Do you ever settle in for a night of reality TV, only to feel an unsettling sense of déjà vu?
It’s not just that the scenarios are similar; it’s that the people feel eerily familiar. I’ve noticed it for years and it's become glaringly obvious: reality show casting isn't about finding diverse, authentic individuals. It's about populating a pre-written script with a predictable cast of stereotypical characters. And honestly, I’m tired of it.
Let’s start with America’s favorite quest for temporary TV "love," The Bachelor. I can almost predict the cast list before the season even begins. There will undoubtedly be the quintessential blond Southern belle – usually a former pageant queen or cheerleader, who hails from a traditional, churchy family. She's sweet, giggly and perfectly molds into the role of the wholesome potential wife. And alongside her? A parade of recurring professions: a nurse, a nanny, and a lawyer are practically standard issue. On the flip side, The Bachelorette is equally predictable in its male archetypes. Get ready for the parade of "meatheads" – typically former college football players, fitness trainers, or personal branding "entrepreneurs" with sculpted physiques and often, not much else to say. It’s not just lazy; it’s boring.
Then we pivot to the strategic battlegrounds of shows like Survivor or Big Brother, where the casting directors seem to follow a very specific, and often harmful, blueprint for LGBT representation.
The gay male contestant? Almost invariably, he's someone who embodies an overly feminine, flamboyant caricature of how society (or at least, these casting directors) still views gay men. He's often positioned for comic relief or to stir drama with a catty remark. On the flip side, the lesbian contestant will generally be presented as butch – perhaps with a shaved head, tattoos or a generally masculine presentation. Rarely do we see a low-key, conventionally feminine, or otherwise nuanced portrayal of a lesbian woman. Why? Because subtlety doesn't play into the stereotype, and apparently, stereotypes are what they’re after. It's reductive and tells a diverse community that only certain, often exaggerated, facets of their identity are "telegenic."
And let’s not forget the blatant regional and racial stereotypes. There's almost always "the dude from the South" who's presented as an endearing but somewhat dim-witted hillbilly, perhaps framed as someone who’s "never had electricity before." It’s supposed to be charmingly naive, but it’s just another tired trope. Similarly, the black female contestant often falls into one of two categories, or sometimes both: she’s either portrayed as loud and aggressive, or she's the one who will inevitably chime in on race at some point during the competition. Rarely is she just a person competing or forming relationships, without these preconceived narrative burdens.
Finally, the emotional trump card that seems to be played across all these shows: the tragic backstory. Someone’s family has undoubtedly just recently (or is currently) experiencing cancer, or they’ve just suffered a significant death. This isn't just a coincidence; it’s a calculated move. That story line will get dedicated screentime, ensuring a tearfully emotional moment, a moment of manufactured vulnerability designed to elicit viewer sympathy and deepen an otherwise shallow narrative. It's exploitative and feels incredibly disingenuous.
Why does this bother me so much? Because reality TV promises authenticity but often delivers a carefully curated collection of cardboard cutouts. Don't get me wrong, I've known for a long time that these shows have writers and producers tasked with making entertaining television. I get it, I'm not new here.
After all these years, though, it’s just lazy storytelling, but more importantly, it perpetuates stereotypes in the real world. It tells us that people from certain backgrounds or with certain identities can only be one thing, thereby narrowing our view of humanity and limiting genuine representation. As viewers, we deserve better, and as a society, we should demand more nuanced, genuinely diverse portrayals.
It’s time we stopped falling for these predictable archetypes and started demanding actual reality from our "reality" television. Then again, based on the declining ratings for many of those shows, it seems like I'm not alone in this feeling.