More is Less and Less is More: How TV Streaming Fosters Disconnection

When contemplating the most transformative technologies to have shaped our world, my mind travels to many places. Undoubtedly, there are significant contenders like the lightbulb, automobiles, and the internet. Objectively, yes, those are important. But if we’re really weighing ALL the options, I’d go out there and say television belongs pretty high up on that list. I mean, after all, it gave us Glee!

Although introduced in the late 1920s, it wasn't until the mid-1950s that television became a fixture in over half of American households. Naturally, many became apprehensive about television's impact as it grew more integral in everyday life; typical with any new technology. Concerns ranged from the spread of propaganda to the decline of film and movie theaters, and a perceived disconnect from others. While these concerns were proven valid, amidst them, a new form of human connection emerged. What seemed like a tiny box displaying grainy images and the same thoughtless plotlines ultimately evolved into a facilitator of multigenerational bonding, where the kiddos and their parents could gather in one space and connect over the idyllic and ridiculous episodes of I Love Lucy and Leave It to Beaver. Unlike a film that wrapped its story up in the span of two hours, television asked viewers to keep coming back, promising to catch viewers next week to answer lingering questions and keep them updated on the lives of their favorite characters. Most importantly, to sit around a TV and watch these shows required no commonality with the audience, just a shared desire to be entertained at the same time on the same day of the same week. 

Then I was born, and as a 2003 baby, I made it just in time to experience and remember this form of shared media to a certain extent. My family would orchestrate dinners around when iCarly was on, which also inadvertently incentivized me to finish my vegetables before the episode aired. My brother and I (who had close to nothing in common) would bond over being propped up in front of Spongebob before bedtime, imitating the character's voices, and comparing one another to Patrick Star as an insult. We still use it as a connecting force to this day. It functioned as a forced activity that would recur weekly, encouraging us to carve out time amidst my parents' hectic work schedules and my brothers' and my packed extracurricular agendas. It was a time to just sit down, elbow to elbow, and synchronously laugh and share one form of entertainment. 

Fast forward to today, where the abundance of shows available for consumption seems never-ending, and the freedom to choose when to watch knows no bounds. The landscape is saturated with options from Netflix to HBO (now inexplicably rebranded as Max), from Paramount+ to Disney+. And that's just the tip of the iceberg; there's also Hulu, Peacock, Prime Video, Apple TV, and the list goes on (but let's spare you from eternal scrolling). In theory, this plethora of choices sounds great—there's something for everyone, and scheduling conflicts become a thing of the past since episodes are released all at once. However, as we've come to realize, more options don't always equate to an easier decision-making process for us or a better experience altogether.

Personally, it feels like my family and I nowadays spend more time trying to pick a movie or show to watch than actually watching the thing itself. I mean, the list of preferences and requirements for what to watch is beginning to exceed the length of War and Peace making the whole charade undesirable to begin with. Dad doesn't want to watch a musical, my brother doesn't want to watch an episode longer than thirty minutes, Mom doesn't want to watch horror, and I don't want to watch another show based on World War II. Then all of a sudden my brother forgets he told his friend he’d meet him on his game so he can't watch anything anyway which naturally turns us off from the idea as a whole and we just go our separate ways and watch what we like. So I wonder, how much easier would things be if we had no choice at all? If the only thing on was Modern Family? Would we just suck it up, face our differences, and maybe even find something in common? Would we spend more time together? 

I can only think of two recent instances of this somewhat forced engagement from entertainment: Euphoria and Succession. Every Sunday it was like the Superbowl but instead of inconsolable middle-aged men, it's liberal arts college students and repressed teenagers. If I didn't get around to seeing my friends during my busy week in classes, I could at least count on catching up with them on Euphoria Sunday where we’d maybe even sneak in a dinner before because, well, we were seeing each other anyway. Sometimes they’d even bring their friends and I’d meet some new faces, and without even knowing each other, we were able to bond over Cassie’s disloyalty, our shared distaste for Nate, and our predictions for next week's episode. I couldn't help feeling somewhat empty when the credits rolled on the last episode because now, instead of Euphoria's demand for a weekly gathering, we now had to actively make plans and find something new to connect over. Akin to Euphoria was Succession. As someone who would never seek out a series involving men in suits utilizing business jargon (which to me is equivalent to gibberish), tuning in each week was a source of excitement for me because it was an activity my roommate and I could enjoy together. Needless to say, this scheduled form of viewing is a lost art and I thank HBO Max for giving us a sliver of that nostalgic feeling of community I think we all missed. 

I think it goes without saying that as we progress in society, we sadly become more and more accustomed to fending for ourselves and therefore detached from one another; where disconnection is marketed as convenience. I labeled TV as one of the greatest innovations because of its innate ability to connect people; however, unfortunately, I am afraid we’ve lost the plot (quite literally). While I cherish the freedom to indulge in binge-watching sessions at my leisure, I can't help but wonder if this relentless pursuit of convenience has overshadowed the true essence of entertainment. Perhaps it is time we take a step away from only what we like, find a middle ground, and start finding new ways to connect with one another.