By Darren Waters BBC News Online entertainment staff

BBC News Online investigates the long-staying appeal of ITV's I'm A Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here!

The idea of 10 minor celebrities coralled in a jungle, forced to endure humiliating challenges for the titillation of a TV audience and the benefit of charity - it was probably one of the most eventful ever commissioning meetings at ITV.

Three years ago, when reality TV was at its navel-gazing peak and Davina McCall was still a relatively fresh face on our screens, I'm A Celebrity seemed like the most logical extension of an obsession with reality TV and so-called "car crash" viewing.

Win or lose Kerry McFadden will receive a career boost

But who would have thought that three years on the UK's obsession with celebrity-led reality series would continue to have such a hold on the nation's viewing habits and newspaper-reading passions?

Before reality TV there was docu-soaps, a programming genre that made shooting stars of a handful, but quickly became as yellowed as old newspapers.

The same thing was supposed to happen to reality TV.

But Big Brother remains one of TV's strongest brands and I'm A Celebrity has been the main topic of conversations in households whether they read the Sun or the Daily Telegraph.

More than 12 million people were expected to watch Monday night's final in which Kerry McFadden was crowned queen of the jungle.

It is an unfair comparison but about four million people tuned into the final of Big Brother of the less mainstream Channel 4.

Barker's adverts have been derided by some

Some commentators have hailed I'm a Celebrity's popularity as the return of arch-snobbery.

It is watched by the educated because they can look down their noses at the antics of the "celebrities" and by the uneducated because of an enduring obsession with celebrity, the argument runs.

Social demographics aside, at its heart the programme is gripping because it is about the relationships of strangers thrown together in unusual circumstances.

Such a mix can produce beguiling viewing.

Lord Brocket and Neil "Razor" Ruddock are not usually to be found in each other's company, while Jordan and Peter Andre's flirty affair was a gripping insight into the lives and loves of the plastic popster and the plastic enhanced.

It was interesting to note that while Britain positively revelled in the antics of a woman made famous by her breasts, the United States writhed in moral agony over the antics of a woman made infamous by one breast (Janet Jackson's unexpected expose at the SuperBowl).

There is also a perverse pleasure in watching the former, the ex and the fallen scramble on hands and knees in the mud for our entertainment.

Such cruelty has been central to comedy performances since time immemorial.

But is it the celebrities who have the last laugh?

All smiles: Tufnell enjoys his coronation

Receiving a reported �20,000 for two weeks of minor debasement and discomfort sounds like a good return.

And for the winner and the final few remaining, an even bigger pay day awaits.

The previous two winners, Tony Blackburn and Phil Tufnell, have had a major boost to their profile and careers since triumphing in the Australian jungle.

Even the losers have walked away with riches.

Interior designer Linda Barker, who came second last year, has become the face of Currys TV adverts, selling fridges and microwaves with a now-trademark pair of scissors in her hand.

The adverts are not to everyone's taste - but Barker is probably just as used to laughing all the way to the bank as some may laugh at her.

Kerry McFadden and Peter Andre have pop careers which (in theory) could be relaunched, while Jennie Bond may find the road to commercial riches more accessible than it was in the immediate aftermath of a BBC career.