Watch: Jim Crace, Catherine Hakim and Hannah Dawson debate beauty, intellect and power

We openly discriminate in favour of intelligence while playing down the role of physical beauty in our lives. Is this a mistake? Are we cheating ourselves?

We openly discriminate in favour of intelligence – at school and at work – while denying or trying to limit the role of physical beauty in the choices we make. Could this be a mistake? Should we accept the many different qualities possessed by individuals and prize them equally, and if we did so, would this undermine our society and lead us towards ruin?

Sociologist Catherine Hakim has written extensively on employment, labour markets and sex discrimination. Known for her theory of "Erotic Capital", she argues that sexual attractiveness is measurable as social and economic asset, and that beauty can be used as a tool for the empowerment of women. Hakim identifies the favouring of the intellect as a symptom of Western civilization’s traditional preoccupation with anti-sensuality: a puritanical mentality that we should have outgrown.

The novelist Jim Crace - shortlisted for the 2013 Booker Prize - believes that giving the physical preference over the intellectual is unjust. At the core of his contention is the role that luck plays against hard work and determination. He argues that people should be judged by what they have control over, and that we should strive to separate character and characteristics.

But is there scope for considering beauty as part of one's personality? Beauty runs deeper than the surface, according to Hannah Dawson, prominent university intellectual and historian of ideas. Like Catherine Hakim, Dawson recognises the gender dimension is integral to this discussion. She asserts that women's appearances are subject to considerably more scrutiny than men's, and accepts the role of beauty and attractiveness in the workplace. However, she wants to see an end to this discrimination and urges us to value action over appearance.

How would a shift in the value we attribute to intelligence and beauty change our world? Philosopher Julian Baggini chairs this debate from IAI TV to ask that very question.

Patrick Driver

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How did Don’t Tell the Bride lose its spark?

Falling out of the love with reality TV’s wedding planning hit.

Steph, 23, from Nottinghamshire, is standing in a drizzly field wearing a wedding dress. Her betrothed, Billy, is running around in a tweed flat cap trying to make some pigs walk in “a continuous parade”. A man from Guinness World Records is watching with a clipboard, shaking his head. Bridesmaids gaze sorrowfully into the middle distance, each in a damp pig onesie.

Thus ends the second wedding in E4’s new series of Don’t Tell the Bride – and the programme’s integrity with it.

When the classic programme, which follows grooms attempting to plan their wedding (punchline: human males doing some organising), began a decade ago on BBC Three, it had the raw spark of unpredictability. For eight years, the show did nothing fancy with the format, and stuck with pretty ordinary couples who had few eccentric aspirations for their wedding day.

This usually resulted in run-of-the-mill, mildly disappointing weddings where the worst thing that happened would be a reception at the nearest motorway pub, or an ill-fitting New Look low heel.

It sounds dull, but anyone who has religiously watched it knows that the more low-key weddings expose what is truly intriguing about this programme: the unconditional commitment – or doomed nature – of a relationship. As one of the show’s superfans told the Radio Times a couple of years ago:

“It’s perfect, and not in an ironic or post-ironic or snarky way. The format has the solemn weight of a ceremony . . . Don’t Tell the Bride is not about ruined weddings, it’s about hope. Every wedding is a demonstration of how our ambitions curve away from our abilities. It’s a show about striving to deserve love and how that’s rarely enough.”

It also meant that when there were bombshells, they were stand-out episodes. High drama like Series 4’s notorious Las Vegas wedding almost resulting in a no-show bride. Or heart-warming surprises like the geezer Luke in Series 3 playing Fifa and guzzling a tinny on his wedding morning, who incongruously pulls off a stonking wedding day (complete with special permission from the Catholic Church).

For its eight years on BBC Three, a few wildcard weddings were thrown into the mix of each series. Then the show had a brief affair with BBC One, a flirt with Sky, and is now on its tenth year, 13th series and in a brand new relationship – with the more outrageous E4.

During its journey from BBC Three, the show has been losing its way. Tedious relationship preamble has been used to beef up each episode. Some of the grooms are cruel rather than clueless, or seem more pathetic and vulnerable than naïve. And wackier weddings have become the norm.

The programme has now fully split from its understated roots. Since it kicked off at the end of July, every wedding has been a publicity stunt. The pig farm nuptials are sandwiched between a Costa del Sol-based parasail monstrosity and an Eighties Neighbours-themed ceremony, for example. All facilitated by producers clearly handing the groom and best men karaoke booth-style props (sombreros! Inflatable guitars! Wigs!) to soup up the living room planning process.

Such hamminess doesn’t give us the same fly-on-the-wall flavour of a relationship as the older episodes. But maybe this level of artifice is appropriate. As one groom revealed to enraged fans in The Sun this week, the ceremonies filmed are not actually legally binding. “It makes a bit of a mockery of the process that the bride and groom go through this huge ordeal for a ceremony which isn’t even legal,” he said. Perhaps we should’ve predicted it would all eventually end in divorce – from reality.

Don’t Tell the Bride is on E4 at 9pm

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.