What do I hate most about Dragons’ Den (BBC Two, Sundays, 9pm)? That presenter Evan Davis constantly describes what just happened.
An inventor pitches an idea and Deborah Meaden says: “I hate it.” Davies then says: “Deborah Meaden says she hates it.” We know this already.
The voiceover is irritating but if you repeat literally everything that’s just been said or done, it turns 30 minutes of empty programming into a full hour. And with Dragons’ Den now in its 10,000th series, it’s no surprise to see that it’s running out of genuinely novel entrepreneurs for the famous dragons to invest in. It’s a wonder that no one tries to sell them a 15 per cent share in their lottery syndicate.
Why not? Modern capitalism has become a gamble. I’d love to pitch feudalism to the dragons: “You invest £80,000 in my lower field and you can marry my daughter when she turns 18.” Or communism: “Give me £100,000 and I’ll make sure that each of you gets an equal share of sweet nothing in return.” Alternatively, I could come dressed as Marlon Brando in The Godfather and make the dragons an offer they can’t refuse: “Give me the money and you live.”
Maybe I just don’t understand business, or maybe I just don’t care about it – a little of both – but I’ve never found the dragons themselves nearly as grand or competitive as the show suggests. Were I one of the investors, I’d do things like offering people five quid in return for a 100 per cent share of the business. And I’d also quietly pocket some of those absurd piles of cash the dragons keep next to themselves on the desk – an odd affectation that suggests they can’t be that brainy at business because they haven’t heard of a bank.
But if I was invited to be the lovely Evan Davis for the day, that’s when I’d have the most fun. I’d describe everything I’d just done. “Evan takes the bus to work. Evan has sausages for lunch. Evan has a nice cup of cocoa before bed. Evan dreams of slaying dragons.”
