You know, I kind of feel sorry for celebrities these days.

Twenty, ten, even five years ago, a person could just be a pop star, or actor, or newsreader, and be bloody good at it (or sort of passable, in the case of eighties pop; I’m talking about you Mr Le Bon) and that was that.

Back then, it was actually quite weird for a singer to try to break into film (Tina Turner in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome? Grace Jones in View To A Kill or Vamp?) unless the film was actually made by or about a singer/band, or had “vehicle” written all over it - Quadrophenia, Hard Day’s Night, Spice World.

But nowadays, there’s an interesting paradox. At a time when fame is easy to come by, for anyone willing to audition for a band/get locked in a house/learn to drive/confess to having a dirty home/get a boob job on telly, celebrities (those who sing, act, present, etc) have to work that much harder for their slice of the celebrity pie.

Little irritating talking heads kids in cute TV documentaries announce “I want to be famous” - not “I want to be a singer” or whatever. Fame is the goal, not success in a particular field - or at least, success is judged in terms of fame. Exposure versus talent.

What’s the difference between fame and celebrity?

Fame is winning a televised talent show with a song, and then releasing a couple of singles and an album or two.

Celebrity is releasing the singles, albums and then being filmed jumping out of a plane/going to a colonic irrigation centre/being stranded in a rainforest/running a marathon/appearing in a film/presenting a documentary because you are a singer.

Singing just isn’t enough, now. We want our celebrities multi-tasking, dammit.

This explains the rash of celebrity-reality-challenge programmes which revolve entirely around pushing celebrities of various hues out of moving trucks, training them to walk on glowing coals, watching them try to build a loft extension, forcing them to live on a council estate in Leicester for a month, teaching them to sail and then bundling them off on a round the world jaunt with a bunch of other equally hapless and ill-equipped celebs. The last one to drown wins a token prize and a chance to reinvigorate their flagging career, but in the eventuality that the mast breaks in the Southern Ocean and they all go under, that’s fine, too. Celebrity suffering makes for good telly. Hypothermia is a plus.

Hang on a minute.

He’s not a sailor; He’s a newsreader.
She’s not a chef; she’s a member of a girl band.
He’s not a pole-vaulter. He’s a top London chef.
She’s not a polar explorer; she’s a soap actress.

Why make them do anything other than what they are good at?
Answer: because it makes good telly.

Celebrities just don’t get the easy ride they once had. You can’t just get good at something, and do it anymore. Must extend the repetoire. You’ve heard of M(odel)T(urned)A(ctress) - a very eighties concept - well this is M(odel)T(urned)A(ctres)/S(kydiver)/A(uthor)/P(oledancer)/H(oliday Rep)/R(atcatcher)/I(cecream Vendor)/I(nmate).

See, television is now so full of programmes featuring ordinary people - cooking; learning to drive; cleaning; moving; at work; at home; at the airport; on holiday; on the operating table; on the motorway; on drugs; on the run; in love; in care; insane - that celebrities now need to do something more to distinguish themselves. It’s not about exposure and talent any more. It’s about flexibility.

You’re only a singer? Not good enough. What else can you do? Write children’s books (thank you, Madge)? Judo (cheers, Mel C)? Get leading roles in comedy spy franchise sequels (that’s you, Ms Knowles)? Have a tube shoved up your bum in Thailand (Kim Wilde)?

And as for you - call yourself an actress? You should be locked in a house (Claire Sweeney) or stranded on a desert island (Joanna Lumley).

And as for comedians: don’t make me laugh. You’ve got to do more than stand up and make people giggle, you know. We want to see you acting (Connolly), appearing on Big Brother (Jack Dee), or running the 1500m hurdles (Bobby Davro, come on down).

There’s another breed, too - the “crossover celeb” - like Brian-From-Big-Brother who started out as a nobody, won a pot of cash on a popularity contest full of other ordinary people, became famous, became a presenter and is now appearing on a reality TV show in which he is challenged to learn a talent, just like ordinary people.

Is it just me who thinks that those things might somehow be in the wrong order? Shouldn’t it be nobody/talent/presenter/fame/pot o’ cash? Isn’t that how it used to work?

Then there’s Rik-Waller-from-Pop-Idol (he’s had his name legally changed) who appeared on Celebrity Fat Club not so long ago. There’s a man who is actually famous for not a right lot (apart from girth and appearing on - and not winning - a talent show), but who is now making the shift, like the rest, appearing on other things because of fame, not talent. When was the last time you heard him sing, versus blubbing on the scales, advertising a new clothing range, and so on? He’s meant to be a singer. Hello?

That’s how you know when you’ve arrived as a singer: when someone asks you to appear on their innovative new reality TV concept show doing something else entirely.

Which brings me to another tangential thought. With so many ordinary people on telly doing slightly interesting things, and celebrities doing extraordinary things beyond, it’s only a matter of time before we get celebrities doing ordinary things for your amusement and delectation - you know, just bimbling about home, picking the kids up from school, ironing shirts, that sort of thing.

Oh no, wait - we already have.