Daft dialogue and unpolished personalities: why reality TV can’t seem to lose its shine.
Our love for reality TV is rooted in something more profound than mere enjoyment. Underneath its “trashy” surface lies a feat of engineering designed to provide an escape from the monotonous everyday, a consistent comfort amid a dull reality. So, just how is this achieved?
It was in the summer of 2000 when UK reality TV show Big Brother (2000-) first graced our screens, ushering in a new kind of television. One that broke previous competition norms by allowing the public to vote on the contestants’ fates instead of a panel of judges. Attracting 10 million viewers, Big Brother kick-started Britain’s infatuation with authentic, messy and, more importantly, entertaining reality TV. Fast-forward to 2025, and reality TV remains massively popular. Programmes like The Celebrity Traitors (2025-) are attracting 11.7 million viewers so far, featuring some hilarious moments of lovable Alan Carr backstabbing his fellow contestants. Moments so good that we, the audience, couldn’t care less whether they were scripted or not. So, why do we still believe in reality TV despite knowing it’s largely fabricated?
Firstly, the regular scheduling of reality TV provides the perfect routine—a late-night escape after a long day at work. Tuesday night’s activities? Unwinding with a cup of tea and enjoying the wholesome The Great British Bake Off (2010-). Thursday night? You’re mentally in the ‘werkroom’ of RuPaul’s Drag Race (2009-). Sunday to Friday? You’re loving that Love Island (2015-). Comforted by the familiar format of the same contestants, same location, consistent challenge winners and eliminations.
Furthermore, this kind of ‘appointment TV’ stands out in an age dominated by streaming services and serves as a throwback to a simpler time before binge-watching. Online and offline, audiences enjoy programmes they can discuss weekly. “Did you see this week’s episode?” makes for easy, reliable conversation.
There is pleasure in this predictability, even within the programmes themselves. Reasonable efforts are continuously rewarded with challenge wins, while mistakes lead to elimination. This kind of reward system naturally separates the ambitious contestants from the arrogant ones, helping to carve out the heroes and villains within each programme’s narrative. Consequently, viewers form emotional and sometimes parasocial relationships with contestants. For example, Big Brother contestant Craig Phillips, who won admiration from audiences when he confronted housemate Nick Bateman (dubbed “Nasty Nick” by the tabloids) for manipulating nominations. A moment full of tension, long pauses, and emotion that only the best actors can fake, this awkward interaction felt undeniably honest to audiences. However, reality TV has a clever way of shifting the viewer’s focus to how an event feels rather than to factual accuracy, heightening drama.
A prime example of this is the new series of The Celebrity Traitors on BBC One. The Celebrity Traitors is a reality TV show that features a group of (relatively) well-known personalities who live together in the highlands in Ardross Castle, completing challenges to add money to a shared prize pot. In a similar fashion to its parent show The Traitors (2022-), hidden among the contestants are several ‘traitors’ who must secretly ‘murder’ their fellow players. Meanwhile, the rest of the players, known as ‘faithfuls,’ must work together to expose and banish the suspected traitors. Unlike its talent and dating-themed counterparts, The Celebrity Traitors feels more like a social experiment than a competition. The drama stems less from personal squabbles and more from genuine emotional responses to paranoia, guilt, and loyalty augmented by the game’s high stakes.
Cleverly casting a variety of prominent personalities, like comedian Tameka Empson and “Chatty Man” Alan Carr, the series prays on organic clashing. As the programme follows the celebs throughout each day of the competition, we get a glimpse of their real personalities and how they truly interact off camera. This realness makes the show feel entertaining and even informative, letting audiences fall in love with the ‘real’ person behind the celebrity. No doubt the behaviour is put on sometimes for entertainment purposes, such as Paloma Faith cheering excessively loudly, or Celia Imrie and Niko Omilana having small talk they would probably never have in real life. However, when Cat Burns lets a secret slip or Alan Carr laughs nervously during a tense moment, it feels relatable and therefore sincere. Viewers can’t help but warm up to the celebs as they flock to social media to share their favourite moments, building rapport with one another.
However, despite contestants’ authentic emotions, production still has a way of shaping the narrative they genuinely desire. Creative editing—manipulating footage to create specific story arcs—is widespread. For example, the US reality TV show The Osbournes (2002-2005), Siblings Jack and Kelly Osbourne confessed that some situations were staged by MTV, according to The Guardian and ABC News. The Only Way Is Essex (2010-) and Made in Chelsea (2011-), like their US inspiration The Hills, are also scripted, with one producer going so far as to (allegedly) lock the cast in a room and force them to fight according to anecdotal claims from cast members on online forums. Other examples of heavy editing occur in the U.S. reality TV show Dance Moms (2011-2019), which, according to past cast member Christi Lukasiak, is notorious for a technique called “frankenbiting“, in which recorded confessional sentences are chopped up to create new, albeit very clunky, dialogue. The editing in The Celebrity Traitors is much more subtle, with shaky camera work, confessionals, natural lighting, and long pauses. All working together to create this sense of intimate realism, a truly coveted trait in today’s age of the matcha-drinking, Clairo-listening “Performative male” epidemic.I’d argue it’s not terribly far from reality to say there is cultural fatigue with overtly polished, squeaky-clean media. We are tired of the spotless perfection of BBLs and brand deals we see on social media. Especially now in 2025, when followers will shoot down influencers if they catch a glimpse of anything less than pure. The mess of reality TV feels undeniably human; believing in it makes us think it’s okay to be imperfect. Despite knowing it’s all edited, we choose to believe because it’s more satisfying than cynicism. The question isn’t “Is reality TV real?”; more than “Does it matter?” – I say in the world of Gemma Collins t-shirts and RuPaul’s Drag Race live shows, it’s safe to say the answer is no. Keep being fake, reality TV, our love for you is real.
Image Credit: BBC
