Australian Reality TV Is The Worst, But We’re Doing It To Ourselves

I’m one of the two million people addicted to the current season of The Voice. But, like many viewers of questionable Australian TV productions, I watch with one eye on the screen and the other on my Twitter account. I feel that as long as I watch it critically rather than passively, I’m okay.

In between performances and profound musings from Seal, I’ll scroll through the #thevoiceAU hashtag and devour the witty comments and judgmental quips.

Part of the appeal of watching mass-market television is knowing you’re not alone, that you’re part of the pop culture dialogue. It’s no fun standing around the Twitter water cooler, desperate to talk about what went down on 7.30, only to find that the subject du jour is Darren McMullen’s hair — hot or not? (In case you’re undecided, Richard Wilkins has called it.)

Interactive participation from the cast adds to the experience. Take the below image, which was tweeted out by McMullen, The Voice’s host. It’ll make you feel like you’re in on the behind-the-scenes jokes — and it’s why crap TV will continue to thrive, slashed budgets or otherwise.

If it encourages engagement? Even better.

There’s an unspoken guarantee that each show’s talent will give the program more bang for its buck, by sharing unscripted perspectives about their experience before, during and after it airs… That, and plenty of selfies.

Celebrity Splash: A Case Study

Media commentators express bemusement about high ratings for shows like Celebrity Splash, which received over a million viewers on its first outing.  What they don’t understand is that the producers of these shows have managed to galvanise social media, making it a springboard for robust digital conversations between total strangers who are consuming the same media across the country. If you’re anything like me, you might have flicked the show on just to see what the fuss was about when the #CelebritySplash hashtag appeared in your Twitter feed — you weren’t watching as a committed viewer, but that doesn’t matter to ratings.

And there’s something beautifully masochistic about watching something so bad it’s good, and sharing that smug we’re better than this feeling. Especially when you’re sharing it with notable types.

But we get over being better than crap television fast. According to TV Tonight, Seven will be cancelling the second semi-final of Celebrity Splash, to wrap it up sooner than expected and bury it with all the other dodgy TV that wasn’t strong enough to capture our attention for an entire series.

Of course, tacky TV isn’t new. Our generation was built on it, and so was the one before that. Where would we be without such superb historic cultural references as Perfect Match, Man O Man and Supermarket Sweep? If the internet had been around while those shows were running, imagine the fun we might have had dissecting them like the pop culture savages we are.

And if it wasn’t for crap TV, where would people find the inspiration for this sort of creativity?

So, What’s The Problem?

If there’s something to be worried about here, it’s that we supposedly-savvy online media consumers haven’t yet found a way to outwit the television networks. We verbalise our distaste, cynical fascination or morbid curiosity immediately on Twitter and Facebook — but all publicity is good publicity. To those clever television execs, the people’s voice is free and worth harnessing.

Meaning that not only are we watching crap television, but we’re marketing it ourselves. What a bunch of suckers.

These guys know it’s a piss-take as much as the average punter does. But the joke’s on us: at least they’re paid to show up.

And then there’s the schadenfreude effect. Viewers love it when people screw up; who doesn’t want to see Josh Thomas’s spray tan wash away in the pool? Or Brynne lose her fake eyelashes?

The hashtag goes viral, which equals more viewers, a satisfied network, and a healthy paycheck.

Emdur knows that the Australian people just won’t stop tweeting about what they’re watching, whether we love it or hate it. We add fuel to the celebrity culture fire, providing an outlet for this nation’s talent to share their deepest thoughts with us. Like this important nugget.

If you’re truly concerned about the nation’s viewing habits, perhaps you might consider turning off the television and the radio, putting down your iPad and your smartphone. Because if you’re living in this day and age, there’s no escaping it unless you log off.

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Nicole Haddow is a freelance writer, who’s been published in CLEO, Sunday Life, Women’s Health and more. She’s also written digital copy for television shows including The X Factor and Australia’s Got Talent. When she’s not writing, chances are she’s watching YouTube clips of bad ’80s pop or tweeting.