I Hate Reality TV, But Can You Sell Me on Big Brother? I Feel Left Out.

Every summer, my social media feeds transform into a language I don’t speak. We even have a dedicated TV Fanatic Slack channel!

I see people going to the mat for house guests they love to hate or hate to love and everyone in between.

Someone is a snake. Someone else is a floater. Somebody made a huge move. There’s a “toolshed alliance.” Someone veteran is awful. Some newbie is gullible. Alliances are born, die, resurrect themselves, and implode before my eyes.

Meanwhile, I’m over here wondering whether Pluribus has resumed filming.

I have never watched Big Brother. Not one episode. Not one season. Not one “you have to start here” recommendation. Reality television and I have maintained a healthy distance for decades, and I have no intention of changing that.

Probably.

The thing is, well, I feel like I’m missing out on something.

It’s not like I suddenly have an urge to watch strangers trapped in a house plotting against each other. I cover scripted television for a living. 

If I want betrayal, manipulation, and people making terrible decisions, I’ve got Yellowjackets, Severance, Silo, and approximately 87 Taylor Sheridan characters to choose from.

Those people at least have writers. Call me biased, but I love writers!

Yet every year, Big Brother fans show up with the enthusiasm of people who have discovered fire.

They debate strategy and celebrate blindsides. They mourn evictions as if they’ve lost a family member, or celebrate them as if they’ve rid the world of Doctor Doom. 

They somehow keep doing this year after year, and I genuinely don’t get it. That doesn’t mean I don’t see the joy it brings to so many while fully invested in it.

So here’s your chance. Sell me on Big Brother. Don’t tell me it’s “good.” That’s not an argument.

Tell me why someone who’d rather spend an evening theorizing about the next season of Widow’s Bay or arguing about whether The Pitt is television perfection should care about people living together under fluorescent lighting.

What’s the hook? What keeps the popcorn in your hand and your ass firmly planted on the couch, leaning forward while scrolling social media for like-minded viewers who feel the same?

Is it the strategy? The psychology? The social experiment? The chaos?

Or is it simply that, after enough episodes, everyone turns into a sleep-deprived gremlin and that’s somehow magical?

I don’t promise I’ll watch.

In fact, I can almost guarantee I won’t.

My TV calendar is already packed with scripted shows, and there are still more old shows to rediscover that I’d stake my life on before tuning into the Big Brother feeds.

But I’d love to understand why so many people adore it. Is it comparable to anything scripted that might win me over? How would you describe your relationship with this reality juggernaut?

Who knows? Maybe your explanation will finally make the obsession click.

Probably not. Still, I’m curious enough to ask.

So consider this an open challenge. Pretend I’m the hardest person on Earth to convince — because I probably am.

What’s your best pitch? Hit me with your best shot!!!