She's on TV, she deserves the hate!

Public vilification of reality stars is OK when you're morally righteous

I planned to publish a different newsletter this week, but my social media has been inundated with wild reactions to new episodes of The Bachelor, particularly the perception of this season's “villain.” Ironically, as a reality show winner myself, I don’t watch reality TV or much TV at all - I don’t even own one. (If you don’t know about my Vegan victory on Survive The Raft, stay tuned, there is more to come on that later.) I must be clear that I have not seen this season of The Bachelor, or even clips of the alleged villain's behavior. You may immediately think I then have no leg to stand on in discussing the matter. However, I can assure you that I have just as much knowledge as you do about the situation, which is none. 

Reality media first emerged with Candid Microphone (later turned Candid Camera) debuting on the radio in 1948 and has since spawned into an array of genres spanning from life-changing competitions like American Idol, to the People’s Court, to arguably the most fan-obsessed series, The Bachelor, going strong with 28 seasons. When I was a teenager, America's Next Top Model was the prominent show everyone my age had their eyes on. My friends and I watched in shock and awe as Tyra shaved contestants' hair or scolded them in the name of “success.” She encouraged us to believe that the program wanted the best for the contestants, and when she labeled them as ungrateful, we turned up our noses and shamed the models. We devoured the narrative we were given, licking crumbs off of the floor blindly believing they were honest. Trusting in the edit. Tyra knew best, right?

Today, it is undoubtedly clear that shows like ANTM exploited and harmed their contestants. We now universally offer retroactive sympathy to the models who were scolded for their size or were caught in an emotional breakdown amid exhaustion and extreme stress. Nevertheless, as reality shows continue to take commanding center stage in many of our social entertainment arenas, it is clear we haven’t learned from our previous mistakes. We offer commiseration to reality stars of old but refuse to accept that today’s contestants are just as wrongly framed. 

Reality viewers are engulfed in the episodes of a season, trusting in the presumed all-knowing narrator, assuming the storyline has everyone’s best interest at heart. We believe the scenes that we see on our screens are the truth. The cameras are filming 24/7 therefore we must know everything that happens, right? No, we don’t. We are watching a fictional story. Reality shows are created for a single purpose, and that is entertainment. Every narrative must follow a structure to incite a reaction. Primarily, that tale has a hero and a villain to create a central struggle. Throughout a reality show program, the hero and villain may shift from one person to another, however, to maintain viewership the drama must ensue. Nothing creates more of an emotional reaction than hate, the producers want you to feel that hate. They make sure of it. 

Despite tightly bound non-disclosure agreements, reality stars have become more vocal about the poor treatment they received both while filming, and after through online harassment from viewers upon release of the show. Dozens of contestants have committed suicide subsequently, realizing their original intentions and the outcome were far removed from one another. Contestants are faced not only with the challenges of whatever is happening in front of the camera. But, more so, the treacherous task of taking on the people behind the camera, whom they initially believed to be on their side. The story is curated by producers to elicit a reaction. To piss you off, to keep you watching. 

Once edited and on screen, contestants find their personas have been morphed into one-dimensional archetypal caricatures that feed into a structured fictional narrative. Yet, unfortunately, the viewer doesn’t understand that this is fiction and believes the story to be fact, which then compels them to inform the contestant of just how terrible of a person they believe them to be. Showmakers revel in this reaction, as it boosts viewership and conversation about the show. All press is good press when you’re the one making the profit. For the contestants, this is nothing short of torture. 

Tens of thousands of hopefuls send in submissions to their favorite show every year, thinking their experience will be different. Thinking they will be portrayed in a light that will help them gain fame and money, or skyrocket their social currency. Some people are just looking for a wild outdoor adventure (ahem, me). Sadly, many stars find themselves full of regret, wishing they never accepted to be mic’d up in the first place. Reality television contestants are modern-day gladiators, hoping to change their current life to one with opportunity and excitement, only to be caught fighting to the death with others who are just as susceptible to the desires of reality stardom. While those in control stand idly by unscathed, and the crowd finds a sort of entitlement over those dueling in the center.

