The unpleasant taste of Hell's Kitchen

I love to cook and enjoy reality shows, so you know something's amiss when I take a phone call in the middle of Hell's Kitchen. Years ago I found Gordon Ramsay entertaining as the host of Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares, which took Mr. Crankypants on jaunts to make over stodgy old pubs in the picturesque English countryside. But as the reigning tyrant of Hell's Kitchen, he just seems like, well, an asshole. Maybe some people find the Brit-as-painful-truth-teller bit entertaining (hello, American Idol fans), but I just can't take it. He's not funny; he's pathologically abusive. Are HK contestants really learning to manage a kitchen and think creatively, or are they slowly becoming consensual victims of Stockholm Syndrome?
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Top Chef* wannabes, by contrast, at least are fortunate to answer to less malevolent forces like host Tom Colicchio. Plus, they typically aren't punished for failing to cook for masochists (by the way, who are the people going to HK to eat, anyway? Are they cast by the producers? Are they just LA folks desperate for screen time? Do they think they're actually going to get a meal in a timely fashion? The mind boggles). For both shows, though, the choices contestants make are hard to understand. People: if you are going to the trouble and potential humiliation of being on a reality show, do your homework. If you were signing up for Survivor, you'd learn how to build a fire with no flint or matches, right? So if you're going to be cooking on deadline, by God, time yourself in advance before unpacking your knives. Give yourself a blind taste test. Practice preparing a delicious meal under unusual circumstances. If you're going to willingly subject yourself to Gordon Ramsay's abuse, at least practice cooking meat to the appropriate temperature before putting on your white jacket. Please.