It might be hard to believe but despite being a self-professed hopeless romantic, dating shows aren’t really my thing.
Don’t get me wrong - there are a few I’d watch when there’s not much else on, like First Dates or Married at First Sight. The dating show genre has clearly evolved from the rather banal banter between screened-off contestants on Blind Date to the baying bevy of beauties on Take Me Out.
When Paddy McGuinness boomed “single man, reveal yourself”, I’m sure he didn’t quite envisage a future show where they did just that, albeit slowly from the ankles up. Still, I defy anyone not to have had a sneaky peek at the selection of genitalia on show during Naked Attraction; after all, it’s only human nature, rather like rubber necking at a car accident...
However, despite my indifference to dating shows, there is clearly an appetite for them across the globe. Netflix has been cashing in on the genre for years and will launch their latest offering Love is Blind: UK, hosted by Matt and Emma Willis, in early August.
These shows completely disrespect the idea of commitment. Two strangers who have spoken for a short period of time (in some cases through a wall) or have been matched by a panel of ‘experts’ are clearly not ready to get engaged or married
For those who haven’t seen the US version of this series, the premise is simple. A handful of singletons enter funky vision-proof ‘pods’ where they ‘date’ other singles by communicating through a blank wall. Connections are based solely on their verbal interactions as their chosen partner is not revealed until much later in the process.
On the surface, this seems like a slightly healthier approach to televised romance because it is not based on immediate physical attraction. However, once the couples leave the pods the usual stereotypical dating show soap opera-style narrative ensues, delivering the requisite tears, tantrums and traumas viewers tend to tune in for.
These shows completely disrespect the idea of commitment. Two strangers who have spoken for a short period of time (in some cases through a wall) or have been matched by a panel of ‘experts’ are clearly not ready to get engaged or married. They don’t even know if their significant other sleeps with their socks on or eats with their mouth open – both of which would be make or break for me.
There’s also a distinct lack of authenticity as the majority of contestants who take part in these shows are former models or athletes. You never see a man with a dad bod or beer belly sporting a pair of speedos or a curvaceous woman wearing a modest bathing suit amongst the preening poseurs peddling their wares around the poolside.
But, of course, I get it - these shows are no longer about dating at all (although I accept that a tiny percentage of couples do actually exceed all the odds). They are more likely to be used as springboards for the careers of those seeking their 15 minutes of fame.
It’s now a given to see former Love Island inmates appearing on Strictly, Dancing on Ice or (ironically) I’m a Celebrity. Many of them have appeared in various other shows in their quest to find love or, perhaps more truthfully, the limelight.
Let’s be honest though, these shows are not the for the faint-hearted – to succeed you must be young*, fit, attractive and, above all, supremely confident (*except perhaps for the excruciatingly uncomfortable MILF Manor or My Mum, Your Dad).
Although described as reality TV, Netflix and other entertainment companies are selling us a fantasy and a twisted one at that. So, even though the shows and their dramatic edits are entertaining, remember that a whole cast and crew stand behind the cameras to produce a show that will profit from the exploitation of others, although it’s clear there are many willing to pay the price.
Times have certainly changed since Cilla perched expectantly on the sofa assessing a newly matched couple to see whether she might need to buy a new hat.
