The almost self-inflicted death of Australia’s performing naturalist Steve Irwin has caused a huge ripple of grief around the world.

In scenes reminiscent of the passing of Princess Diana, people who never met him are congregating besides walls of flowers, their faces contorted with anguish. John Howard, the Prime Minister, has even offered a state funeral. Thankfully, Irwin’s father has declined “because he was just an ordinary bloke”.

But what is it about celebrity status that has such a disproportionate effect on people?

Steve Irwin was an engaging — and knowledgable — naturalist. But he was also a clown. Latching onto the myth of Crocodile Dundee, without which he would hardly have made an impact, Steve Irwin build up a following as a madcap daredevil prepared to take on, and challenge, the worst that nature could throw at him.

On one occasion he even dangled his baby son under his arm while feeding the crocs. Couldn’t he see that his life was his to sacrifice, but his son’s was not? You’d expect such behaviour from the demented Michael Jackson, but not from one of Australia’s “finest sons”.

In the modern world, people are projecting themselves onto insignificant TV “celebrities” and identifying with them to an extent that puts a question mark over their sanity. Television is an exhibitionist medium. Through its influence, exhibitionism has entered the human psyche as a desirable quality. The sickening sentimentality aroused by events like this is a sure sign of cultural decline.

I’ve always been an admirer of John Howard, who seems to me to have a raft of true Aussie qualities. What on earth is he doing offering a state funeral to a goonish TV presenter who took his own life as surely as any Jihadist suicide bomber?