Are you one of the growing number of ‘second screen’ television viewers? For all too many of us, it seems that watching one screen just isn’t enough; modern technology and, in particular, our obsession with looking at our phones has so addled our brains that plenty of us fiddle with our mobiles while ostensibly ‘watching’ TV. Two thirds of people watching TV now do so while browsing their mobile phones, according to a study in the United States.
Being glued to our phones certainly ruins the magic of television
It’s tempting to react to this news with Olympian disdain; what has happened to people that they need two screens to keep themselves amused? But feeling smug and pious isn’t an option for me; I’m as guilty of ‘two screening’ as the next addict. The impulse to check one’s email or social feeds while watching TV, or doing almost anything else, including going to the toilet, is almost impossible to resist. Checking one’s phone feels less of a conscious impulse than a tic; it’s like lighting a cigarette or shoving down another Pringle. We know it’s bad for us but we just can’t stop.
Being glued to our phones certainly ruins the magic of television; it also deprives us of one of the pleasures of watching the box: the social element of doing so. TV, in our bright living rooms, has always been a more social medium than cinema, with its silence, darkness and focal point of concentration. ‘Are we watching this or not?’ my mother would say when a family discussion broke out. TV back then was something that brought people together; but the proliferation of screens has changed all that. Even Gogglebox participants – who are paid to pay attention – often struggle to stay absorbed in what they’re watching.
While mobile phones must take some of the blame for frying our brains in this way, there might be something else going on too; the truth is that so much TV these days is too complicated. TV shows nowadays also promise so much but fail to deliver; is it anyone wonder we’re bored of watching and end up doom scrolling instead?
TV drama – and sometimes even comedy – has become far too demanding. Tortuously involved back stories, grace notes, and all manner of twisting plots and arcs and journeys are common. It’s all a far cry from the cut-and-shut TV of old, where you could happily miss an episode and catch up without too much bother. (And which was often more intelligent and better written, albeit in a different way.)
Take Succession. I thought I was paying close attention, and, to avoid the temptation, I put my devices in the kitchen on Do Not Disturb. But still I couldn’t grasp what was going on; I kept forgetting why Tom Wambsgans was in danger of going to prison. Who was who and why did they all hate each other so much? ‘Previously on’ episode recaps can’t hope to bring you up to speed on shows this intricate.
I don’t mind being a little confused by TV shows. In fact, I’d rather be slightly puzzled than have everything iterated in excruciating detail, as long as I know I’m supposed to be intrigued. But there’s a sweet spot of complication and exposition. (And ‘light’ doesn’t have to mean dumbed down; Frasier and any number of Hollywood Golden Age rom-coms testify to that.) When TV becomes too complicated, it’s a struggle rather than a pleasure, to follow what’s going on.
TV today also fall into another trap; every TV drama or comedy (outside Channel 5, anyway) now comes with promotional trumpets proclaiming that it’s the living end. We’re told all the time that this is the TV show that you have to watch. All too often, it isn’t. Give me the light touch of an 80s ITV sitcom any day. Nobody ever tried to sell us Never The Twain or Duty Free as hugely significant. Now, even Emily In Paris is promoted with a promise that it contains the meaning of life. I suspect the reason that Friends and Suits are so popular is because you don’t need a degree in their lore to watch them.
A bit of complexity is fine. But so much TV has become too complex on its surface, and terribly thin underneath. When I started in TV in the 1990s it was a medium that was still looked down on; ‘telly’ was seen as a little vulgar, somewhat déclassé. When, thanks to the internet, the financial bottom fell out of the rest of the media, this all changed. TV started to attract higher status, higher-class people; the kind of folk who like to watch complicated ‘intelligent’ shows, and who have a fear of being seen as fluffy. Suddenly, TV scriptwriters had to be over everything in world affairs, even if you were working on a soap like Emmerdale.
Was this really ‘progress’? I’m not convinced. Some TV shows are too eager to impress their audiences rather than entertain them. It’s perhaps no wonder we’re reaching for our phones.
What’s the answer? It’s tempting to say we must make better, more gripping programmes. But perhaps, even then, our phones are just too fascinating, whatever is on the box. Outside of our living rooms, we’re just as glued to our phones as at home. Even at live sports events you’ll see spectators staring at their mobiles, barely aware of what is happening in front of them. If a football match can’t hold the attention of paying fans, then we are all surely lost.
Comments