I found out this week that at least one person agrees with me about this show.
In April 2005, I posted at the TranslucentBeauty forum my dislike for the television show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I also wrote a follow-up post on the subject, and another post on a EMHE copycat, Renovate My Family.
The gist of my comments were that I consider EMHE a socially unethical show, despite the show’s desire to portray itself, and its cast-members, as altruistic super-heroes, building needy people homes out of the goodness of their hearts. Considering that the main product that television companies sell is an audience, rather than a television show, my criticism centrally rested upon my own assumption, a good assumption if I do say so myself, that families chosen to receive new homes are, at least in part (I would think a large part, but I’m pretty cynical), on how large an audience their story will attract for their advertisers. In this vein, I asked whether the ends justified the means, and as with all questions of this nature, I answered that it depends on which ends and which means. If the ends are that a needy family gets a new house, and the means are a television network provides them with one, then maybe I could answer in the affirmative. However, I don’t think it is so simple. I think that the ends can very well be that advertisers make a lot of money through the means of exploiting the plight of needy families. While a simple explanation of my critique, it will do for now. For a fuller explanation, see the above links.
In those threads, some of my closest friends said that I was being incredibly unfair to the do-gooders over at EMHE. So, I decided to post my thoughts over at “Arts and Faith,” to see with the considerably larger community over there thought. I wasn’t impressed with the responses that came in right away. I received a particularly cheesy response that stated:
This is my response to those who criticize EMHE for being anything less than altruistic:
They may see the good you do as self serving. Continue to do good.
They may see your generosity as grandstanding. Continue to be generous.
They may see your warm and caring nature as a weakness. Continue to be warm and caring.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It never was between you and them anyway.
This reply in particular turned me off to the forums there, and I never really went back.
That was a mistake, because apparently the discussion continued. Not a particularly popular discussion mind you, but I missed out on a few good posts. Particularly, a reply from user “kebbie,” who points out that she wrote an article about this very subject for catapult magazine, “Reality Servanthood.” A sample:
Home Edition is the harbinger of a new television genre I would call “pornographic altruism.”
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The show’s qualities of unabashed gawking (“Oh, my God, that poor cancer patient!”) alongside charitable gestures (“But at least now she has a grand piano signed by Elton John!”) are a deadly combination—one that gives us, the viewers, the emotional pay-off of good works without the actual, imperfect experience. Rather than developing true compassion, it provides us with a cheap and inauthentic substitute: sentimentality.
In the Home Edition universe, I am permitted to think that I am a good person for choosing this show and crying at the lavish displays of charity. Every single episode, I get a huge lump in my throat which spontaneously erupts into tears during the big reveal of the new house. I experience another spasm of emotions when Pennington tells the family that a Generous Corporate Benefactor has paid their mortgage or donated a full scholarship so their daughter can fulfill her dream of going to design school. I can’t stop myself from crying. My guess is that you can’t, either. What wonderful people! I think of the Home Edition crew as I blow my nose into my fiance’s t-shirt sleeve. What a marvelous corporation! I exclaim of Sears, the show’s main corporate sponsor. They really care about people!
I hope I don’t sound cynical when I say this, but I’m not sure this is such a positive response. Sure, we shed tears when we’re genuinely happy, moved, or overwhelmed. But we can also be manipulated, and I suspect that’s what happening when Home Edition tugs at our heartstrings and sends us into ecstatic paroxysms of benevolence. Let’s face it, a giant corporation that donates scads of money and products—thus ensuring that their logo is plastered on every square inch of the show’s set, plus its intermittent commercials—probably has ulterior motives. And when we, the audience, exclaim over their generosity and goodness at every turn, they’ve got us exactly where they want us: emotionally vulnerable, and ready to shop. (Which brings us to another question about Home Edition’s values: is gratuitous consumerist excess, the idea that a schmancy house will make you happy, really the equivalent of compassionate, sacrificial servanthood? We don’t have time to get into that here.)
This kind of sentimentality is the enemy of compassion: it allows to feel altruistic without actually being altruistic. Of course, we know that watching a television show about serving the poor is not actually the same thing as serving the poor—yet Home Edition is designed to make us, the audience, feel like we’ve done something productive for society by choosing it over a blatantly trashy program. Giving into this impulse is perhaps even more contemptible than devotedly watching, say, Desperate Housewives (which, personally, I admire for its critique of the American exurban dream, a little dose of which Home Edition could certainly use).
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I would add to that last paragraph, that it is designed to make us feel good for watching this show over others, and this itself is designed to, and does, make the show/network/advertisers, a load of cash. Now, there’s nothing wrong with making a load of cash. My point is that I question the altruism displayed when it is used as a front to make a staggering profit…especially while exploiting the stories of the down and out.
Pornographic Altruism. What a fantastic phrase for it.
And I still can’t stand watching that show.
Tags: Extreme Makeover Home Edition, media, television, reality television, altruism


