How TikTok killed reality TV.

I was talking to a friend about Vanderpump Rules recently — a likely thing for me to be doing at given moment, quite frankly. The show's indefinite hiatus had just been announced at the time, and if you watched the Season 11 finale, you'll know that even though they *might* revive the show somewhere down the track, it felt like a series finale.

As we talked, I said that I didn't think there would ever be another show like Vanderpump Rules. When it premiered in 2013, it was lightning in a bottle. But over the years, viewers watched it evolve into a more produced, more curated, and less authentic version of itself. 

And while it's inevitable that its creators at Bravo will one day try to recreate the magic that the original seasons delivered, they've fighting against a media landscape that has shifted dramatically over the past decade. 

Friendship groups full of diabolical, fame-seeking individuals still exist, of course. But reality TV as we once knew it is on the out.

TikTok is the new reality TV.

This shift towards social media for our *tea* has been bubbling up for a while now.

Every so often, a TikTok drama will go viral enough that it will make its way off the app and get picked up by mainstream media — Mikayla Nogueira's "Lashgate" scandal of 2023 is a good example. More recently, TikTok has become the place to be if you're the kind of person who craves the raw, unfiltered chaos that reality television used to deliver. 

Now, as reality television continues to become more produced and curated than ever before — both by the show's producers and the image-conscious participants who are signing on with future brand deals in mind — women are turning to TikTok to tell their stories, their way.

This new era of TikTok drama perhaps kicked off in March 2024, when creator Reesa Teesa went mega-viral with her 50+ part series Who TF Did I Marry?, in which she detailed her experience of meeting, marrying, and divorcing a man who she claimed was a "pathological liar". As her story began to go viral, more and more people tuned in to watch as she dropped each new part, with the entire series' runtime totalling more than eight hours of content.

Watch: Brooke Schofield discusses her relationship with Clinton Kane. Story continues below.

In July 2024, Cancelled podcast co-host and influencer Brooke Schofield went also viral for posting a 14-part TikTok series (also titled Who TF Did I Marry?, in homage to Reesa Teesa's series), which detailed her relationship with musician Clinton Kane. At the same time, TikTok creator Madeline Argy was detailing the demise of her own relationship with rapper Central Cee to her millions of followers.

Each of these creators was pulling in millions of viewers — far more than the average reality TV show sees these days. Part one of Reesa Teesa's series racked up 41.3 million views (though of the 50+ part series, most of the videos sat between the five and 10 million view mark). For Schofield, the first part of her series is sitting on 11.7 million views, and the lowest performing video in her series has 4.9 million views. Oh, and Argy's four-part series? Yeah, each of those videos has more than 40 million views, with the highest-performing sitting at 71.7 million views.

While it's difficult and... possibly somewhat unfair to compare linear TV numbers to TikTok views — they're different formats, after all, and many reality fans prefer to watch the show at their leisure on catch up, rather than live — a quick look at reality TV numbers still shows just how huge the difference is.

The last season of The Bachelors Australia debuted to a metro audience of just 224,000, and reached a total audience of 319,000. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Network 10 confirmed that the show had been cancelled in May 2024. 

The highest performing episode of season 11 of Vanderpump Rules (the premiere, for those wondering) pulled in 1.38 million live viewers (though again, it's hard to say how many people are tuning in on streaming platforms around the world). Either way, it's a far cry from the tens of millions of views that creators are racking up on TikTok.

Why the shift?

Once upon a time, not too long ago, women (and men) would apply for reality TV. 

Some did it for the "right reasons" (finding love and not making friends were high on many agendas).

Others understood that reality TV was a medium that would likely boost their public profile and help them skyrocket their social media accounts — which, in the best case scenario, would lead to more television opportunities, brand deals and sponsored content.

No judgement here — get your money, folks.

If you've been watching reality TV over the past five years, though, you may have noticed a shift. Rather than reality shows making names out of beautiful civilians with regular lives, those reality shows are now more inclined to cast established social media creators. As fewer people tune into traditional television, casting directors for these shows seem to be hoping that by locking in influencers, their thousands — sometimes millions — of social media followers will tune in and boost ratings.

More and more, these shows are needing influencers more than those influencers need anything linear television has to offer. And more and more, the influencers don't want it. Because there is, of course, a downside to signing on for a reality TV show. By opting in, you're also putting your life in the hands of the show's editors, who could (and would) make you fit their narrative, whatever that may be.

In 2024, it's fairly common knowledge that signing up for reality television means putting yourself at risk of getting a "bad edit". That best-case scenario, with the heightened social media following and brand deals? That might sound pretty great. But the worst-case scenario can lead to extreme online bullying and other unpleasant (to say the least) real-life consequences.

Controlling the narrative.

Now, with the popularity of video content and social media platforms like TikTok, the question around whether to partake in reality TV or not has become: Is it worth it?

For some, maybe reality TV still is worth the potential downsides. If playing Survivor is your dream, you might be willing to cop a rough edit. But if your dream is to become a public figure for, well, fame's sake, there's a risk that comes with letting a handful of editors who don't have your best interests at heart take control of your story.

This is why I don't think there will ever be another Vanderpump Rules, or anything like it. If your goal is to grow a following based on your personality, your stories, your 'truth', why would you risk being edited to fit a reality show's narrative, when TikTok offers you that same opportunity for exposure with all the power and control to curate your public identity?

On TikTok, you're in the driver's seat. It's your life, your stories, told entirely your way. You get final say over the edit. You get to decide what to share and what not to share. Until you're famous, you don't have to answer to anyone. 

Of course, like all things, there's a downside. By choosing the path of TikTok influencer over reality star, there's no one for the influencer to blame if — let's be real, when — they get caught up in a scandal. While having complete control over the content means you can't be the victim of a bad edit, it also means that the audience will expect the creator to address any missteps publicly, directly and quickly. And if they don't adequately address the issue, the backlash will be swift and vicious — just look at the public response to any of YouTube's worst apology videos.

But that's the TikTok creator's problem. For us as viewers? It's just more drama to consume.

Feature Image: TikTok/brookeschofield1.