The Tribe Has Spoken: why we can't look away from reality TV
As someone who grew up in the late 00s and early 10s, reality TV was an inextricable part of my childhood. Like most kids, I was captivated by what “real” people were willing to go through to be on TV. Whether it was Parental Control, Shark Tank, American Ninja Warrior, Wife Swap, or Jackass, there was never a moment lacking some sort of outsized drama. As I got older I lost track of these shows and never ended up replacing them. I was too busy trying to fill my plate with shows that I deemed more “fulfilling” or “productive”. In a way, I felt guilty, thinking that if I let myself relax and indulge it would affect the progress I was making. That wasn’t the only place where I did this, I let myself block out a lot of things that were enjoyable in the name of “success”. Looking back now, it was all part of this phony stoic intellectualism that I was using to cope with my past and run from it. That may be too far down the rabbit hole, but I know others can relate. We all have those phases of life where we put up walls because we’re afraid of letting ourselves rest or take it easy. That austere path doesn’t lead anywhere but a less joyful life. We need to embrace some of the “dumb” things in life to get a break from how intense everything else is. So today, let’s talk about one of those “dumb” things, reality TV, and why none of us can look away from it.
Even after I abandoned the stoic path and started having fun again, I still hadn’t brought reality TV back into the fold except for rare occasions. There were no plans to change that until my girlfriend reintroduced me to the genre. At first, I feigned resistance and acted like I was above it. Slowly though, I got pulled into the vortex. Watching people interact in a fishbowl environment away from all the macro problems of the world is oddly comforting. Contestants have limited contact with the outside world and are temporarily removed from the constant churn of unprecedented events. For them, their issues begin and end with whatever the challenge of that day is. I wrote about Survivor earlier this year where I mentioned how some of these reality shows mimic a less distracted life. On Survivor, it’s just you communicating and thinking your way through the challenges of life, without any digital distractions or algorithms swaying you. Most shows don’t go this far and have some level of interference, but the core experience remains the same. There’s an isolated group of people, going through some shit together. By watching them go through it together, we get a break from all of the noise too. For the hour we tune in, we’re focused on the situations and emotions confronting the contestants, analyzing their moves and thinking about how we’d react if we were there.
One of the reasons I stopped watching reality shows was that I felt like there wasn’t a plot or anything to engage any real thought processes. To me, they were a small step above background noise. That was probably unfair because honestly most shows today don’t do much from a plot perspective. Also, it’s kind of ridiculous for me to act like binge-watching more prestigious shows does that much more for me from a development standpoint. What I and a lot of people get wrong is that these shows aren’t as dumb as they appear. Each show is one big social experiment where you can see how people react under varying conditions. Some shows are super off-putting at first, but even those can still get you hooked on the nuance of the experience. You notice all the differences in how people communicate and connect. Shows like Survivor are more obvious with this, where you can see someone’s strategy play out but even on dating shows you can see the different levels of emotional intelligence, attachment styles, and other ways of being played out. Those factors are why dating is the most popular reality sub-genre.
You can see yourself going on the more niche challenge shows but you know what it’s like to have a bad date. We’re all very familiar with the highs and lows of putting yourself out there and trying to find someone. For better or worse, seeing strangers go through those highs and lows triggers something in us. We want a front-row seat to the mess that is modern dating. We don’t just relate to the hardships, there’s something about other people’s relationships that turns us all into armchair therapists. We’ve all had conversations analyzing relationships outside our own, these shows just take that to another level. It’s like being at the bar and having the full backstory to every cringey conversation and flailing attempt at love. We also get to see what happens when people finally lose their cool or reveal their true intentions. I hate to admit this, but part of me loves it when conflict pops off or someone does something crazy. To me, that’s when people are the realest on these shows. It’s a lot harder to act like you love someone than to act like you hate them. I’d be lying if I said that I felt good about letting other people’s relationships become entertainment. Everything becoming content is one of the toxic parts of our culture that I write about most. On the other hand, though, the point of this piece is letting ourselves indulge in some guilty pleasures, and I’m not here to tell people they can’t enjoy something unless it’s perfect. With that being said, I do think reality shows say some interesting things about this current moment in time.
