It's been said that the correct relationship between a journalist and a politician is that of a dog to a lamp post.

Surely, that's the only healthy relationship but it was lacking in this documentary, Alex Salmond: A Rebel's Journey (BBC1). Instead we had fawning and sentimentality.

Brian Taylor set the tone by speaking of when he 'first encountered' Alex Salmond. He didn't 'meet' Salmond, you understand: he 'encountered' him. They both sat in their old university and chatted like cosy old chums. This troubled me. Why be so fond and familiar? He's a politician.

And when we saw Salmond at the SNP conference waiting to give his farewell speech, he was filmed backstage like some kind of portly rock star, with his 'people' holding doors open and handing him mineral water. Then he swept onstage to ecstatic applause. Why the adoration? He's a politician.

Even Nicola Sturgeon seemed caught up in the schmaltzy mood, saying the first time she heard of Salmond it was chatter about him possessing 'the loveliest brown eyes.'

Looking on Twitter during the programme reinforced this nauseating sense of hero worship. There were comments about how Salmond used to look 'cute' and 'hot', and that he had 'fans' and was 'a legend'. Maybe it's the inevitable post-indyref comradeship but a politican getting the rock star treatment unsettles me. It recalls 1997 with Blair when people were dazzled by his glamour, teeth and ditching of Clause IV. Have we learned nothing? We need to ignore a politican's charm, style. Our natural reaction to elected officials should be caution and healthy cynicism. 

Amidst the documentary's Salmond-fawning were some little knots. I was glad to see David Torrance feature, despite the Frank Spencer garb, knowing he wouldn't be caught simpering about 'lovely brown eyes', but he didn't say anything particularly spiky except to note Salmond might seem opportunistic, 'but that's it really.'

In fact the only person who said something decidedly negative was Johann Lamont, who said 'we didn't learn anything at First Minister's Questions.' Well, she's hardly a person held in high esteem in Scottish politics at the moment, or at any moment, so having her represent the opposing camp just made them seem ridiculous.

There were endless clips of Salmond being folksy, singing with nice old dears, playing on the floor of a creche with cute toddlers or having a round of golf. Mischevious plinky piano music began as they talked of how the Salmond and Sturgeon partnership arose, with the camera bouncing between the two of them as they chuckled and reminisced.

I can't join in this love-in. I can't fawn over a politician, no matter how remarkable he might be. It's simply alien. I had a feverish involvement in politics once before, out delivering leaflets in the rain and working on the party's tombola stall, but I was 15 and 16 at the time. I look on it now as something I grew out of, just as I grew out of teenage crushes on film stars. Yet, during and after the indyref I saw grown adults whooping and weeping about their love for 'Alec' or 'Nicola', the legends, the heroes! This appalls me. That passion should be directed at the cause, not the personalities.

Otherwise, what happens to the Yes movement if someone without the requisite 'star quality' takes over? Does the energy fade? Do we put our T-shirts and balloons down and go home to tweet about what a rubbish gig it was? That's the risk if this daft and unnatural hero worship continues.