We’ve been spoilt. The delights of the modern media have ruined us. Our predecessors would have little or no idea what a polar bear was, let alone be presented with the vision of one giving birth to unbelievably sweet baby polar bears. But now, we merely have to activate the shimmering screen in our lounge rooms, settle back with a mug of Horlicks and the majesty of the Arctic giant reproducing is displayed in HD colour. But do we gasp in awe? Do we shed a silent tear at the sheer beauty of the wondrous event? Do we heck.  Instead, we rush to the Radio Times website and type away like a secretary on speed, denouncing the whole charade because we suspect the scene was filmed at Bristol Zoo and not the Tundra.

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