There could be a quarter of a million paedophiles in the UK and 'evidence suggests they're all around us'.

The media certainly foster that impression. Every week, new reports emerge of horrific child abuse, whether it's from aging celebrities, a care home or an organised paedophile ring.

We know that most child sexual abuse happens within the family, but our attention remains fixed on men who lurk online, or in seedy kebab shops, or on the Yewtree lot. Our anger and vigilance seems to be directed at the wrong place, so how do we tackle paedophilia when we can't even acknowledge where it most often occurs?

It seems the British attitude to child abuse is shaped by tabloid scare stories. We're stricken with the idea of 'strangers' taking our children. This fear is fixed, as is our unforgiving stance towards sex offenders, says Dr Sarah Goode. Our society's approach is: 'You're a paedophile. You're a monster. We hate you. And that isn't keeping children safe,' she says. This programme suggested that this iron-clad attitude must soften if we are to tackle the massive problem of paedophilia.

So should we stop and try to consider that not all paedophiles are evil, and not all are rapists? The programme introduced the apparent oxymoron of 'virtuous paedophiles', being those who admit to a sexual attraction to children but say they have never acted upon their desires.

The narrator went to meet such a paedophile, a man named Eddie.

Eddie certainly looked like a sex offender, appearing shifty, dishevelled and inadequate. But stop right there! I'm guilty of the same tired, old attitude: seeing the paedophile as a simple stereotype. Yes, he'll be a sinister little man in an anorak. Or maybe he'll be a creepy old priest or a sleazy kebab shop owner. Yet statistics show he's more likely to be the victim's dad or uncle or cousin.

Eddie agreed to appear on camera and freely admitted to having a sexual attraction to children as young as four.

People can attack me if they like, he said, but 'all you're doing is keeping the status quo', which is a society where paedophiles are loathed instead of treated. He laments the fact we're all waiting for him to offend before we'll take action. Why not step in now and try to understand paedophilia before it manifests itself in sexual abuse, he asks? Why don't we help?

Perhaps it's because help is an act of benevolence and we just can't bring ourselves to be benevolent towards a paedophile. It would take superhuman kindness, plus a very thick skin, and today's climate of tabloid outrage just wouldn't allow it. Any politician who spoke up would find their career was over. Any doctor or therapist would surely receive appalling threats and abuse.

So who is brave enough to say resources should be diverted away from worthy schemes to help 'paedos'? Few would be brave enough, and fewer still would be heard over the storm of outrage from the Twitter lynch mobs and the trashy puppet master that is the Daily Mail. So the only person a paedophile can confide in is another paedophile. No rational, disinterested professional can step in and break their hideous circle because society won't allow it.

The programme bravely advocated helping paedophiles and spoke of schemes where volunteers monitor them, recognising that 'we have to talk to them, no matter how unpleasant it is.' There are also residential courses in Germany where people can be treated once they have acknowledged their desire. The authorities there don't need to see a raped child before they take action. They are trying to prevent that horror in the first place. I suppose we can't take the same bold steps until we acknowledge the uncomfortable truth that paedophiles are usually family members and - even more uncomfortable - that we need to listen to them.