I never thought I’d say this, but the latest crop of reality television shows make me miss the carefree, innocent days of “Fear Factor.”

It’s not like reality programming has ever been known for its scruples. From the half-naked pseudo-refugees on “Survivor” to the loveless wedding vows on “Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?,” unscripted television has always overflowed with money-mooching, intestine-eating egomaniacs desperately searching for their 15 minutes.

But everything, including television, has a line, and the networks have finally crossed it with a new onslaught of “makeover” reality shows, including MTV’s “I Want a Famous Face,” ABC’s “Extreme Makeover” and, worst of all, Fox’s “The Swan.”

I’ve never been a big reality television fan, and with the exception of a few “Real World” reruns and some false hope in the premise behind “Average Joe,” I have yet to watch a complete season of any of these shows. But there’s a difference between mindless TV watching and the deliberate attempt by these programs’ producers to lessen people’s self-worth.

Of course, if you go to the source and ask what these shows are about, you’ll get a happy, well-spun answer. On “The Swan” Web site, the show — which gives plastic surgery, rapid weight loss and psychological counseling to 17 pageant-bound contestants — describes itself as “a new series where fairy tale turns into reality.” Similarly, ABC refers to its series as “a real life fairy tale in which [the show’s contestants’] wishes come true, not just to change their looks, but their lives and destinies.”

If we trust what the networks are telling us, this warped, manufactured version of perfection simply must be the ideal situation for all young people — especially women, who seem to be the gender more targeted by these shows. By becoming beautiful on the outside, women are told that what’s on the inside really has no purpose or weight in life. The “fairy tale” has already come true.

For those of you who haven’t seen the shows, this isn’t minor cosmetic enhancement. This is fat being sucked from bodies, chins and noses being chiseled to a more socially acceptable size and breasts being augmented to unnatural proportions. These are women whose Botox-saturated skin looks more plastic than a Barbie doll, all packaged with ads for skin creams and Atkins diet-friendly Subway sandwiches. No wonder one segment of “The Swan” includes time with a psychologist — what woman wouldn’t need extensive counseling after having her face and body completely resculpted?

To be fair, MTV’s “I Want a Famous Face” isn’t exactly like its major-network counterparts. The show, which is billed as a documentary, doesn’t actively search for women to make over; instead, it chronicles the decisions of the individuals who choose to be morphed into their favorite celebrity. MTV has even devoted a special section to its Web site about the dangers of cosmetic surgery and its after effects. But it doesn’t change the fact that people are still volunteering to look like someone they’re not. The show may be different in concept, but perhaps it’s just the after-effect of years of superficial, advertising-driven programming.

At this point, I’d be happy to see a little maggot eating and fake romance when I flip through the channels. It may be terrible TV, but at least it’s not ruining anyone’s life.