The Worst Thing to Happen to White People
Written in Recognition of Black History Month
You have heard it said, '“You are what you eat.” But I offer a better saying, “You are what you justify.”.
-Gene of the Guild Right
Trash television—programming that sensationalizes personal conflicts, exaggerates social problems, and packages drama as entertainment—has profoundly damaged the white community (Gillespie, 2017). For the white lower class, in particular, this type of programming feeds off and magnifies damaging stereotypes. Producers create a feedback loop by focusing on the most chaotic and shocking attributes of struggling families. They capture the worst impulses on camera, amplify them for ratings, and then market the spectacle to viewers. Over time, these shows erode self-worth and incubate sociopathy among audiences who see no alternative portrayals. As a result, trash television reshapes cultural perceptions and influences real-life conduct (Moore, 2019).
In doing so, we see how trash television becomes a destructive force rather than a harmless form of leisure. While some argue that viewers should discern reality from television’s exaggerated spectacles, the repetitive cycle of scandal-driven episodes fosters an environment that degrades the actual communities it claims to represent (Turner, 2020).
Amplification of Negative Stereotypes
Well, at least we’re not like those people.
-How the White Trash Live with Themselves
Reality talk shows and sensational documentaries often zero in on rural or working-class whites. Programs like The Jerry Springer Show or Here Comes Honey Boo Boo cherry-pick participants known for outbursts or eccentricities (Gillespie, 2017). By showcasing families in a perpetual state of chaos—arguing, swearing, hurling insults—they produce dramatic footage that drives viewership. This selective editing creates a public image of entire communities as inherently reckless or crude (Moore, 2019). The families who appear are desperate for financial support and agree to conditions that highlight their most troubling aspects. Producers use abrupt scene cuts and provocative taglines to emphasize every misstep, further embellishing the “train wreck” effect to keep audiences hooked.
In practice, these shows become a loop of reinforcement. When rural or working-class viewers see their lives caricatured in outlandish ways, some begin emulating the behaviors on screen, believing conflict-ridden drama is normal (Moore, 2019). Others reject the shows in disgust but still feel the cultural stigma that they are part of an unruly “white trash” demographic. Meanwhile, networks profit substantially from advertising revenues, counting on audience fascination with shocking content. As Waters (2016) suggests, trash television thrives because it is cheap to produce and yields high returns, with entire segments structured around sensational conflict.
Such portrayals have a broader influence on American society’s collective imagination. Viewers from outside these communities—whether in urban centers or international audiences—associate white lower-class culture with the dysfunction displayed on screen (Gillespie, 2017). These images generalize prejudice, overshadowing real socio-economic challenges, family values, or community pride within these locales. By reducing complex human lives to punchlines, the shows contribute to a shallow cultural landscape where empathy and nuance are lost in favor of explosive “gotcha” moments (Turner, 2020).
Encouragement of Destructive Behaviors
It ends in suicide. If only it began that way.
One of the most insidious effects of trash television is how it rewards negative behavior. Producers and hosts frequently stage segments that encourage participants to yell, fight, or reveal humiliating secrets, knowing these moments will make for compelling viewing (Gillespie, 2017). The audience’s on-set applause and cheers, especially during heated confrontations, create an incentive cycle: the more aggressive and outrageous the behavior, the bigger the reaction (Moore, 2019). Real people who otherwise try to manage personal disputes discreetly find themselves locked in a system that glamorizes disrespect and verbal abuse.
From a psychological standpoint, repeated exposure to such programming normalizes antisociality. Turner (2020) suggests that people who watch these shows regularly adopt belligerence in their relationships, internalizing the idea that drama is entertaining and a legitimate way to handle conflict. Over time, destructive habits—like constant arguing or irresponsible spending—become commonplace. This extends to how families discipline children, how friends resolve disagreements, and how neighborhoods approach community challenges.
The problem compounds when financial incentives enter the mix. In some cases, it shows that participants receive cash or other gifts for appearing on-screen, potentially reinforcing the message that bad behavior pays off (Waters, 2016). Viewers struggling financially see these examples and feel tempted to replicate them, rationalizing that at least there is a short-term reward. This cycle is especially damaging for impressionable youths. Instead of learning to amaze themselves with genuine achievement or adopt positive coping mechanisms, they see shouting and brawling as a path to attention.
Such behaviors also hurt the long-term prospects of an already vulnerable demographic. People from struggling white working-class backgrounds may need constructive outlets, job training, or educational resources to improve their circumstances (Moore, 2019). Instead, they absorb media that glamorizes dysfunction, overshadowing avenues for growth. This diversion from refinement stalls and eventually reverses the course of entire communities, as many residents become entrenched in toxic cycles of conflict rather than exploring opportunities for real improvement (Turner, 2020).
