As I stood at a checkout this past weekend a special edition of People magazine caught my eye. It was celebrating the 25th season of ABC’s Bachelor franchise (The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, The Bachelor Pad). I’m not sure what surprised me more in that moment: that the program has had 25 iterations or that I, a feminist scholar, have watched the majority of them.
I’d like to say that I originally started watching The Bachelor in order to carry out profound feminist critiques. But, alas, I first watched the show years before I would start such endeavors. I was never really into reality television but the concept was novel enough (at the time) that when The Bachelor first launched it sucked me in. Its problematic aspects never escaped me, but yet I tuned in until the final rose was handed out time and time again. I took a hiatus from the show for a few years but lately, as the show has become more and more ridiculous, I haven’t been able to step away from it.
For those unfamiliar with the show (good for you), here is the premise: an eligible bachelor (or in off seasons, bachelorette) chooses from approximately 25 potential mates by going on a series of group dates, one-on-one romantic dates, and elimination dates (two-on-one dates). As the series has progressed the locales have become more exotic (finding the would-be-lovers traveling across the globe to various tropical settings and hip cities) and the dates more extreme (cave jumping, skyscraper scaling, zip lining, etc.). The casting has become more and more (obviously) stereotypical with producers (seemingly) looking for a certain “set” of personalities to fill each seasons: the drama queen, the trouble maker, the psychopath, someone with ulterior motives (a career to launch or a secret fiancé back home), and someone guaranteed to bring about a late season twist and heartbreak (the person who leaves the show to return to an ex or an important job). The promotions for the show have not masked its intentions: every season (or episode) promises to offer “more catfights than ever before” or “the most dramatic rose ceremony ever!”
The show, like much of reality television, really reinforces a great number of problematic gender stereotypes and focuses heavily on women as sex/beauty objects (or possessions to be won). (For a great discussion on how this genre of programming is influencing girls and women today, see Jennifer Pozner’s Reality Bites Back). So how can I watch a show that stands for everything I’m against?
I’ve heard of the “fake professor” syndrome (and often thought I suffered from it) but now I’m thinking there should be (if there isn’t already) a “fake feminist” syndrome. At times I catch myself watching romantic comedies, reading a trashy novel, or watching a show like The Bachelor and I think to myself: “you call yourself a feminist?” Because I find it impossible to keep my gender critique hat on at all times. Sometimes I’m just simply seduced by the pop culture imagery and find myself unintelligibly consuming the narratives that flit across the page or screen.
But perhaps I’m being too hard on myself. There are various theories for why people watch reality television. I’ll list them below and try to figure out which of these explains (but doesn’t justify) my viewing practices.
Schadenfreude: The idea behind this theory is that we rejoice in the misery of others and enjoy being put into situations where we feel superior to others. The various gross out reality television shows (like Fear Factor) often fall into this category. Viewers watch and are glad to NOT be the contestants. This also likely fits why some people watch The Bachelor. They enjoy smirking at the bad behavior of the silly contestants and their antics that get them their 15 minutes of fame. A person who watches The Bachelor for these reasons (e.g. to laugh at the catfights) would be comparable to one who watches American Idol primarily for the audition sequence where a bunch of talentless folks exist as the butt of the joke.
Voyeurism: This theory would posit that we enjoy seeing what should not be seen – private exchanges that normally occur behind closed doors. The celebrity/family shows usually fit this bill (e.g. The Osborne Family), as we see how people interact with one another when outside the public eye. Viewers who watch The Bachelor for this reason would find it intriguing to watch a first date unfold, to witness an awkward (or romantic) first kiss, or a tear-filled break up. (The worst example of this in the Bachelor history had to be when Jason Mesnick broke up with fiancé Melissa Rycroft on live television during the “After the Final Rose” special episode; Mesnick admitted he still had feelings for runner-up Molly Malaney, who he eventually married in a special Bachelor Wedding episode).
Vicarious Affect: This theory would suggest that viewers enjoy living through the emotional ups and downs of the characters on reality television shows. Viewers who tune into American Idol not to laugh at contestants but to actually cheer for them, who pick up the phone and actually cast a vote, would fall under this category. Can’t be a rock star? Fine, so live vicariously through the successes of your favorite contestant. In the Bachelor universe this would translate into: can’t afford to take a helicopter ride over a an active volcano, have dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower, or spend a day lounging around on your own private island, fine then just tune into the show and live through the romantic exploits of your favorite couple.
So which theory fits why I watch? Although I do admit that I chuckle occasionally at the very bad behavior and staged aspect of the show, I don’t think schadenfreude explains my motives for tuning in. (Although I’d be lying if I said I *never* felt superior to those flitting across my television scene). Because so much of reality television is not reality (not moments of the real captured, but staged and strategically edited moments packaged in a certain way), the voyeurism theory also doesn’t explain my viewing. So I am left with vicarious affect. While this theory might suggest I’m a hopeless romantic who wishes that I had had the opportunity to go on some of these extravagant dream dates (and this might be true), I feel more comfortable with connecting this theory to my love of travel. I love the panoramic shots of beautiful locations and the sneak peeks into fancy, upscale resorts. But if this is the case, why not just watch the travel channel? Why become a virtual tourist through a silly reality program? There’s simply no way around it. I want to pick a relationship to root for (just as I want to root against various contestants as well). I must watch the Bachelor for the same reason that I watch romantic comedies. Despite their formulaic gimmicks, I must find something appealing in the myth of the happily ever after that these shows promote. (And myth it is as the show, and tabloids, are quick to let viewers know in the future which couples work and which do not. Most Bachelor couples, unsurprisingly, do not really make it in the long run).
So as the 25th season gets into gear this month, will I be able to watch the show more critically than normal or will I be just one of the masses, consuming it without much thought? I hope the former but I’m betting on the latter.
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