After everything that’s happened, why are we laughing about a Love Island contestant’s teeth?

As viewers, we bear some responsibility in the wellbeing of those who appear on these programmes. By picking apart someone’s appearance for laughs, we’re willing reality shows to do their worst

We’re in the middle of the infamous Love Island season, and social media is spewing many a toxic observation about this year’s contestants. But since the controversy surrounding the previous series’, as well as the recent tragedy surrounding The Jeremy Kyle Show, whose responsibility is it to safeguard viewers and contestants alike? And has the reality show had its day?

As someone who spends far too much time on Twitter, I’m used to encountering highly toxic comments. But last night, I was shocked to see not only tweets, but also entire media articles dedicated to one Love Islander’s teeth.

Now I’m not claiming the moral high ground (last year I was, embarrassingly, constantly tuned into the goings on of the villa) but I haven’t seen a single episode this year. It could be that the person in question is a bit of an arse. On the other hand, he could be a genuinely nice bloke. I’ve really no idea. But I know one thing, I doubt his teeth have got much to do with any of it.

I looked at the photos of said contestant and couldn’t quite understand the issue. And, almost immediately, the familiar feelings of being aesthetically below par re-surfaced.

As a teenager, and right through to, well, very recently, to be honest, I have had a serious obsession with not looking attractive enough. I’ve been so thoroughly distracted about my teeth being ugly and my jaw being too short that I have spent many, many hours in internet cafes googling patient accounts and costs associated with jaw surgery, when I should have been having a blast on my travels around New Zealand.

Yes, I was seriously considering having my jaw broken in the name of perfection.

It sounds ridiculous, but it plagued my mind for many years.

Finally, I’ve just about grown to accept my face as it is. But seeing the venom spouted online about someone’s slightly imperfect smile has made me wonder which came first. Did reality TV create monsters of us all, or did our own prejudices create a monstrous form of reality TV?

I recently read a piece in the Guardian about how the content of TV programmes and films is being heavily influenced by how we use social media. Are movie scenes turned into viral gifs the ultimate aim for example? And are reality TV producers willing contestants to come up with the perfect catchphrase? You have to wonder if last year’s Love Island inhabitant, Georgia, was actively encouraged to repeat the famous “I’m loyal, babe” phrase as much as she possibly could. It’s great content after all.

TV producers have a huge responsibility for what reaches viewers and what we decide to focus our gossip on. They also have a huge responsibility for their contestants’ wellbeing – as we’ve seen with the Jeremy Kyle tragedy which I recently wrote about.

But in addition to that, shouldn’t we, as viewers, also consider the fact that the people we are watching on television are exactly that. People. Human beings. By all means call someone out for being a love rat or a cheat. Call someone out for gaslighting. But for their teeth? Really?

We could argue that reality TV is pushing this on us. That it’s influencing our behaviour. And to some degree it is. But I’d argue that it’s not all reality TV shows. If you consider what the show is trying to achieve in the first place, you can pretty much predict whether it’s going to be a healthy platform for participants, and a healthy programme for viewers to watch.

Take Naked Beach, for example. It takes people who are not body confident, and teaches them to embrace who they are and how they look. It promotes positivity among its contestants, and will no doubt have a positive effect on viewers who may also need a confidence boost.

Love Island, however, is a wholly different beast. Has anyone ever walked into a nightclub and seen the dancefloor heaving exclusively with skinny people, with luxurious flowing locks and false lashes? It is not, in any way, representative of young people today. It creates an idea that we all need to look a certain way in order to attract a partner. And it also suggests that our entire focus in life should be on attracting a partner.

If somebody dropped the 19-year-old me into that villa, I have a horrible feeling I’d have received plenty of grief as well. I now know, looking back, that I wasn’t ugly or odd-looking. But I certainly didn’t meet the Love Island standard – and so in some ways, I imagine I would have looked like the odd one out.

So my plea to reality shows is to be more representative and to have positive goals for their contestants. There have been too many fatalities amongst the reality TV community already (one is too many!) But in the meantime, rather than suggest it’s all the fault of the producers, maybe we should shoulder some responsibility too.

We must remember that the people on the shows, and the other viewers watching who read our tweets, could well be losing bucket loads of confidence as conversations about aesthetics get nasty. The Love Island ideal is not reality. We’d all do well to remember that.