Falling out with Take Me Out

Out of all the days in a week, Sunday morning holds the greatest potential for one to sink into those weekly rituals that bring unexplained comfort, and enjoy the conclusion of another week. Perhaps it’s a leafy walk fuelled by the thought of a bacon sandwich at the finish line. Maybe it’s a Sunday newspaper read between bites of an unhealthier variant of the week’s breakfasts.

For the past few Sunday mornings I’ve bestowed the privilege of the top slot to Take Me Out. Or at least, the first five minutes of it, after which my brain thinks ‘hey, I’ve seen these idiots in this exact scenario with these very same teeth-clenchingly bad chat-up lines before.’

It inevitably stays on in the background while I flit between reading in an attempt to fill the self-imposed numb void in my brain, and making unattractive snorting noises to complement Paddy McGuiness’ exasperations over a female contestant’s pointless metaphor about their potential suitor being a ‘puppy’, when she wants a ‘dog’. I always thought, as a sex, we preferred puppies, but whatever.

The women, however, are relatively harmless compared to the format of the show. For those who have better things to do on Saturday nights, this consists of a row of women who turn off their lights if they don’t like the man in question. At the end of the show, the remaining women are subject to the contestant running up and down, looking at them, and if they deem the woman to be unattractive, turning off their light with an accompanying loud noise.

Why am I complaining about this after 3,000 previous series of the same format? I think because I expected it to have changed by now, or been complained about more. I thought it couldn’t be that bad if no one else seemed to have a problem with it. I blame the Bystander Effect.

But every weekend, the same scene unravels. A man runs past a row of women and extinguishes the hopeful lights in front of the ones he deems not good enough based on a quick judgement of their face.

I see articles all the time about everyday sexism, sexism in the workplace, on panel shows, in the world of publishing. And then there are the articles on why women should age gracefully, and isn’t it a shame that recent statistics say that we accounted for 90% of cosmetic surgery last year?

The people who are allowed to decide what entertains us through the television have too much power, and they are decelerating societal improvements. Channel 5’s The Big Benefits Row was completely overshadowed by Katie Hopkins, who was plonked there to keep our tiny minds ‘entertained’.

Many of our improvements in equality could be completely undone by a child watching Take Me Out and assuming the sort of behaviour displayed is acceptable. In the real world it isn’t okay for a man to publicly disregard a women solely based on her appearance. Nor should it affect us if he does. Women shouldn’t be compared to the appearance of other women, pitted against each other for a man’s affections and be publicly rejected (minus the lights and sound effects).

But the women get to turn off their lights if they don’t like the man, too, I hear you say. This is true. Except the absolute absurd and ridiculous reasons they conjure up for not liking a contestant – from a dislike in his socks to his reminding them of a family member/former lover – proves that even if they think it, they very rarely admit to their rejection being based upon a dislike of an inherent physical feature.

There’s little doubt the women on Take Me Out aren’t briefed beforehand not to take these things personally. But if I get a little offended watching a man look at a women and think ‘nah’ because of the size of her nose or hairstyle, then I can’t help but think it must get to them, too.