than give us a catharsis, while perpetuating the problem. No doubt Michelle Mone’s daughter will find her appearance helps her in her ambitions to become a model. Jack Ramsay, who probably is pining after the kind of television career his sister Matilda has, perhaps will get his own break.

Of course none of this is the fault of these sleb kids. They were born into that. Meanwhile, as we spit and fume over these gilded young people, we still miss the point. It’s not them. It’s the system, in which the gap only keeps growing between the haves and the have-nots. Born Famous may be a show designed to get across that point – but it still can't help being part of the problem.

CAN. YOU. PREDICT. THE. FUTURE?

A FUTURE scene. Two friends sitting in a living room discuss whether, in the past, people used to speak with a vast variety of different accents. “Alexa,” one of them says, enunciating each syllable. “When. Did. People. Stop. Speaking. With. Different. Accents?”

There is a short pause, then Alexa replies. “After, the introduction of digital assistants people with strong regional accents found they were not able to make themselves understood and resorted to adopting an exaggerated received pronunciation in order to communicate with this technology. Soon, they were speaking this way to everyone as if they were two-year-olds. That is why we speak the way we do now.”

“Naw. Way.” That’s what you’re probably saying. Scottish accents are as likely to disappear as those two Scots in that classic 2011 Burnistoun voice-activated lift sketch were likely to get out of their elevator by attempting an American accent. That said, research by Life Science Centre in Newcastle is finding the threat is real. It claims that four fifths of speakers with regional accents say they deliberately adjust the way they speak to ease understanding by voice recognition systems. Amazon’s response was that Alexa is getting smarter every day. Some day, in other words, she will be able to understand accents. But what about now?

Digital assistant miscommunication stories proliferate. A friend, who speaks with a strong Scots accent, says that he has fallen out with his partner because he has mastery over their digital assistant because of his London accent. There is, therefore, one good reason, never to get a digital assistant. So. That. You. Never. End. Up. Speaking. Like. You. Are. Talking. To. One.