The Antiques Roadshow, which in the UK has been running since 1979, is one of those shows that will catch you eventually.

The Antiques Roadshow, which in the UK has been running since 1979, is one of those shows that will catch you eventually. On the surface, it appears to be a bunch of grownups talking about dry history and boring objects, which quickly leads to twitchy children, anxious to escape in the other direction. And in addition, the airing of the show on a Sunday, the day before school begins again, means the orchestral soundtrack to the show becomes a harbinger of challenging times ahead.

However, there is a developmental stage in adulthood that appears when the value of the past becomes a stick with which to beat current day customs and sensibilities, and it is then that the show will ensnare you.

When you have reached an age where intellectual and emotional subtleties are more engaging than in-your-face theatrics, the Roadshow has everything. There are charismatic evaluators (each with their own unique history), and well trained in how to tell a good story. There are a range of antique bringers with an equal range of personality types and emotional connection to their objects. And then there are the objects themselves, where the only criteria for bringing it in is that it came into somebody’s possession, and was made by somebody, at some point, for some purpose.

The Antiques Roadshow operates within the infinity of history, and so will always be relevant, and will always have something to say.

The real cheap thrill for the audience, though, is in the climax of each evaluation, when a financial estimate of the object is offered. These can appear quite mundane, as we once again hear that the antique bringer has no interest in selling it and it will remain in the family. This is not a surprising response, because next to mortgages there are not many antiques that if sold would be more than a drop in the ocean.

However, there are exceptions. You can tell when a person is more interested in the object, its history, or its personal value because the mention of a price suddenly opens the possibility of losing it; knowing that somebody would take it away from you for a certain price. This is enough to see a momentary look of shock or horror on the face of somebody who has not so much had their object evaluated, but a piece of their soul.

There is also a political nature to stating that it will not be sold. If somebody genuinely did need the money, this would not be admitted on camera, in front of the public. Indeed, stating that it will not be sold is the best way to present the image that you do not need the money, thus preserving face in front of the nation.

The emotional value plus the sudden appearance of a price tag makes the Antiques Roadshow just as seedy and base as any of the soaps, and we must not forget that the Roadshow does check many of the boxes for reality TV. They just go about things with more subtlety, to an audience that would publicly eschew such titillation.

To such people, the orchestral soundtrack has evolved to become a harbinger of cheap thrills, wrapped up in the academic; a place shielded from the rest of the world because people think it’s boring. If they only knew.