The New Reality Television

A short commentary on the role of reality television in a society increasingly obsessed with triviality.

Over the past twenty years, the genre of reality television has grown from game shows like Survivor, Jeopardy, and American Idol to documentaries like The Jersey Shore, Dance Moms, or Cake Boss. The public watched this transition with a combination of derision and pity, speaking only of the later branch of shows with a detached sort of irony; and yet, despite the fact that nobody was watching them, these shows continued to grow in popularity.  Cake Boss, a documentary focused entirely on a man who bakes cakes, was so popular that it resulted in a spin-off series specifically about cupcakes, which in turn necessitated a series specifically about wedding cakes (although it was not completely clear whether this show was inspired by the aforementioned cake-related shows or the long series of wedding-related shows which had come before it.) This new branch of reality television ranges from the inane to exploitative to the slightly immoral; The Jersey Shore chronicles the lives of eight housemates as they party, have sex, and get into fights with each other (on the beach!), What Not to Wear documents unfashionable people as their friends, family, and coworkers force them to fix the way they dress, and Toddlers and Tiaras tells the stories of stage mothers who force their children (some who are not quite old enough to be called “toddlers”) to participate in beauty pageants.

But it’s not just an issue of bad television; to many people, these shows represent the decline of American culture, the degradation of family values, and, in some cases, the very manifestation of everything that is wrong with the modern world. And yet, the trend continues; nobody admits to watching the shows, and they paradoxically become more popular with each season. What is it that makes these shows successful? Obviously people are watching them, whether or not they admit that fact to others. These shows are successful, not because they are well-made or entertaining or even particularly enjoyable; instead, because they fill several basic human needs. First, they fulfill our curiosity, the same sort of morbid curiosity that causes people to visit freak shows at carnivals. Whether it’s a woman with six fingers or a guy who can’t stop hoarding goats in his house, people always tune in for the freak show. This leads into another fundamental human need; the need for validation. Many of the exploitative TV shows invoke a mixture of disdain and superiority in their viewers. When a mother watches Toddlers and Tiaras, she feels like a good parent in comparison. Maybe you’re unemployed, broke, and can’t pay the rent; but at least you don’t live in a house with twenty-three goats. Compared to the goat man, you’ve got your life under control.

And, finally, these shows play into a subtler, more deeply-rooted need; the need to feel important. The people on these shows are not supermodels or celebrities. They are not famous athletes or musicians. For the most part, they are unexceptional. They even look like average people; although many actresses and celebrities are thin, young, and beautiful, these reality TV stars look just like us. Their problems are frivolous and unimportant. “Will Melissa’s daughter win the two-and-under pageant?” “Will Emily finally learn that plaid makes her look fat?” “Are they going to have enough icing to finish the whole cake before midnight?” If these people and their stupid problems are worth watching, then isn’t everybody? It gives the sense that all human experience is worth documenting, for one reason or another. None of the people on these shows have any extraordinary talents; they bake cakes or get dressed or parent their children. They haven’t done anything to deserve to be on television. That’s why they are ridiculed; but that’s also why we watch them. In a society obsessed with television and social media, fame and recognition are equated with importance. It’s the same reason people post pictures of their breakfast or haircut to Instagram and Facebook; if we are important, all the mundane things we do are important, and must be catalogued accordingly. It is, essentially, the idealization of triviality. Although this new wave of reality television might be stupid, the people are real, their problems are real, and their lives are real; and if they are important, so are we. 

Author's Note

I'm pretty new to writing things like this. I'd love to know what you think (and if you see any flaws and can point them out to me, I'd be very grateful for the help!)