Degradation of White Lower-Class Communities
Face it. We’re wiggers. And that’s all we evah gonna be!
-Uncle Ruckus, the White
The portrayal of constant turmoil in these television programs worsens the challenges faced by white lower-class communities. Poor healthcare access, underfunded schools, and minimal employment options already pose serious hurdles (Waters, 2016). When trash TV depicts these neighborhoods as chaotic hubs of never-ending drama, it shifts public sympathy away from genuine issues, focusing instead on outrageous antics. Such depictions can undermine local leaders' efforts to secure grants, sponsor skill-building workshops, or enhance local infrastructure. Potential collaborators or donors may be reluctant to invest in areas they perceive—based on TV portrayals—as hopelessly dysfunctional (Gillespie, 2017).
Moreover, young viewers in these communities internalize the media representation, concluding that such rowdy behavior is commendable(Moore, 2019). This belief system stifles their aspirations, leading them to believe that college, stable careers, or creative pursuits are out of reach. Meanwhile, well-intentioned mentors or teachers must compete with the spectacle, which suggests that the only way to stand out is to mimic the camera-ready conflict.
Waters (2016) observes that a community’s collective self-esteem gradually erodes. First, residents see themselves mocked or exaggerated on national platforms. Then, outsiders begin to treat them as if the caricatures are accurate. This cycle of negative reinforcement can cause people to withdraw from civic life, discouraged by the notion that they are merely living into a stereotype. Instead of building supportive networks, these communities may splinter under the weight of pessimistic assumptions.
The damage doesn’t always manifest in physical form; sometimes, it’s deeply psychological. Many individuals are pushed into isolation or driven deeper into destructive coping strategies (Turner, 2020). In a sense, trash television doesn’t just degrade the image of lower-class white communities—it destroys their hope, leaving them feeling that the narrative is already written and their role is merely to fulfill the drama people expect to see.
Spillover Effects on Other Racial and Ethnic Groups
Black Entertainment Television is the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
-MLK, The Boondocks
While these programs primarily target white lower-class subjects for sensational storylines, the toxic fallout isn’t limited to one demographic (Moore, 2019). Other racial and ethnic groups adopt skewed ideas of “white” culture based on the worst examples of on-screen behavior. Instead of understanding the breadth of experiences within rural or working-class white communities, viewers often assume that the people portrayed on trash television are representative of the entire demographic (Turner, 2020). Such misconceptions breed ignorance and bias—some viewers may develop a sense of cultural superiority. In contrast, others absorb the belief that a large portion of white society behaves in a perpetually chaotic manner.
Furthermore, the same exploitative frameworks appear in shows about Black, Latino, or other minority communities, using similar tactics to highlight conflict and tension for the sake of ratings (Waters, 2016). Producers and networks emboldened by strong viewership recycle the same formula: find individuals willing to perform intense arguments, weave in sensational music or editing, and package the outcome as “must-see” TV. Gillespie (2017) argues that this approach reduces people’s diverse life experiences to shallow entertainment and sows distrust and misunderstanding among different groups. The more these caricatures spread, the more each community learns to assume the worst about the other.
Even internationally, the global reach of certain American shows can distort perceptions of the United States. International audiences, unfamiliar with the nuances of American regional identities, sometimes conclude that such dysfunction is common everywhere (Moore, 2019). This damages cross-cultural dialogue, making it harder for international visitors or students to arrive with an open mind. Instead, they expect drama and aggression, sometimes leading to tension in workplaces or educational settings.
Ultimately, these spillover effects highlight how trash television’s damaging impact travels far beyond the initial group it purports to depict (Turner, 2020). By promoting a steady diet of rage-fueled scenes, producers contribute to a polarized environment where each demographic is pitted against the others based on cheap stereotypes instead of genuine understanding.
Commercial Exploitation of Community Issues
Michael Jackson is not a genre of music.
-MLK, The Boondocks
Networks know that drama sells. Creating low-cost sets, wrangling guests willing to fight or spill secrets, and editing for maximum shock factor all feed into a lucrative business model (Gillespie, 2017). Advertisers pay for slots during these programs precisely because they draw sizable audiences—often from different socio-economic backgrounds eager to watch the spectacle unfold (Moore, 2019). The result is a self-perpetuating cycle: as long as the ratings remain high, there is little incentive to shift towards more respectful or nuanced storytelling.
