Atheism is the new cool thing, according to that hip old cat, Rowan Williams. The archbish knows only too well that it's the humanist philosophers and comedians who have the ear of the crowd these days, so if he's right, what could be cooler than an atheist version of The X Factor, where the godless audition to be part of the first ever humanist TV commercial?

Actually that wasn't the reason the Humanist Society of Scotland came up with The H Factor, which last week made the rounds of the cities of Scotland. The real reason is much more prosaic: it was the realisation that in the world outside Lambeth Palace and the hallowed pages of the Guardian, nobody has a clue what humanists think about anything.

I recently spent five minutes on a radio call-in show, fruitlessly trying to persuade a Muslim that humanism is not a religion. Then there are the people who think that humanism equals naturism, and expect us to conduct our ceremonies "sky clad". We don't. And I've lost count of the times I've come out of a crematorium after celebrating a funeral to overhear someone say: "I don't know why they call them humorous funerals. The guy wisnae that funny."

We've all heard far, far, far too much about what humanists don't believe. It's time to say what we do believe in and that's what The H Factor is about. Not all humanists are intellectuals; I'm certainly not. Unlike AC Grayling, I don't read Aristotle in the bath, and I conduct more ceremonies for members of the battering classes than the chattering ones. They're the ones The H Factor wants to reach – the "secret humanists" who are just trying to lead a good and worthwhile life guided by their head and their heart. And what better way could there be to do that than plagiarise their favourite TV programme?

Shamelessly copying the format, The H Factor had a website where anyone can sign up to audition. Not only could contestants choose between five different locations to book their 15 minutes of fame, but they could also choose the size and colour of their free "I've got The H Factor" T-shirt (as long as it's black). Better still, they did not have to be able to sing dance or act – perhaps it really is like The X Factor after all. Instead, they had to think of an answer to any one of seven different questions, some more serious than others.

Managing all this without the advertising revenues of ITV would have been impossible only a few years ago, but the wonders of the web bring it within reach of even tiny charities such as ours. There's still the need to read every entry in order to decide whether someone's comment really is worth filming, but the mechanics of moving a small film crew from town to town, and auditioning 120 hopeful people every day haven't changed much since the days of Opportunity Knocks.

What's striking about most of the entries so far is that they're not from bald, bearded, grumpy old men, but from fresh-faced, optimistic, bright young people, students mostly, but even some schoolchildren. My favourite so far comes from Adam, who is 12 and studies at a private school in Scotland, where he says: "I strongly disagree and think that all religions should be taught, as should morals and philosophy." Way to go Adam!

It's all going to be a bit of a laugh, but the campaign does have a serious point to make. Most people in Britain may be secular in their outlook, but that doesn't mean they've lost their moral compass, as Pope Benedict claims. We're just thinking for ourselves a bit more than we used to. We don't believe that David Cameron is right to suggest that Britain is a "broken society" either. In fact, we're a lot more concerned about fairness, equality, tolerance and compassion than he is.

• This article was amended on 6 October 2011 to remove information that may have identified the 12 year-old. A sentence from the quote was also removed that implied the child's current school taught that "monotheism is correct and should stay that way, backed up by numerous threats of going to hell or worse".