Reality check: Does reality TV deserve more credit?

Reality TV is certainly a topic that ignites controversial fervour, triggering binary dichotomies of those who crave the escape into strangers’ lives and those who shame or fear the detrimental consequences of the supposedly brain-dead trash TV.

As an unashamed reality TV watcher myself – whether Love Island, Made in Chelsea or the royal family of reality TV, The Kardashians – I believe the TV genre, and those who offer up their personal lives for our benefit (although I’m sure they don’t mind the few extra followers and teeth whitening endorsement deals), deserve more credit.

After a long day of navigating academic stress, and analysing Shakespeare’s sonnets and satire in the English novel, as the clock strikes 9 pm, an hour of escape into the shallow yet undeniably familiar world of Love Island sounds like a sanctuary of bliss. Haven’t I earned an hour of brain-rotting?

Yet within minutes of tuning in, if my dad happens to enter the room, I am bombarded with patronising comments or sheer disdain at the fact I’d ever even want to watch something like this. But, without sounding too cynical, something about watching other women experience such familiar romantic situations is comforting: a reminder that even these bodies oozing sex appeal, still experience rejection, embarrassment, or humiliation.

So much of my own past dating experiences are mirrored in the filtered sunny bubble of reality TV that it becomes a collective bonding experience, igniting conversations and revelations between my friends and me that perhaps we would have been too self-conscious to relate. Similarly, I never fail to notice the sheepish figure of my father hovering by the door, as his moral superiority momentarily wavers as the Barbies and Kens of reality TV draw him into an uncomfortable yet nevertheless addictive mirror-like human psychology lesson.

There is something magnetic about humans watching other humans in such an abstract, unreal setting yet facing such similar, lifelike issues. It is this battle of the familiar and the unknown, truth and falsehood, that continues to pull us in.

Of course, I am aware of the darker side of reality TV that may have consequences, specifically upon warping young people’s perceptions of the world and their worth, if watching is not actively regulated. Yet, as a 20-year-old woman, I can watch an hour of reality TV without believing that it is an accurate reflection of the average person and daily life.

Undeniably, it can set an impossible expectation of perfect bodies as the norm, where your sexuality is your selling point, and set disillusioned expectations for romantic relationships. It is certainly a rare case to observe an intellectual conversation on Love Island, a show where someone once earnestly questioned whether Liverpool was a country. Ouch.

The last decades have seen the metamorphosis of reality TV, initially dismissed as a notorious whim, to a hardened, entertainment monster. Yet for myself and my friends, it has been the monstrous expansion of social media alongside the dawning of the influencer era, that has gripped its claws into our skin, sucked our confidence out and stamped on our sense of self-worth- not reality TV.

It is the ominous accessibility of images of perfect bodies, filters and Photoshop, and the diet culture-infused media relentlessly offering up an alternative life or body that could be ours, if we just bought this product, that has impacted us the most. Yet reality TV allows us a dynamic glimpse into these people’s humanity, vulnerability and emotions. It is more than just pixelated images of perfection. It is an essential reminder that even the wealthy and beautiful have problems, sometimes even worse than our own, annihilating the meticulously edited and filtered images of perfect lives consisting of exotic holidays, abundant social lives and falsified happiness that social media presents us with.

Sophisticated viewers now understand the deceptive ‘reality’ of reality TV, consisting of scripted storylines, staged drama, and heightened editing. Yet, it is this newfound understanding of the self-conscious artificiality that is crucial in allowing us to simply switch off, sit back, and enjoy the performance, thus dwindling the negative impact it could potentially have on us.

The undeniable issues with reality TV, such as a lack of diversity, perpetuating stereotypes, and gender essentialism to name a few, perhaps convey an ugly, unflattering, yet true insight into our society. Does reality TV merely hold up a mirror, spotlighting our own prejudices and general societal issues, that can accelerate positive change and ignite address?

In response to criticism of a lack of diversity and negligence of important conversations, The Real Housewives franchise has diversified its formerly white cast, whilst depicting on-camera discussions about racism that perhaps formerly would have been quickly cut and swept under the rich, luscious rug of reality TV secrecy. While this has been met with varied responses, leading us to question the purpose of reality TV, does the genre owe it to us to be anything but its world of a flashy, contrived reality, capitalising off its shallow and light-hearted nature?

Reality TV feeds viewers’ hunger for gossip and quenches our thirst for drama, allowing us a sense of control and decision-making yet without any personal consequence. Ultimately, it’s a moment of time out. Sprawled out on our sofas with sweet treats on the go, viewers can observe human interactions, identifying with certain peoples’ decisions and being outraged by others, whilst questioning our own values over a bag of Maltesers.

We create perceived alliances with the reality stars, as we enter into a mutually beneficial exchange between our acceptance of their carefully curated truth and their benefit from our entertainment and support. Realising how quickly my friends and I are to jump at condemning or praising someone on our screen, has allowed me to question my own values and beliefs, whilst reevaluating situations in my own personal life. It is the emotional highs and lows, the identification of ourselves in the reality stars, and the exploration of values, that tantalise us.

The unstoppable force of reality TV is seemingly here to stay, even as its implications, responsibilities and motives are questioned. Yet, if one can embrace the superficial nature of tanned, beautiful men and women swanning around in complicated swimwear, how much harm is there really? Maybe it really ‘is what it is’.