FORGET the chat show, it's the chav show that's grabbing all the headlines these days - and not in a good way.

ITV1's The Jeremy Kyle Show - which attracts around a third of all mid-morning television viewers - has been described this week by a judge as a form of human bear-baiting' after guest David Staniforth found himself in court for head-butting a love rival on the show.

As the Daily Echo's resident telly critic, I have had the dubious (well, if I'm honest, guilty) pleasure of watching the JK show now and then and, believe me, it ain't pretty.

A chavalanche, one colleague called it.

So why do viewers love watching these chavs (in reality damaged, underprivileged, abused human beings) spreading their dirty washing out for all to see?

The most obvious reason is that this modern-day freak show is a means of reassuring ourselves that we are good people, we could never be as bad/poor/ugly/stupid/immoral/ill-pierced as them.

Purporting to be all about solving the everyday problems of ordinary people, the JK show holds a seemingly endless trail of no-hopers, sub-working class types and tearaway teens up for public scrutiny and humiliation, all in the name of entertainment.

Basically, a few sad saps, often barely literate, some possibly mentally ill, are wheeled on stage to discuss' their problems, which mainly tend to revolve around drug and/or alcohol addiction, infidelity or family rifts, with the snappily-suited host, Jeremy Kyle, possibly the most self-righteous, smarmy characters on telly now that Robert Kilroy-Silk has gone.

Kyle dishes out advice and criticism in equal doses as if he's some sort of expert. Well, he has had a brother who dabbled with the dark side once, as he constantly reminds the people he's shouting at.

"Trust me mate, I've been there" could almost be his catch-phrase - but this is a shame show, not a game show (despite appearances) and safe, well-to-do Jeremy has not been anywhere remotely near there.

Still, it doesn't stop him pontificating.

"I always say exactly what I think and not what people want to hear," he says. "It's very important to get to the truth and sort things out, then move on - we've only got one life, it's not a rehearsal."

Any more clichés you'd care to add?

Recent show titles include "Did you seduce my sister? Lie detector results" and "I don't believe I'm the father to both your children: DNA results".

On the occasions I've seen DNA result episodes, I've always imagined the baby in question sitting backstage, in a big frilly bonnet, fingers crossed hoping the oik in the Burberry baseball cap is NOT its daddy!

Along with his human bear-baiting comment, Alan Berg, the district judge in Manchester added: "It seems to me that the whole purpose of the show is to effect a morbid and depressing display of dysfunctional people who are in some kind of turmoil. It is for no more or no less than titillating members of the public who have nothing better to do with their mornings than sit and watch this show."

Couldn't have put it better myself, Al.

Violence can never be condoned, but it seems David Staniforth was provoked. He was in a highly emotional state when the show's producers brought him face-to-face with, not only his ex wife whom he'd been unsuccessfully trying to contact for some time, but with her lover who was once his trusted friend. He claims he was unable to resist lashing out in the spur of the moment.

It's pathetic, it's sad, and to some it's great telly.

But you have to remember that these are real people.

Like Nancy Campbell Panitz, who just hours after appearing on the daddy of all US chav shows, Jerry Springer, was beaten to death by the cheating husband she confronted.

Or Scott Amedure, who went on the Jenny Jones show (again US) to tell his best mate, Jonathan Schmitz that he had a secret crush on him. His best friend shot him dead three days later.

Been there, Jeremy?