Producers may argue that they merely hold up a mirror to society, yet the artificial nature of staged conflicts and selective editing complicates this claim (Waters, 2016). Show participants are often manipulated by promises of quick cash, fleeting fame, or help with legal troubles. In exchange, they serve up sensational narratives that overshadow the real struggles—like finding stable work or dealing with mental health issues—that plague many lower-class white communities.
Even if public criticism surfaces, networks can pivot by introducing a “redemption” arc. After showcasing meltdown after meltdown, some programs feature a “feel-good” episode to appease critics, only to return to the same exploitative formula later (Turner, 2020). This commercial pattern directly opposes any sincere effort at community uplift. For every one positive turn, there may be dozens of damaging storylines that keep the focus on chaos.
As a result, any meaningful conversation about poverty, educational opportunities, or healthcare gaps within the white lower class gets drowned out by sensational drama. Potential reforms or charitable interventions lose visibility because they lack the shock value these programs thrive on (Gillespie, 2017). By profiting from human vulnerability and conflict, Trash television capitalizes on hardships and reduces the likelihood that systemic issues will receive the thoughtful attention they deserve.
We Need to Clean Up the White Trash
Is this it? Is this what our ancestors struggled and strived for? They had a dream, once. That their children and their children’s children would have a life free from oppression. So they might determine their own destinies. Yet 300 years later, what would they find, but a bunch of good-for-nothing, vulgar, and shiftless wiggers.
Trash television, though often dismissed as harmless fun, has had a corrosive effect on the white lower class—amplifying the worst traits within already struggling communities, profiting from their humiliation, and re-broadcasting it as national entertainment (Moore, 2019). The damage isn’t contained to this demographic alone. Other races and ethnicities internalize skewed messages about “white trash” culture, and the media’s exploitative methods inevitably spill into portrayals of other marginalized groups (Turner, 2020). This cycle of sensationalism fuels sociopathy normalizes destructive behavior and distracts from the real challenges facing the lower class in America.
While we embrace these shows without assailing their broader social repercussions, we entrench harmful stereotypes and erode potential avenues for genuine support (Waters, 2016). While viewers bear some responsibility for their viewing choices, the networks and producers behind trash television remain key architects of this cultural slide. The distortion will persist until they prioritize ethical storytelling and balanced portrayals, leaving many communities stuck in negative media feedback. Perhaps the most pressing question is whether audiences and industry stakeholders alike can unite in calling for more respectful content that inspires growth rather than glamorizing conflict (Gillespie, 2017).
Do we accept the carnivalesque spectacle of lower-class humiliation as just another ratings bonanza, or will we demand a shift toward content that treats people’s lives—even at their most challenging—with dignity?
References
Gillespie, E. (2017). Understanding media influence in the 21st century. Journal of Cultural Studies, 45(2), 120–139.
Moore, T. (2019). Representations of white poverty in reality television. Journal of Media, 12(3), 88–102.
Turner, J. (2020). The cost of conflict-based entertainment: Ethical considerations in modern broadcasting. Media & Ethics Review, 34(1), 55–70.
Waters, R. (2016). The reality of reality TV: Production values and viewer reception. Television Quarterly, 28(4), 17–29.
Like Neil Postman said decades ago: Amusing Ourselves To Death. Postman's book by that tile, online for free: https://ia600101.us.archive.org/27/items/Various_PDFs/NeilPostman-AmusingOurselvesToDeath.pdf
You are on to something. The entire phenomenon of television deserves more discussion. In many ways it's the template for the shallowing of the American mind, and also the replacement of community values with what Harlan Ellison referred to as The Glass Teat. Ellison wrote two excellent books of social commentary under that title; it's a window into 1960s-early 1970s television--and also the way that show producers dumbed down scripts for mass consumption by the American public. Harlan was of course a highly regarded science fiction author and scriptwriter; some of his most scathing observations have to do with the way that television industry mentalities eviscerated his work. His bitterness is palpable (and also often quite funny, once he gets to wielding the rapier of his wit.) It's been a while since I read the book Robert Putnam's book Bowling Alone, and I don't recall exactly what he said about television. But it's something that struck me recently, when I was recalling the abysmal PTA participation in my suburban junior high school (which eventually dwindled to two sets of parents, one of them mine; both military families, neither of them local.) And I was thinking on what it was that all the other parents were almost certainly doing instead: they were watching prime time television series. United in their living rooms and dens, linked nationwide as the viewing audience for the top-rated prime time shows of one of the 3-4 commercial broadcast networks-ABC/NBC/CBS, with Metromedia--which later became Fox, iirc--a distant fourth. (There was also PBS, but i didn't know anyone who watched it, including my parents. "Educational TV", you know. And therefore suspect, as too highbrow. Bo-ring. A reputation that would remain, until Sesame Street blew up in the early 1970s.)
