Guess Who's Coming to Dinner: Len or John?
By Graham Davies

You're having a smart dinner with some rich professional friends. Along comes an unshaven, scruffily dressed chap, who gets confused over which knife and fork to use and when. But he's self-deprecating about his appearance, he has a natural charm, he's intelligent, he's entertaining, he's generous to others, and he's funny. So what do you do? Throw him out because he doesn't know which way to pass the port? Certainly not (unless you're an unpleasant, arrogant snob who puts the conventions and protocols of dining ahead of the personal appeal of your guests).

Strictly Come Dancing is the party, Len is the snobbish host, John Sergeant is our surprising visitor and the other diners are the voting public. Len's spoiling the party by getting all worked up and acid about John's inability to hold his cutlery the right way, and the more Len gets worked up, the more of a fool he looks, and the more everyone wants their unconventional new friend to stay.

We all love the underdog; we warm to people who're nice. And we hate stuffy, arrogant, pompous, humourless, narrow-minded individuals who expect everyone else to fall into line with their elevated expert opinion.

But Len's probably well aware of that: big-brother-X-apprentice-idol-factor-reality telly needs goodies and baddies if it's to raise any interest whatsoever, so maybe canny Len's just looking out for a long contract for himself and the approval of his paymasters, Simon Cowell style. Which leaves John as the fall guy and the paying public as the willing dupes.

There is a useful lesson from all this: whenever you are presenting yourself, if you take yourself too seriously for the circumstances, you will end up looking ridiculous. No-one will listen to you, like you…or be persuaded by you. On the other hand, a sense of self-deprecation and self-parody is actually very powerful. That’s the reality of it.