Tuesday is debasement night this summer on ABC.
There’s plenty of degradation to go around, for those on camera, as well as those watching.
A pair of series devoted to physical goofs are noteworthy not only for their hit ratings but for exceeding the level of embarrassment we’re accustomed to when an “American Idol” contestant goes off-key or a “Survivor” competitor gets outwitted and outlasted by someone smarter or meaner.
You’ve seen the promos: Muscle-bound athletes race across giant red balloons above a mud hole. It is clear from their pace, the length of their stride and the distance between the giant bouncy balls what is going to happen next. This is “Wipeout,” airing at 7 p.m. Tuesdays on ABC (locally KMGH-Channel 7), this summer’s top new series. The entertainment value lies in observing the mud- splashed humiliation.
Unlike reality series that treat humiliations somewhat diplomatically (think Donald Trump candidly debriefing contenders in the board room or Jeff Probst piously dismissing poor strategists from the island), in these slapstick shows, the hosts encourage viewers to “point and laugh.”
The reaction at home as dizzy gamers flop into the muck is a vicarious, “D’oh!”
The reaction in ABC executive suites is ecstatic: “Wipeout” is the summer’s No. 1 hit, with an audience of 10 million viewers. The audience grew by nearly 2 million in the second half — always a good sign.
Pratfalls vs. brat falls
“I Survived a Japanese Game Show,” which follows at 8 p.m. Tuesdays, drew 8 million viewers and scored particularly well with young males. A human Tetris game that knocks people into the water is just the beginning of that shame party. The sight of chunky adults outfitted in diapers is embarrassing for player and audience.
We may not be proud to say we get a kick out of seeing ungraceful bloopers, but the instinct is as natural as gravity. Any infant will tell you the funniest thing in the world is seeing someone fall down.
Social psychologist Elliott Aronson, professor emeritus at the University of California in Santa Cruz and author of “Mistakes Were Made but not by Me,” says, “Social comparison is a very powerful motive.”
People make themselves feel better by measuring themselves against someone else and telling themselves they wouldn’t get caught in that position. They would never sing as badly as the tone-deaf applicants on “American Idol,” they wouldn’t date/cook/eat bugs/co-habit as exhibitionistically as the idiots on TV. Just look what happens to those who do, they tell themselves.
Social comparison can be a very healthy mechanism, Aronson stresses. “If you’ve got cancer, it’s useful to be in a room with people who have a more virulent form of the disease. Then you can tell yourself, ‘I’m doing OK.’ ” Scientific studies suggest that kind of comparison can actually prolong life.
The less-healthy side of social comparison is schadenfreude, or pleasure in the misfortune of others. That’s not a feeling to be proud of, Aronson notes. “People felt good when Martha Stewart was in prison,” Aronson said. “Little Miss Perfect got her comeuppance.”
Schadenfreude is a pathetic attempt to feel better about yourself. But social comparison — especially at a distance via television — is perfectly healthy. If watching contestants fall in the mud makes people feel less clumsy or less stupid, so be it.
“It does make people feel better about themselves and, of course, the networks take full advantage,” Aronson said.
Not everyone is so approving, including Stuart Fischoff, Los Angeles-based senior editor at The Journal of Media Psychology. He calls these reality shows “one more step on the road to complete abdication of a sense of self-esteem or dignity. Dignity is not an important commodity in our society anymore, as long as you’re on television somewhere.”
This isn’t just a matter of silly summer fun, he maintains. “It’s been happening for a long time. Having the hosts humiliate you, having the judges take you apart, whether on tabloid talk shows like ‘Jerry Springer’ or ‘American Idol’ or these new humiliation shows. This is a menu of life we work from now. We’re democratizing elitism; you don’t have to have any kind of talents. What used to be private now is made public.”
Regression to the meanness
Ultimately, the phenomenon isn’t a reflection of a country at war or a declining economy or any larger event, Fischoff said. “It’s pop culture, the opportunity to be a celebrity.”
Maybe that’s what we all secretly want, even if we are afraid to go for it. Richmond, Va.-based psychologist Alan Entin, who specializes in media psychology, offered another reason millions of couch potatoes are drawn to these spectacles.
“There’s something about our urge to do something ridiculous ourselves. People who get more self-esteem and gratification in other ways don’t go on or watch these kinds of shows. But a lot of people don’t have that sense of self.”
TV’s lose-your-balance, lose- your-dignity contests constitute “regressive behavior,” Entin said. Such shows offer “a feeling-oriented world, emotionally based functioning, no thinking, pure impulse, which leads to irrational behaviors.”
At least on Tuesdays on ABC, the no-thinking summer of humiliation is officially in session.
Joanne Ostrow: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
TV’s dark side: Humiliation’s greatest hits
1. “Queen for a Day” First a radio show, then a 1950s daytime TV show, the classic debase-me-now tear-jerker had women competing for rock bottom, explaining why they needed sympathy and a free night on the town. An applause- meter measured audience reaction, and ultimately the most pathetic woman was escorted in velvet robe and crown to her throne. Clearly, a forerunner to today’s reality shows.
2.”The Ricki Lake Show,” an early-’90s tabloid hosted by a one-time Broadway musical talent, featuring inarticulate lower-middle-class women who were down on their luck. Popular themes were obesity and women in bad relationships, whom Lake would counsel, “Drop that zero, get yourself a hero!”
3.”Jerry Springer” evolved from a talk show hosted by a former politician to tabloid sensationalism, specializing in confronting guests with a spouse or family member’s secret. Whether it was over adultery, prostitution, transvestism or other controversial situations, the shaming led to screaming, cursing, chair-throwing, fistfights and other indignities.
4.”The Apprentice” began by applauding the business skills of youthful contenders and went on to insult them for failing to do better. The showcase for Donald Trump and his real estate culminated in a tough send-off: “You’re fired!”
5.”The Weakest Link” starred strict British disciplinarian Anne Robinson asking trivia questions of two players until one of them bombed out. Then, before turning her back on the poor shmo, she proclaimed, “You are the weakest link!”
6.”Fear Factor” contestants must eat various animal parts, usually eyeballs and sexual organs, in this amped-up, daredevil version of “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”
