I am starting to question my relationship with binge-watching. Recently, I found myself knee-deep in the Netflix show Suits. I would hesitate to offer any kind of endorsement of the series, but I have now watched every single episode. Suits ticked a few boxes for me: it was easy to keep up with while looking at my phone; it didn’t leave me feeling emotionally drained; and there were 10 seasons, which meant that it would eat up a lot of my pre-show hanging around time.
Unfortunately, the tail began to wag the dog. What was initially meant to be a way to pass the time, became something that I was having to find time to do. It started innocently enough. I would get to the hotel after a show, and put on an episode before I went to sleep. But after one episode, Netflix said: “Don’t go to sleep yet, Romesh, there are more episodes to watch and you don’t even have to click anything.” Next thing I know, it’s 3am and I am only able to speak in brash American legal threats.
Eventually, I was cramming in as many episodes as I could, just to get through them. It started to feel like a job. Every time I had a spare half an hour, I would put on an episode of Suits. I think I realised it was a problem when I found myself standing on a train platform watching the show on my phone. I don’t even think it’s that great; getting through the show just appeals to my nerdy completist psychology.
What makes it worse is that no one else is watching Suits. It leads to no water-cooler chat about anything, apart from the fact that Meghan Markle is in it, and how amazing it is that she can say lines and act even though she is now a royal. To give you an idea of how wilfully out of step I am, I have just started season two of Game Of Thrones, and will move on to Breaking Bad after that. “Behind the curve” feels aspirational at this point.
Binge-watching also seems to have changed the way a lot of television gets made. Some of the worst examples have an ambling plot but jam enough of a hook in at the end for you to decide to move on to the next episode. When we were writing the second series of The Reluctant Landlord, we created storylines that we felt would suit binge-watching, as we knew it was going to drop all in one go. I am blessed with both a lack of urgency to get up and move and an addictive personality, which means I just have to pray that no one suddenly drops a box set of 1,000 episodes of something perfectly designed to be binged, as I will have to just say goodbye to my family.
The point I am trying to meander to, in the style of Suits’ Mike Ross, is that I am not sure if I’m more drawn to the content of a TV show or the medium through which we now consume them. I used to not give a toss about waiting a week for the next episode of something; now, that would feel borderline unethical. In a similar way, I listen to more music than ever before, but not because I am more passionate about it; it’s just more immediately available.
All I’m asking for is a bit of help. Rather than shovelling more and more episodes in your face, I would love it if a warning popped up that said: “Are you sure you want to watch another? Have you spoken to your wife, or actually done anything with your day?” Obviously I would continue to watch, but at least I could send the family a text.
