No-one in their right mind would accuse King Justin of having a Napoleon complex, but the Little General has surely excelled himself this time.

Conscious, perhaps of the fact that the 140th anniversary of anything is pretty much the definition of a non-event, the desperation of the Britain’s fourth-most-powerful supermarket CEO (after Paul Foley of Aldi) to get southern England’s third-ranked supermarket into the headlines has now extended to “reality” TV.

And what, I ask you, could be more real than taking four dork-grade shelf-stackers from the Chatham branch of JS and promoting them to the Holborn boardroom? Such things happen all the time, at least in politics. And at least the not-overly-bright-looking temporary directors do have some experience of real work on the shop floor, unlike pretty much any overpromoted MP. I don’t think redesignating a Balinese spa complex as a second home really counts as work, do you?

But it will be fascinating to see just to what extent L’Empereur Justin does extend real power beyond the C4 cameras. Let’s say the scary peroxide power-gran decides to award her entire Britain’s Got Talent sweepstake syndicate a massive pay rise. Or perhaps the wide-boy security guard abolishes the Think 21 policy for anyone called Dwane, Wayne or Shane. Will the diminutive dictator go through with it?

Comedy value demands he should, but I fear common sense prevailing. Begging the protection customarily afforded to Votre Majesté le Roi Justin, there is a difference between patronage and patronisation, and this latest wheeze falls comfortably on the wrong side. There’s a reason some people rise to the top, even at Sainsbury’s, just as there’s a reason why some people do not. If you really were putting the serfs in full command even for a day you know very well that you’d soon meet your Waterloo.

Roll on 150 years at JS. Rumour has it they’ll be putting the Sainsbury family back in charge.