WHAT’s the connection between England’s success against the Columbians (suggesting the path to the finals will be a gentle stroll across a flower-lined country causeway) and ITV2’s Love Island? We are. Or rather the Scots’ need to see others fail.

Half of our nation woke up yesterday feeling miserable because Engerland had “been a set of lucky . . . s” (insert word Boris Becker’s Wimbledon word) in beating the South Americans. This ungracious, unkind, generally beelin’ 50 per cent of the population (Mori Polls don’t confirm these stats but my Whattsap comments don’t lie) simply refused to accept England had been the better, less criminally active team who deserved to beat the team known not entirely affectionately as “Escobar’s Eleven.”

But where’s the connection with Love Island, the paradise created by ITV producers in order to seize the summer ratings I hear you wonder? It’s schadenfreude. It’s the ugly desire to see those who do us no real harm suffer.

This week in Love Island, the drama unfolded when Dani Dyer, whose dad happens to be the famous Eastender (who so neatly summed up David Cameron last week as being a “twit”, give or take a vowel), saw her sunshine smile wiped off her face by a bucket of freezing, dirty rainwater in the form of a bad news.

The Herald:

The show’s producers decided to up the watching ante by having her new love’s ex girlfriend parachuted onto Love Island, (figuratively) then led Ms Dyer to believe her beau was enjoying Biblical relations with the ex. (Unknown to the TV star’s gel, her hunk was being a perfect gent.)

As a result, Dani Dyer broke her heart on national television, and ratings soared. Now, the success of the show is predicated upon viewers looking on vicariously to see couples coupling, but a great many love to see the beautiful bodied come unstuck. And schadenfreude is a sport we Scots excel in. Gore Vidal’s maxim “It’s not enough that I succeed, others have to fail,” is in our DNA.

Yes, there is the argument that those who enter the likes of Love Island should know there is no such thing as a free holiday. Over the years the reality format has excelled in creating conflict; Sylvester Stallone’s mother entering the Big Brother house, Richard Blackwood’s Celebrity Detox demanding contestants reveal the contents of their colonic irrigation, which meant this literally was s*** TV. And we can go back to Channel 4’s The Word, to recall a segment; “I’d do anything for fame,” in which one week a teenager proved this point by snogging an 80 year-old toothless granny.

But those who arrive on Love Island don’t always see this coming. They’re part of the selfie generation whose purpose in life is to look great, get an advertising deal and meet another self-absorbed narcissist. That may not be up there with finding a cure for cancer, but that’s no reason for taking pleasure at watching someone’s mind unravel like a ball of wool attacked by a manic cat.

Why do we Scots find it so much easier to trash others’ success or fame? It’s because we’re not, (even though we like to think we are) a confident nation. We’re not big enough to applaud success. This is partly down to the fact Scotland has a long had a strong egalitarian notion, but this fosters the idea that no-one is special, that we should all be trapped on the lower level. Scotland’s Centre for Confidence and Wellbeing suggests that paradoxically, in a society where people do not set out equal in life, our instilled sense of egalitarianism actually reinforces class (and gender) inequality.

There’s another reason for us not being confident. Strong Labour and Calvanistic conditioning has told us we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. And it is conditioning. You aren’t born with alack of self-worth, as the song from South Pacific, You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught, underlines. “You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late. Before you are six or seven or eight. To hate all the people your relatives hate. You’ve got to be carefully taught.”

What’s clear is we have national low self-esteem issues. We have not become Europe’s worst drug abusers for no reason. But in being too quick to criticise success, or deride those who achieve fame, for whatever reason, we perpetuate this cycle of astonishingly heavy criticism, while reducing our own possibilities. In that sense, we need to be less Scottish.

But there’s some hope. As far as Love Island is concerned, Ofcom has received 2500 complaints about the treatment of Dani Dyer. It would be nice to think some of them came from Scotland. When England marched around Celtic Park before the Commonwealth Games of 2014 they got the biggest cheer of the night, apart from Scotland. And half of the Columbia match Whatsapps were supportive of England, which wouldn’t have been the case a decade ago.

So let’s analyse ourselves. If we don’t want England to win has it anything to do with the Act of Union, or years or perceived subjugation? Or more to do with the fact we can’t beat Slovakia to qualify? Come on, let’s get behind the Kane gang.