By Karl Puschmann*
Opinion - Over the past six weeks, I have watched 18 hours of reality television.
An hour a night, three nights a week. During this time my spirits have soared, my belly has laughed and my emotions have been blatantly and outrageously manipulated.
In short, I have been thoroughly entertained by the latest season of Celebrity Treasure Island NZ.
But at what cost?
Although not scientifically validated, it's generally accepted that the genre of reality television rots your brain. That these shows make you dumb and unsmart in ways that 'prestige' shows like, say, The White Lotus or Severance do not.
But after watching a bunch of Aotearoa's acting, joking and sporting finest compete in a gruelling series of physical and mental challenges while also negotiating treacherous social dynamics that could turn on them in an instant, I certainly don't feel any dumber - although that is admittedly a fairly low bar.
So, has this over-exposure to reality TV made me any more uncleverer?
"I don't think so," Dr Rebecca Trelease assures me. "I think it can actually be really educational."
As an educator herself, she should know. Trelease is a senior lecturer in AUT's Critical Media Studies Department and wrote her PhD thesis on the phenomenon of reality television.
But she is not just a studious observer of the genre, she has also been a participant, appearing on the 2016 season of reality dating series The Bachelor NZ.
"There are so many instances that these shows can educate you. Reality TV can expose us to completely new ways of living, religions and experiences of life," she continues.
"It might be the way that they're presented that makes people say it rots the brain, because reality TV is an accessible format."
One thing she's noticed during her studies is that a lot of the genre's haters don't realise that some of their favourite shows fall under the banner of reality TV.
"I've spoken to people and when I've explained, I study reality television they're like, 'I hate it. It's an awful genre. It's terrible. I never watch it. My favourite show is MasterChef. I'm above reality TV.' and I'm like, 'You do realise you're actually watching reality?'
"It's such a wide genre and there's this real disconnect. They might think, 'Oh, it's a cooking show,' but it's still reality."
This is a great observation. I recall disparaging reality TV back in the mid-2000s while also religiously tuning in each week to watch American Chopper, a show about a small family-run custom motorbike company that spent as much time highlighting the ferocious arguments between the father and son as it did the skill and workmanship behind the motorbikes they crafted.
Once thinking along this track more and more shows piled up; Come Dine With Me, Location, Location, Location, Clarkson's Farm and, perhaps the most highbrow of the lot, Grand Designs.
There's a chasm between what we think of when we think of reality TV and what reality TV actually is. Love Island is trash. Grand Designs is worthy. But they are both reality TV. There's a gulf in perception there.
"Absolutely," Trelease confirms.
"It's all about how reality has been linked to low class. In doing that, it's very much informing the public that if you watch this, if you enjoy this, you are low class. So you have people who are wanting to be bigger than their station. They're like, 'Oh no, I want to step aside from that because if I place myself next to it, then I will be seen as low class'. It's the thought of, 'How do we distinguish ourselves from the ordinary folk?'"
Essentially, it's good old-fashioned snobbery. It's possible to love reality TV but hate sub-genres within it. Think of The Wire, one of the most acclaimed and celebrated TV shows of all time. Fans of that show are not likely to sit down and watch NCIS: Sydney yet they're both police procedurals. Succession is a family drama. So is Offspring. Good luck meeting those twains.
Watching reality TV doesn't make you dumb. Dismissing it does. If anything, after watching Celebrity Treasure Island NZ I feel enriched. There were moments during the series that were genuinely heartfelt and uplifting.
What a privilege to see actor Gaby Solomona provide strength to politician Carmel Sepuloni 40 minutes into a gruelling endurance challenge by rallying her with a traditional Samoan song her nana taught her. Or broadcaster Duncan Garner channelling his inner-fortitude through a Māori song. Or, eventual winner JP Foliaki celebrating his victory with a Tongan hymn.
These moments couldn't help but make you proud of Aotearoa's multiculturalism and realise what a unique gift that is. The series was both, a window and a mirror.
"We learn about ourselves, we learn about our society and we're learning what our culture is through these TV shows," Trelease says.
"It shows us what we find important."
* Karl Puschmann is a freelance entertainment writer.