Last night, the new year saw a new crop of screaming, swooning female hopefuls on “The Bachelor,” which began its 18th season on ABC. The premise of “The Bachelor” and its sister show, “The Bachelorette,” represents something both modern and weirdly primal: Cameras, boom mics and Chris Harrison follow a group of 20-somethings as they compete fiercely for the affection of a mate — presumably so the winner and said mate may become engaged and begin a life together.
Each season is purported to be “the most dramatic yet,” “historical” and “like nothing viewers have seen before on ‘The Bachelor.’” Over its 18-season run, the show has operated along a formula that relies on tired, gendered stereotypes. When seasons like this one center on a group of women vying for one man’s affection, these gendered stereotypes become even clearer: The women are continually portrayed as hysterically emotional, hell-bent on procuring a husband. The female contestants are constantly pitted against one another, and phrases such as “I’m not here to make friends,” and “The claws are starting to come out,” are tossed about frequently.
The male contestants on “The Bachelorette” are much luckier: They’re rewarded for letting vulnerability shine through their masculine exteriors. The ones who tend to win have a level of sensitivity normally found only on the pages of Nicholas Sparks novels. Indeed, the male “Bachelorette” winners are rewarded for balancing their masculine and feminine sides for the benefit of viewers, while the women on “The Bachelor” seem to display only exaggerated acts of femininity: They cry at the drop of a hat, they become immediately emotionally invested in the man they’ve only just met, they engage in screaming fights with each other, and they spend hours preening before group dates.
We can only hope that the network’s casting choices and editing are to blame for the way women are portrayed on “The Bachelor.” Season after season, the majority of them have vague, ubiquitously feminine careers: hair stylists, makeup artists, yoga instructors, models, dancers, “entrepreneurs” and “consultants.” They, as Jezebel pointed out, seem to subsist solely on fruit, nuts and Diet Coke. Occasionally, women with personality and apparent intellect are featured on the show: lawyers, oil-field account managers, girls who cite “Atlas Shrugged” as their favorite book and one, this season, who broke the fruit-and-nut loving mold by naming Flamin’ Hot Cheetos as her favorite snack.
However, those women are eventually weeded out, and women of color rarely make it to the final rounds. No, the majority of “The Bachelor” winners are thin, white and hopelessly two-dimensional — or they appear to be.
While we would never dream of suggesting ABC pull “The Bachelor” forever — it is, after all, the guilty pleasure of all guilty pleasures — it’s time the network considered hiring new producers. Female contestants, just like the male contestants, should be afforded the same amount of depth and development.
A version of this editorial ran on page 6 on 1/7/2014 under the headline "No Rose for You: ABC, it’s time to revamp ‘The Bachelor’"