It’s not like the commodification of contestant’s lives is happening without their consent. They know what they’re signing up for like we all do. Everyone has a crafted public personality that’s almost like the carefully practiced intros to every reality season. We create these personas because we know we’re all under the constant watch of others. Wearing a mic 24 hours a day is much worse but our version of constant surveillance still matters. We know we’re being watched and that changes how we behave, much like the contestants on reality shows. We’re all acting in some way based on the situation at hand. Also like reality shows, this has changed some of our motivations in how we approach these situations. Relationships in this era may not be about finding someone but simply getting attention. That’s one part of these shows where you can’t wall off the outside. If someone has the chance to become an influencer, they’re going to take it. The other area where the outside world intrudes is the people behind the cameras. It’s no secret that there are some horror stories about how producers treat people or engineer situations to drive up ratings. In a way though, that’s happening to all of us with how social media creates this narrative around our lives. While this can take you out of the shows, I think it says something that these issues aren’t bigger barriers to using these shows as a distraction.
If you read this blog at all, you won’t be surprised to know that some of this is a bit conflicting with me. I still haven’t found a way to square how much I enjoy some of these shows with my feelings about fame culture and the attention economy. Unfortunately, that’s probably not going to happen, but again that’s the point here. We can’t always expect to be perfect. We need to take part in some less-than-perfect activities to be human. I also believe that the types of shows I’ve written about here are fundamentally different from those that are explicitly focused on celebrities. The difference is who the stars are. On the competition shows, they’re contestants, on the celebrity shows they’re subjects. The latter supports the Kardashianficiation of everything, where if you’re famous enough your whole life becomes a consumable product for us to live vicariously through. On the competition shows, that’s not the point, anyone can be a contestant. No one’s trying to emulate anyone from Love Island, they’re just invested in the thrill and ridiculousness of it. There are parasocial relationships there but I think it’s more a type of parasocial empathy. Even if we don’t like someone we still connect with them. A fame element exists with contestants too, but their rise to fame feels more real. Audiences related to them as they went through challenges or heartbreak, instead of just watching someone cry over losing a 75K ring. There’s something relatable in seeing people doing their best across these crazy challenges or trying to find a relationship. We can’t see ourselves on those shows centered on celebrities, but we can see ourselves on Survivor. I mean people have binders full of Survivor strategy, that’s how much they see themselves in these situations. You may not want to but I bet you could even see yourself on Love Island or Love is Blind. It’s not about obsession, it’s about connection.
Everything has a dark side nowadays, but I don’t want to have some dire philosophical warning like a lot of my pieces have. With how everything has been lately, I’ve enjoyed my break from the more serious side of things. Part of me wishes I didn’t like the mess quite so much, and we all should spend some time doing some personal growth, but we also deserve a break. Even in those breaks we’re learning something either about ourselves or other people. I think that’s what’s been most surprising. Something people label as “dumb” can have such an emotional impact, that impact may be negative at times, but it’s still an impact. Other times these shows are dumb, and we don’t learn anything, but that’s ok. We need to turn our brains off once in a while and enjoy some dumb shit. Life would be so boring if we only watched things that were “good” for us. What does good even mean? I tried doing that and it sucked. Feeling guilty about things like this means that we’re working through complex emotions and being human, just like the people on these shows. All they’re doing is trying to play to their strengths and rely on their sense of self to navigate the chaos that they’re thrown into. We need reminders like that of how wild the human experience is and all the emotions associated with it, whether that’s trying to solve mysteries, holding onto a rope for 2 hours, or falling in love in the most ratchet way possible. That’s us, that’s being human.