Flash forward to the 1980s--and I noticed something: almost everyone I knew, in my generation, my parents generation, and the upcoming cohort that was eventually tagged as "Generation X" had stopped reading. Those who did read, read novels. And I recalled learning about the Muckraking Journalists of the late 1890s and early 1900s in my high school history and civics class, and how works like The Octopus and The Jungle had been widely read by Americans to the point where they sparked an outcry for reform of corporate trusts and food and drug regulations. Those investigations had real political impacts. I learned about that history in the early 1970s--which also happened to be a time of considerable nonfiction history and investigative journalism. The 1960s and 1970s youth culture was the last time I noticed nonfiction books having any serious impact in popular culture and politics--and, strangely enough, most of that impact was within the generation then in high school and college--the"hippie counterculture", not the parental generation. I remember regional libraries staying open until 10pm. But by the late 1970s, very few people were reading serious nonfiction.
By the 1980s, television had made quantum leaps in appeal to young audiences. The 1960s and 1970s had primarily been a Music Radio generation--and, probably not coincidentally, an amazingly rich, multicultural, multigenre era of excellence.And then Radio was corporatized and commercialized practically beyond recognition. The prevailing sentiment of the 1980s was "radio sucks", for anyone who had lived through the era when George Benson and Fleetwood Mac could bracket Stevie Wonder. But television--formerly that thing we used to leave on in the corner with the sound off. as incidental ambience--was just beginning to gain unprecedented momentum. The ads were less corny, and more attuned to Young Consumers. MTV replaced the Radio. The Reagan era: Miami Vice, with narcs in Armani suits. Dallas, Dynasty, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. And that's the template that's been built on, ever since. What happened to books, to investigative journalism, social criticism, natural history? There was plenty of it. The 1980s and 1990s was a peak era for it: James Mills. Peter Dale Scott. Charles Bowden. Roger Morris. Stanley Crouch. Barry Lopez. Neil Postman. Clarence Lusane. Lewis Lapham. Chrstopher Lasch. Mike Davis. The problem is that hardly anyone in the general American public was reading it. Americans are still not reading, at least not nonfiction and history. It's worth noting that this is the era when Critical Theory began shifting from the English Lit and Philosophy departments to the social disciplines in academia--so students in history and civics classes were assigned novels, memoirs, mythology, polemic, didactic poetry, and above all abstracted postmodern social criticism. Not the old-fashioned thick description and factually detailed insights of Neil Postman or Christopher Lasch. Even less the outright disturbing historical and economic observations of researchers like Kevin Phillips, Roger Morris, and Charles Bowden.
I admit, part of this screed is a whine--because I did read books by the authors I mentioned; I read all of those authors. And after all these years--ever since Americans stopped reading--I still got nobody to talk to about them. But my deeper point is that seriously researched nonfiction history books used to lead to policy changes in Washington, back in the era of Upton Sinclair and Ida Tarbell and Lincoln Steffens. And the last book I can think of that had a reform impact was Rachel Carson's Silent Spring--since unjustly maligned by industry lobbyists with smears that she never wrote (like claims that her work led to the banning of DDT spraying for mosquitoes; Carson didn't even oppose using DDT for that purpose. What she opposed was ag chemical salespeople and lobbyists shilling for pesticides the way Purdue sold Oxycontin, for ridiculous campaigns like spraying forests for gypsy moths and trying to eradicate fire ants, which despite being invasive and annoying are not crop pests.) Instead of serious investigations, the bulk of nonfiction books that tackle issues with political implications are written--or more accurately ghostwritten--by Television Personalities. And even those books owe their placement on NY Times nonfiction bestseller lists to mass purchases by the axe-grinding partisan outfits that got the Celebrity Journos their publishing contracts. One of my most eye-opening disillusionments was back in the1990s, learning that Top 10 nonfiction bestsellers often sold fewer than 40,000 copies. Naive me, I had thought it would be more like a million copies sold.
One final observation before I'm out: also back in the late 1990s, I remember listening to a forum on the dawn of the digital era and microminaturized camera technology: someone was pointing out that "the cameras are coming", and auguring an era of ubiquitous surveillance and spying. And someone else observed that "the authorities don't need to spy on everyone. They already know where most everyone is, and what they're doing--they're watching TV." Pick up on those implications. Historic and otherwise.