THESE days, if you are an avid follower of popular culture there will come a time when you are required to pick a team.

A few years back, it was Team Aniston or Team Jolie. These days it is Team Price or Team Andre. At this time of year, regardless of celebrities' marital issues, you are inevitably called upon to pick your Saturday night viewing team. Are you Team Strictly, or Team X-Factor? You can't be both. Oh yes you can, by flicking between the two, or make the most of your Sky+. But there is always one you prefer over the other. Or, in my case, you chose one because the other makes you so very angry.

I remember when these pop competitions first came about — in my day it was Pop Stars and Pop Idol. The idea was new and fresh and exciting.

The contestants were likeable and talented, such as the charming posh boy Will Young who won a nation of female hearts when he argued oh-so-politely with Simon Cowell, then subsequently broke them when he announced he was gay (the 'Will wall' in my university house stayed put though — perhaps we were hoping he would see our shrine to him, change his mind and marry one of us). Or the sweet and smiley Cheryl Tweedy who shocked us all when it was later reported that she had got into a brawl with a nightclub toilet attendant.

However, just like Big Brother, the pop factory reality TV shows have been slowly hijacked over the years and have now transformed from an experiment into something altogether more disturbing.

They have been hijacked by producers so desperate for ratings that they will humiliate anyone and everyone in the name of "good TV", and by contestants who will do anything, literally, to have their moment in the spotlight.

I am not quite sure who is to blame for this. Is it us, the Great British Public, for keeping these shows going with our phone votes and viewing figures? Or is it the music industry, for managing to give the impression that any old person off the street can get a recording contract? Perhaps it is both.

What makes me angry is that these young people (and some not so young) seem to think that winning the X-Factor is the only thing that will make life worth living, the only way they can make something of themselves. Take for example this year's contestant Stacey Soloman. She is a 20-year-old single mum who, in her first audition, said "I love being a single mum, I can do whatever I want..."

At this she lost my vote immediately. Forgive me if I am over-simplifying this a bit, but isn't parenthood (single or otherwise) about putting your child before yourself?

She later went on to say that winning the X-Factor would mean everything to her and her young son.

"I'd be able to get him into a good school and get him all the things he needs," she said.

I have absolutely no doubt at all that Stacey only wants the best for her son, but does she really think that leaving him with her mum while she jets off to live the dream is actually providing for him? A child's needs are simple — love and stability; a pop lifestyle provides none of those.

And it isn't just Stacey. Nearly all the hopefuls at this year's auditions said something about making a better life for themselves. Call me old-fashioned, but what happened to an education and a job?

If we keep up this pretence that the X-Factor is a ticket to a better lifestyle then we are only going to see more and more young people queuing up for the "chance of a lifetime" and ending up being bitterly disappointed. I find that desperately sad.