While on set, the hopefuls are often placed in precarious situations, with limited food, water, and sleep. They’re displaced, mentally unwell, and sometimes physically harmed. In 2023 Netflix recreated their most watched show, the culturally triumphant Squid Games, into a reality spin-off garnering 1.1 million views within the first 5 days. Ironically, people watched as the TV program recreated exploitation in the pursuit of financial gain, a dark parallel to the original series, while participants came across an experience they did not expect. Regardless of the prominence of Netflix, contestants claim they faced frostbite and harsh filming conditions, with several threatening legal action over their mistreatment.

Cast members relay stories of forced consumption of alcohol to encourage nefarious behavior, and plummeting mental health during and after filming, which is largely ignored by show producers. The filming environment does not allow for anyone’s best behavior, it is distinctly curated to irritate and exploit participants, causing them to act untrue to their authentic behavior. 

Beyond physical ailments, cast members are often encouraged by the producers to behave or think in a certain way. Having insider information, producers will communicate with the contestants and suggest that another contestant is being dishonest or is starting trouble within the group, even though statements may be untrue. Many of the interactions that are shown in front of the camera are prompted by those off camera just moments before. Personal interviews are also a messy place for participants, with interviewers leading them to offer information they wouldn't otherwise or walking them into making a grandiose statement that is untrue to their original intentions; and sometimes altering their words in entirety, known as Frankenbiting. Editors use this sneaky tool to change the original utility of a sentence to fit a different narrative, leaving cast members highly confused once the show airs. 

Some reality programs film for only several weeks like Survivor which ends after 26 days of outdoor alliance forming, whereas love-yearning women on The Bachelor film for 9 weeks. Depending on the episode, we may see between 44 and 84 minutes of reality drama. This may sound like a fair amount of time to tell a story, however, one must consider the amount of conversation and action that must be removed to chop down an episode before it lands on a streaming service. This editing excludes a great deal of subcontext and nuance that occurs in any situation in life. Imagine how infuriating it would be to have an experience re-told by strangers who intentionally condense and alter the events. 

Our social obsession with reality television informs society's strange desire to observe conflict and subsequently form a rallying cry to criticize and attack the individual who is deemed the villain, in a modern-day tarring and feathering. Contestants receive messages filled with racial slurs, death threats, and excessively vulgar language on their social media. Yet, due to their non-disclosure agreements, they must remain silent with no means to defend themselves or tell their side of the story. Some contracts uphold the right to reframe an individual entirely, to whatever extent the production company wishes. Contestants walk into the camera frame with the hope of an exciting new adventure, potentially finding love, or winning life-changing money, yet few are given the chance to be their best selves. 

Many producers are aware of the heavy toll that online harassment and editing have on cast members. Shows like The Circle implemented the #BeKind Twitter campaign to encourage viewers to think before they unleash harsh criticism on the contestants after many cast members were inundated with online bullying from fans. However, the stars vocalized that this notion had little to no effect on the messages landing in their inbox and many have expressed that they received no support from the production company even after reaching out for help. 

When watching a scripted fictitious TV show or film, we are aware that our hatred for the villain and love for the hero is curated by those behind the screen. No one heads to the social media account of Iwan Rheonto to condemn and harass him, yet we are eager to do just that to whichever cast member has been forced into the negative spotlight that week. The episode that we see on our television screens may be far removed from the truth, or worse, it may just have been coerced and plotted by someone whose face we never see on TV.

The end of reality TV is not on the horizon, our streaming services are filled with non-scripted content now more than ever, and with our cell phones in hand at all times, we are ready and willing to criticize our least favorite member at a moment's notice. It is expected that the audience feels an emotional reaction while watching a show, but to break the fourth wall and berate contestants who do not have control over the environment is simply something we should not be complicit in. Our obsession with moral goodness as portrayed on television creates the notion that communal vilification is just when we don’t agree with the behavior of an on-screen individual. Many of us would deny any wrongdoing as we find it fair to belittle someone in the name of “She’s a mean girl!” or “He’s a bully!” Therefore placing character declarations on mere guinea pigs within an experiment, finding righteousness within the reality stars disparagement. Who is to blame, those volunteering or those conducting? 

What do you think? Do participants deserve less sympathy due to their willingness to be on screen? Is their yearning for new possibilities a just cause to vilify them? Are the villains genuinely bad people? Can editing only go so far? Let me know!