Verity Johnson: Why reality TV indulges our insecurities

Art Green from the TV show The Bachelor. Photo / Supplied

There are three possibilities for a midnight phone call. One, it's a booty call. Two, it's a drunk call. Three, it's someone who is in a lot of trouble. So when I woke up in the middle of last Tuesday night, my phone ringing so frantically it was beating against the desk, and saw my girlfriend's name, I was worried.

She wouldn't drink on a Tuesday, and I couldn't help with her sexual frustration, so this must be serious.

"Mmarggghh! Wassup youokayyeah!?" I gurgled.

"Vee, guess what?" She was breathless.

"What!?" I said, reaching for my sneakers, imagining a gas explosion, psychotic ex-boyfriends and flesh-eating aliens ... "The Bachelor is holding auditions! Should I do it?"

Even if I'd been fully conscious when we'd had the conversation, I'd have dismissed the idea. I just don't like the principle of The Bachelor. It's not the multiple women competing for one man, the stilted dialogue or the conveniently placed jewellery.

It's just that I feel The Bachelor, and most reality television, encourages us to indulge our inner insecurity. And we all know that inner insecurity make us outer bitches.

Yes, some people watch the show because they genuinely enjoy it and want to see who finds love. But a lot of people, like me, watch it with a healthy degree of superiority. We get to see a bunch of unnaturally attractive people enjoying an unnaturally glamorous lifestyle but saying unnaturally silly things.

They're probably edited to maximise their drama and minimise their intelligence. Or they may not be particularly bright cookies to begin with. But either way, the show presents contestants in a vacuous way.

This allows us to feel superior. In casual conversation you can say, "Pfft, I'd never date Art." Or if the girls were scrapping over some offhand comment, we can sniff, "God, how can you be that superficial?" Of course, unhampered by any personal connection, we feel no need to be nice, especially as they've seemingly opened themselves up to criticism by being on TV. So it becomes socially acceptable, and even rather fun, to snipe about them.

And it's not just a chance to be a smart arse. We rip apart dumb, pretty people with a great deal of relieved enthusiasm. Why? We don't like people who are too perfect.

If you're very smart and successful, we'd prefer it if you looked like a barge. If you are incredibly beautiful, we'd like it if you had the intelligence of a mushroom. We like to know that if people are talented in one area, then they lack it in another. It stops them from being too threatening.

Meeting people who are perfect (ahem, Amal Clooney) is incredibly intimidating. I still have a violent internal battle over Lorde: I want to not like her for being so cool, smart, hot and wildly successful but her music is just too incredible. And that's why we often let out a smug sigh when one of those perfect people begins to unravel. It proves our theory right - no one can be talented in every way.

Who else was just a little bit smug when it turned out that the smart, hot, and successful Nigella Lawson had a sneaky coke habit?

But the whole phenomenon is rooted in insecurity. I want them to fail only so I feel less ashamed of my dullness. If they have a flaw, then I have something over them. Yeah, The Bachelor girls may be hot - but I'm smarter. Yeah, they may be glamorous, but I'm more grounded. Yeah, they may have a brand new diamond bracelet (available for $99.99 at a store near you) but I have ... well, I have a waterproof gym wristband.

And that's a horrible habit to indulge. Not only is it cruel, it makes me a crueller person the more I allow it. I shouldn't be permitting this toxic insecurity. I should be ignoring it until it starves to death. So that's why I don't like watching shows like The Bachelor. Reality TV may not be known for its ability to inspire critical reflection, but I've realised that the more I watch, a worse person I become.

What did I tell my friend then? Well, it was 1am, she wouldn't be able to sleep until we'd resolved this heavy matter of destiny, and I had deep passionate opinions on the matter.

So I took a deep breath ... hung up and went back to sleep.