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Strap yourself in for The Briefcase: Australia's most exploitative reality show. 
Who's more deserving? A family devastated by a bushfire? Or a family whose mother lost both arms and both legs?
Classy, Channel Nine.
The Briefcase is based on a US series, axed after poor ratings and savage reviews. Time magazine called it "the worst" of its genre, but Nine says the local adaptation is "fundamentally different". 
I've seen both. The best I can say of the Aussie version, starting on   June 20, is that it's less bad. Yet still appalling.
Cloaking itself with the genuine decency of its participants, it peddles the myth of "deserving" and "undeserving" poor. Instead of scrutinising the economic roots of disadvantage, it suggests individual acts of kindness as a solution. As viewers, we're invited to arbitrate awful situations as we scratch ourselves on the couch. "What would you do?" the promo asks.
For instance: should a quadruple amputee get new prosthetic legs? You be the judge!
This is what happens when commercial TV tries to be moral.
Every week, two desperate families receive a briefcase containing $100,000. They were interviewed under the pretence of how they "make ends meet", so the money is a shock.
Inevitably, they weep. For Mandy McCracken, who had every limb amputated to survive a bacterial infection, this could buy an accessible bathroom in her own house. Or better prosthetic hands, to help physically care for her three girls. These are things her family can't afford on welfare. (Mandy's husband, Rod, had to quit work to be her full-time carer.)
Then: the kicker. 
The McCrackens can have all this money, some of it - or give the lot away.
Whatever they don't keep goes to another "deserving family". Over the next three days, they're fed titbits about their struggles, culminating in a tour of their home.
In this episode, that family is Jim and Jenny Carter, who have two daughters. The Carters lost their house - and most of their farm - to a bushfire. Their soaring debt has hit $180,000.
The Carters are also duped into believing they're the only ones with $100,000. Now they must decide whether to give any to the McCrackens.
Mandy could use the money from The Briefcase to buy a better set of prosthetic arms. Photo: Screenshot: The Briefcase, Channel Nine.
At the end, the families meet - and realise they've been tricked. By then, it's too late to alter how they've split the money. Under bright lights, they plonk wads of cash on the table, justifying why they donated some, all (or perhaps none) of their much-needed cash to each other.
And we sit at home, wondering: who will be "greedy"? Who will be "generous"?
Moment of truth: Jim and Jenny Carter, left, and Mandy and Rod McCracken realise they're both in the same position. Will they give each other cash - and how much? Photo: Screenshot: The Briefcase, Channel Nine.
Look. When it comes to The Real Housewives of Melbourne, MasterChef or My Kitchen Rules, judge away. Those contestants know what they signed up for.
On The Bachelor, you can practically hear the narrator sniggering when he mentions "true love". We're all just waiting for a meltdown, mid-rose ceremony. You know it, I know it, even the on-set fire warden knows it.
Commercial TV excels at trash. That's not a back-handed compliment. I love Real Housewives and The Bachelor, and I have no truck with those who get uppity about them. If you expect moral guidance from reality TV ... why?
But when a program such as The Briefcase styles itself as a moral force - exploiting vulnerable people, and promoting a toxic mix of neo-liberalism and mushy inspiration - that's another matter.
Briefcase participant Jenny Carter weeps during the final moments of the episode. Photo: Screenshot: The Briefcase, Channel Nine.
Poor people are not the playthings of a TV producer. A large sum of cash helps them, undoubtedly. But that's not a licence to make them jump through hoops for our amusement.
There's a heartbreaking scene in which Mandy contemplates keeping a measly $5000. No new limbs, no accessible shower. Just enough to treat her family to a holiday. 
She cops a frosty look from her husband, who wants to give all their money away. "At what cost", Rod asks, will she accept this treat?
Mandy is not some airhead, babbling on a cooking show about how she really needs this jackpot to continue her food journey. She almost died from her infection, and doctors made her say goodbye to her daughters. Now, she can't even brush their hair.
Commercial television has long milked such stories for their raw emotion. On Backyard Blitz, for instance, Jamie Durie and team would descend on an unsuspecting needy family. As the cameras rolled, some pretended to love the inevitable Balinese water feature, wondering how long they could politely wait before bricking it over. But that was as far as it went. Channel Nine got good ratings; the family got modest capital growth.
Nine has confirmed that everyone on The Briefcase walks away with some money. That doesn't negate the cruel manipulation they endured to get it.
If you really must, give those people a bag of cash and film them as they sob. Or put over-paid executives in a wretched moral dilemma. Just don't pitch desperate families into an unwitting contest, prodding us to decide who is more "deserving" through "what would you do?" promos.
It's insidious. Because every show like this fuels the notion that poor people must audition for assistance. Whoever performs the most compelling "personal narrative" wins.
According to The Briefcase press kit, contestants are in financial trouble "through no fault of their own".
I don't give a damn. Some poor people are nice; some are not. Niceness - or its double-speak cousin, "poor life choices" - should not determine who gets food, basic lodgings or essential medical care. In Australia, that's meant to be everyone.
One-off cash donations to telegenic families make for feel-good viewing. Yet The Briefcase bills itself as "Australia's next ground-breaking social experiment". With its despairing subjects over a barrel, it ponders: "Is it really better to give than to receive?"
Here are some better questions. 
Why can't a quadruple amputee get decent prosthetic limbs, or an accessible shower, through Medicare?
When a family lose their home, why is it nearly impossible to buy another? To what extent is negative gearing to blame?
And what are the economic - and, therefore, social - costs of corporate tax avoidance? 
These are not issues commercial media likes to probe. Rather, a vapid brand of "inspiration" is presented as an alternative. If we can all just be nicer to each other - like those inspiring McCracken and Carter families - the world would be a better place. 
This is bunkum.
Stable employment, not tenuous contract jobs, make the world better. Affordable homes make the world better. When you're poor, and your teeth are rotting in your head, potential employers tend to dismiss you upon sight. Properly subsidised dental care would go a long way to ... ugh, boring. Let's just give you This One Amazing Role Model Who Will Change Your Life. The rest is up to you, chump.
It's no surprise The Briefcase's subjects have praised the show. When you're poor and desperate, money does help. A lot. 
But to sustain this series, we need the tantalising possibility of a "greedy" contestant. Secretly, we want our indignation stoked. 
We're being distracted by the sideshow, again. Whether or not a mum who went broke during chemotherapy keeps a stack of cash is not our business. Economic policy, on the other hand, is our business. 
But where are the ratings points in that? 
Twitter: @Michael_Lallo
Email: mlallo@fairfaxmedia.com.au