In the wake of reality television's downward popularity turn, I've been thinking much about the current state of the broadcast economy. (Not the capital state, but the content state, of course.) I've come to this conclusion: Television at present is all about how low we can go.
Take for example, the hugely popular, "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" I spent several wasted hours in total gaping at the inaneness that passes as a game show. Hosted by Jeff Foxworthy, who (as my brother correctly notes) can insult players, children, and audience members equally and with utter charm, the program is as it sounds: a real life adult is pitted against a 5th grade student in categories that range from 1st to 5th grade levels of academic accomplishment in an attempt to claim cash.
(Now, if I were still in elementary school, I'm certain I would feel differently about this competition--likely I would be begging my parents to send me to the show. Unfortunately for my bank account, the apparent devolution of social achievement had not quite begun when I was a fifth grader; I had the traditional paper route.)
I kept telling myself that the average American adult, assuming graduation from high school or close to it, allowing for the 12 to 24 years of memory suppression and degeneration since the fifth grade, and calculating in the odd bit of knowledge retention from Jeopardy, Bill Nye, and/or an episode of CSI--this representational cross-section of the nation's public could be conceivably forgiven for a few lapses in rote memory recall. Until...
An honest-to-goodness rocket scientist came to play. He was even cheered on (via satellite, of course) by his colleagues at NASA. He was badly trounced by an eager, know-it-all young man who was having (recognizably) the time of his life. I watched in horror as the contestant mispelled, misguessed, and miscalculated his way to his opponent's acquisition of a college fund. When it was all over, my mom mused aloud what I was thinking myself: "I hope he has a job when he goes back to NASA."
Perhaps I've missed the point. Perhaps (I hope silently, in an attempt to make some rational sense out of the incredulity) the idea is to placate the youngsters' egos while at the same time doing your bit to better the problem of educational funding (not to mention garner ratings for what has got to be the worst-named game show of all time) without it costing you a cent more on your taxes. If only.
No seriously. If only MY college education (ongoing as it may be) were afforded at the mere trifle of some adult's prime time humiliation. Granted, it would have to have been the equivalent of a Big Brother or Survivor-size humiliation, but the point is still valid. It could even be a new category of financial aid: loan, grant, scholarship, game-show winnings...
Anyway, I'm getting away from my original observation. The name of the game is "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" Not a rocket scientist or a political head of state or a chief of surgery--a fifth grader. While we're playing for thousands of dollars, let's not bother to aim much higher than the 5th grade, which even great-grandpappy Earl completed. This works well to assuge the general public that even if they can't remember which of the original 13 colonies was named after a king, neither can the guy who is in charge of the launch out of the state just southerly.
Another example of this low-aim standard on television is a sitcom called "The New Adventures of Old Christine." Tee-hee at the clever writers' antonymic hijinks. "Huh?" was generally my reaction. What's an 'old Christine?' Find out she's played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus and this makes even less sense. (Unless, of course, you're really sick of the actress herself, in which case, the show is still poorly named. "The New Adventures of Old Elaine" was my first interpretation...) At any rate, watch ANY episode and you will learn that she is called "old Christine" because she is the ex-wife of a man who married another, "new" Christine. And, oh yeah. These are her adventures. New ones.
I swear they didn't even try to think of a better title.
But I digress [again]. This is not even the low I am getting at.
On most sitcoms, while the characters may periodically and for humor sake break socially accepted "rules," the episode will end with a nice and tidy conclusion which consists of an apology/consequence/moral. Exceptions to this are things such as "The Simpson's" which derives even further humor from twisting this moral around. Because it is an animated form of the sitcom (and thus marked in its delivery), "The Simpson's" can get away with this and remain entirely safe from societal unrest. However, consider this scenario which recently aired on an episode of tNAoOC:
It's election time. Christine wants to set a good example for her young son, but she hates those annoying polling people who want her time and/or signature. After nearly running one down with her grocery cart, she muses to her ex-husband and brother that she's politically informed--she knows exactly who she's voting for (the attractive guy). She's irritated to find out that her ex has a better grasp of the issues, but even this matters not enough to inspire her to remember to vote, which she is shamed into doing at the last minute, protesting the entire time that "Idol" is on. She arrives at the polling place to find that her name is not on the list of registered voters, and gives up, taking her son home with "any questions about democracy?"
The episode then goes out onto a political tangent which has no bearing on this storyline, and ENDS with her on her couch, teaching her son how to vote via phone for the "Idol" of his choosing.
I was stunned when the credits roled. This wasn't a joke or a flashback or a "to be continued." It was a genuine reflection of the altered social acceptability of mediocracy. And if you're not convinced this is the case, consider that Julia was just nominated for a 2007 emmy award for this show.
It seemed only predictable that years of reality tv should be followed by a sharp increase in fantasy in prime time. Medium, Ghost Whisperer, Heroes, and Moonlight among others are steadily making their way into the timeslots once consummed by unscripted embarrassments of human culture. What I did not foresee was the shift in tolerance of deplorable fictional behavior, the allowance of narrative character decline. My new (and sadly, somewhat disillusioned) perspective is thus: Feed a people Bad Television for years, and they will thank you when you give them only slightly less bad television.
That, and perhaps we should let our 5th graders vote.
