post-truth
Relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief
Added 2016 to the OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY

I never watched The Apprentice, with or without Donald Trump. Nor did I watch any other so-called 'reality TV show.' Actually, that's not entirely true — I watched Candid Camera when I was a child on our family 12-inch black-and-white television. I just didn't know it was a reality TV show, the term having not yet been invented. But I hadn't seen any until recently, apart from the odd peep at Britain's Got Talent or The X Factor when friends sent links to YouTube segments of Susan Boyle or other eye-popping performances I couldn't stop myself from watching. With so little experience of the phenomenon why do I now feel I'm living in a reality TV show? And with little prospect of ever escaping.

The 'reality' format burgeoned in the 1980s when the Writers Guild of America went on strike and producers were desperate for material that required no writers. Shows were developed that used situations rather then scripts — for example, random strangers were made to live together and filmed relentlessly no matter what happened. Any developments in this scenario and others like it were left almost totally to chance — just like life. Throw in 'real' people instead of actors saying whatever came into their heads and Bingo! producers had cheap shows that ordinary people could relate to and were, most importantly, thrillingly unpredictable. Newly developed digital cameras and personal computer software allowed for no-fuss instant editing, which ensured that cheaply produced 'reality' programmes soon enjoyed worldwide proliferation.

I decided to check out some past and present shows. I wasn't surprised to find that they depended on the age-old dramatic devices of tragedy and comedy. But so has TV drama since the early days of soaps, like Coronation Street, Crossroads, and Emmerdale. So what makes reality TV different — and hypnotically addictive? Perhaps the greatest attraction of reality TV is its no-holds-barred style. It seems that the more outrageous, the more profane, and the more shocking the show, the more popular it is. It's all about triggering strong reactions — shock, horror, or mindless empathy. Rarely do the shows concern themselves with whether the reasons are correct, legitimate, or true. Does anybody take time to analyse Simon Cowell's callous criticism of a contestant? Is any problem of the privileged in Made In Chelsea ever debated rationally? Not likely. All we want are tears and jeers, tantrums and break ups. Whether any of it is right or justified is almost irrelevant. It's the drug of heightened emotion in reaction to extreme expressions of tension and anxiety that we've become addicted to.

Here's the thing, and why I feel as if I'm living in a reality TV show: the ethos of reality television seems to have seeped into public political discourse and completely taken over. I'm not sure how quickly this happened. All I know is that when I researched the politics of fifty years ago for my recent novel — specifically Enoch Powell and his Rivers of Blood speech — it was patently obvious that Powell's no-holds-barred oratory style designed to engender extreme reaction would have been run of the mill today. But in 1968, when he gave the speech, he was castigated and shunned by friends and colleagues as well as opponents and enemies for fomenting hatred and, more importantly, for misrepresenting the facts. His speech meant the end of any hope Powell held for a meaningful position of power in politics. He was sidelined and branded as an unprincipled liar. Powell tried to justify his speech by saying, "... if there was something the majority of the population wanted to hear said, and if their representatives would not say it for them, they’d find a different and much less pleasant person to say it instead." The implication being it was better he speak than someone less responsible. Which was disingenuous of him since he didn't merely say in his speech what he believed the majority wanted to hear but did it in a style specifically designed to evoke an extreme reaction and which implicitly gave permission to those so inclined for expressions of hatred and xenophobia. As a result there were thousands who reacted to his words with the heightened emotions of resentment and prejudice — as he knew there would be. What he didn't count on was the morality of the political machine in Britain at the time, which immediately saw the dangers of his irresponsible diatribe and shut him down.

Powell's rhetorical style of extreme language peppered with dubious or distorted 'facts' would have been right at home on The Apprentice or in today's political milieu. After all, there's little difference between the two. Political discourse — and not just by Donald Trump, but numerous so-called politicians such as Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson — seems to have taken on all the unpleasant attributes of the reality TV format. Here's what Barack Obama said recently in a New Yorker article: "Trump understands the new ecosystem, in which facts and truth don’t matter. You attract attention, rouse emotions, and then move on."

Sounds to me like a terrific pitch for a new reality TV show.

The Speech