Ancient Roman culture highlights a format of entertainment that somehow tuned everyone in despite its violent nature; those, we call gladiator fights. Audiences were jam-packed into coliseums, anticipating the violence as if it were a sport, watching strangers battle for survival all in front of a crowd. Fast forward a couple of thousand years, and while no one is swinging their weapons (thankfully), the emotional stakes of modern dating shows are oddly reminiscent. The battlefield is now a tropical villa, the weapons are deceit paired with fan service and the prize is “true love” — or maybe one to two brand deals. Of course, comparing reality dating shows to ancient combat may be an overstatement, but the spectacle-driven format, toxic drama and public judgment feel strangely similar.
So, while being on a romantic reality TV show clearly affects the behavior of the contestants, who are constantly performing for the cameras, what about the viewers? Do they walk away unscathed, or do they begin to absorb the same performative habits, toxic expectations and dramatic notions of what love should look like?
Let us look at the popular Netflix reality show Too Hot To Handle. The show, which sends conventionally attractive singles to a tropical location to fall in love without physical intimacy, may seem harmless—and perhaps even noble—on the surface. The concept of the show is to create emotional intimacy between the couples before they decide to hop into bed together. However, despite the pretty packaging Too Hot to Handle is wrapped in, the show is engineered to create mass amounts of drama and keep the viewers on the edge of their seats. Humans are naturally drawn to conflict in TV shows and movies because it satisfies a deep-seated curiosity: one that allows us to explore chaos, tension and emotional extremes from a safe distance without having to experience the consequences firsthand.
So if this is the case, what is the harm in exploring this curiosity, especially if the whole point is that we are watching to avoid experiencing these situations ourselves?
There are massive audiences drawn to reality TV shows, and while you might not feel like you are personally being influenced, the culture surrounding these shows trickles into everyday life. From the way people talk about relationships to the popularity of certain dating behaviors, the values and dynamics these shows are promoting become normalized in the real world.
Take the new Netflix show Cheat: Unfinished Business, for example. The series brings together eight ex-couples who were previously in long-term relationships – until one of them (or both) cheated. While it is framed as an emotional experiment exploring forgiveness and closure, the show ultimately glamorizes toxic cycles, making betrayal seem forgivable if wrapped in enough drama and emotional intensity. Instead of promoting healing, it presents volatility as passion and normalizes the idea of rekindling broken trust for entertainment. Forgiveness is not always healing – even more contradictory, several contestants begin pursuing new romantic connections while supposedly working to rebuild things with their exes, undermining the show’s very concept and reinforcing the idea that emotional chaos is not just acceptable, but desirable, if it keeps viewers watching.
The glamourization of toxic relationships we see across multiple other reality TV shows such as The Ultimatum (which forces manufactured jealousy) and 90 Day Fiancé (which sets up intense, high-pressure moments of vulnerability) reveals a troubling pattern: emotional turmoil is being repackaged as entertainment. Much like the Roman crowds who cheered for blood in the arena, today’s audiences are drawn to romantic chaos, betrayals and emotional breakdowns – so long as they are framed for our consumption and negative messaging wrapped in pretty wrapping paper. As the viewers of this media, it is critical we question how these shows may impact our understanding of love and whether or not the toxic mindsets that come from it actually harm our views.