The new series of Very British Problems began this week but seems to have lost its purpose. The show began life as a very witty, observant Twitter account which would blurt out panicked and appalled little tweets about the difficulties of being a repressed British person who's trying frantically to avoid embarrassment in a world full of boors and idiots.

The humour lay in not knowing who was sending the tweets and so we could imagine it was an uptight Englishman in a suit and bowler hat, catching the 8.09 to Waterloo, perhaps resembling a stern-faced John Cleese. Or maybe it's a kindly old lady who makes jam for the Women's Institute and crochets bootees for the church jumble sale, and is quietly horrified at the manners of today's young people. We could imagine what we liked, or slot ourselves into the situations described. But transferring the concept from Twitter to TV has ruined that. Our imaginary and oh-so-typical Brit has been replaced by celebrities. James Corden, Catherine Tate and David Tennant now share their awkward moments and social embarrassments, and there is no longer room for us. We've become observers not awkward, agonised participants.

We all love Christmas but wouldn't like it every day - contrary to what the song says. The luxury of all that food, wine and excitement would soon wear off and leave us longing for an uneventful day at work or a quiet potter around the supermarket. We can only take so much wonder and joy - and that must be the reason why Charlie Brooker is relatively rare on TV.

If I was in charge, he'd be on TV constantly. BBC News 24 would be Brooker 24 and watching would be mandatory. But, as with too much turkey and Prosecco, maybe we'd soon start to groan and wilt: no more, please. I'm full! I can't take another joke. I'm woozy with these witty observations. Another gag will make me gag.

This harmless take on the Grumpy Old Men-style talking heads show enters a second series. The thesis of the series is this: comedians and celebrities celebrate the social awkwardness that is held to be representatively British. This opening episode focuses on school: unfathomably enduring nicknames, playground meanness and the difficulties of fitting in. Stand-up comic Romesh Ranganathan nails the latter with his account of attending a comprehensive school - but doing so with a public school accent.