Do not disturb

I guess it's a natural progression. Once you've taken people to task by scrutinizing every aspect of their home (inside and out), their diet, their clothing and their personal hygiene, the only place left to go is into the boudoir.

But surely if you're having problems in that particular department, the last thing you'd want would be to have some self-proclaimed "sexpert" watching your every move by videocamera and probing you intimately (if you'll forgive the choice of expression)?

More honest than 'Big Brother' maybe, but this is still voyeurism masquerading as earnest self-help docudrama.

Update: Oh dear. Once again I find myself venturing perilously close to Daily Mail territory. Since posting the above, I discovered to my horror that today's edition of the aforementioned rag contains a full page article entitled "Save us from the sex inspectors!".

However, unlike the Mail, my objections to the programme have nothing to do with the sanctity of sexual relations or any such drivel - though I realise the hastily chosen title of the post might suggest otherwise. That sort of insistence on prurience and wholesomeness I can't stand.

Nope, shagging is great. The depiction of shagging on TV is great. But the depiction of shagging on TV dishonestly dressed up in the ill-fitting clothes of therapeutic and informative documentary is not.