The dark reason we all love The Traitors – and can’t wait for series 2
We like to peer through the bars at the reality TV zoo of our own species, because what we find simultaneously attracts and repels us
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What does it mean to be human? Now, lest you think I’ve been at the post-Christmas Baileys for breakfast (I haven’t), or sound like a student at 3am at the dregs of a house party, hear me out. I’ll rephrase: why do we love The Traitors so much?
The two questions are inextricably linked, in my opinion. They are the reason we became collectively hooked on programmes like Big Brother, when it first came out; the reason we watch Love Island and I’m A Celebrity (though a peculiarly sadistic urge to see Nigel Farage and Matt Hancock chomping on camel penis and cow anus certainly can’t be denied).
Human beings are fascinating. We like to peer through the bars at the reality TV zoo of our own species, because what we find there simultaneously attracts and repels us. We are horrified, we are thrilled, we are captivated, we are repulsed, we are aroused.
We are both shocked by what we see from our fellow humankind, but we are also unsurprised. We know that we carry as much darkness around inside us as we do light, though we might never admit it. We watch as voyeurs, but we also watch to see ourselves in dazzling exhibition. Reality TV is a mirror to ourselves.
So, then, The Traitors. Is it any wonder the first series did so well at the Baftas? It isn’t to me: not when you consider it was the sleeper hit of the season, hosted by “but I thought she was so nice” Claudia Winkleman, who won Best Entertainment Performance and had the audience in stitches with her speech.
Even the choice of host is a perfect exploration of human psychology in action. You see, I’d almost written off Winkles; decided (in my own mind) she was the perfect person for TV fluff. The pretty dresses on Strictly; the slightly edgier, raven-haired counterpart to Tess Daly’s fairy godmother frothy lightness, but still Strictly, at the end of the day. Not so with The Traitors. In the show, Winkles was savage. And it was as brilliant as it was unexpected.
When the first “murder” took place, setting the scene for the show’s “gasp out loud” trajectory, she literally tore the poor lass’s framed portrait off the wall and chucked it on the floor. Get in the bin, she was saying. You’re dead, now! Gone! Who knew national treasure Winkles could be so deadly? Just look at what she did in the very first episode! Got rid of the guys who tried to play humble; who pretended they wouldn’t have a hope in hell of winning – which they didn’t, because Winkles ordered them to leave. That backfired, didn’t it, lads? I’m guessing she’ll be even more frightening in series two...
According to the psychiatrist and reality TV consultant, Dr Carole Lieberman, we like to watch reality TV shows like The Traitors to “live vicariously” through what we see on screen. We can identify with the very human emotions we see there: pain, disappointment, the thrill of victory – even love – without having to risk our own from within the bubble of our homes. We can co-opt the joy and tension, without experiencing risk: to our hearts or to our reputations. We watch safely, from behind glass.
It makes perfect sense to me, only I’d go one step further and say that what I think makes us so drawn to TV programmes like The Traitors is empathy. We relate to the fact that life is full of rollercoaster ups and downs. We have all – at some point or another – either betrayed someone or been betrayed.
It frightens us that we can’t ever really “know” another person, inside out. We can’t “see” into their hearts or minds. We watch so that we can try to understand, so that we can consider ourselves “experts” in people and so avoid ever being hurt – but we realise, with a sinking feeling, as the show goes on, that that’s impossible.
To live fully involves risk and it also involves blind faith: in ourselves and in other people. At some level, we are all (or all have the potential to be) traitors. We look at the good and bad sides of human behaviour, the faithful and the turncoats and we see... ourselves. Now, isn’t that thrilling?