IF I SUDDENLY found myself in the middle of an Equatorial rainforest, miles from the nearest settlement, I should know enough to survive.

Likewise, were I one day to wake up in the harsh landscapes of the Arctic tundra, I should be able to eke out some sort of existence, albeit basic.

I watch so many survival programmes on TV that I really should know how to trap, kill and cook any creature that takes my fancy. I should be able to make fire and throw up a shelter, keep warm and dry, and generally exist without an hourly excursion to Tesco.

TV seems to be saturated with programmes teaching us survival skills, including those in which groups of people are abandoned in remote areas and left to fend for themselves. There’s the series featuring Bear Grylls, who routinely persuades celebrities to drink their own urine, and programmes such as Walking The Americas, in which a former soldier hikes thousands of miles across far off parts of the globe.

I don’t watch them all, but those I do tune into should surely teach me something. Yet the other night when I was locked out of my house for half an hour wearing light clothing, I was flummoxed as to what to do to keep warm, short of going to a neighbour’s house (which I did).

In terms of survival challenges it was pathetic - I had already had my tea and, with the outside tap, I did not have to go far to track down a water source.

Let’s face it, in a world where people panic when the supermarkets shut on Christmas Day, not many of us would be capable of fending for ourselves if we really were put to the test.

Left without food, I could certainly forage for berries be it the right time of year, but they wouldn’t sustain you for long. I would not have a clue what to do in winter.

So have I actually picked anything up from these endless hours of watching survival TV?

I know that in the jungle if you follow a stream you will come to a river, which should lead to a community. But while that is sensible in theory, it is no use if the river happens to be the fast-flowing Amazon or Zambezi, infested with crocs, caimans, piranhas, or whatever happens to hang out there.

I know that a shelter is vital and, based on what I have seen, could probably rig something up. And I learned from Ray Mears - who does offer good tips - that soap-like lather can be made from horse chestnut leaves.

But considering all the hours I have spent watching, I haven’t learned much. The only way any of us would really learn about survival is if we genuinely needed to.

I recently read a book about a climber who cut off his arm to survive after a boulder fell and trapped him. Could I do that? I have to psyche myself up to get a splinter out, so probably not.

Even the hardiest among us struggle when the trappings of everyday life are removed. Celebrity Robson Green is no wimp, but he struggled when left on a deserted island in the Philipines, despite having expert medical attention at his disposal, alongside survival items such as a mirror, a boat, a saucepan, a snorkel and water purification tablets.

So I am not applying for the forthcoming reality show Game2. The Russian programme sees 30 contestants stranded in the -40F (-40C) Siberian wilderness for nine months with the surviving winner receiving a $1.6m prize. It will stream 24 hours a day online. ‘Each contestant gives consent that they could be maimed, even killed,’ reads an advert. Everything is allowed.’ Sixty people have already applied. I definitely won’t be the 61st.