Gay men, who had spent a lifetime dissembling, were found particularly useful for the SOE, and it was remembered (most probably by a man, of course: give that man a medal) that women could possess remarkable combinations of brains, bravery and pain thresholds, bless ’em. Ethnic minorities; the wounded/disabled; the SOE party was thrown open to all, like New Labour with cordite and switchblades.

This and more we saw in Secret Agent Selection, a wholly new and surprisingly successful exercise that came, naturally, in the guise of a “reality” show, in which 14 modern Joes and Janes were put through a fierce-enough recreation of the training plan for the SOE.

There are, already, the heroes and the villains – frenziedly posh Dan with his entitlement and his bum-fluff little ’tache; plucky, tiny Lizzie, scaling the 10ft wall with an upper-body strength denied to most of the males – and a few daftnesses but, in general, it was just such a relief to have 14 reasonably competent, cogent, more-or-less sane souls on a reality show. Psychologically bombproof, as the SOE would have demanded, and who weren’t likely to strop off in tears at the drop of a harsh word, or preen, or laze in the sun for three days picking grossly at their feet while looking to take niggling offence, and yes I’m looking at you The Island With Bear Grylls.