Humans love what they don’t understand. They feed off the struggle of others because maybe, just maybe, their lives aren’t nearly as bad as they think if they see how hard someone else has it.
Businessman P.T. Barnum recognized this curiosity of the unknown and the need for amusement, turning humans into museum exhibits. Born in 1810, American showman Barnum was notorious for his one-of-a-kind entertainment acts, outrageous stunts, repetitive advertising and strong publicity. In his infamous “Freak Show” museum and performance, he turned people with distinct physical characteristics, medical conditions or rare talents into cold hard cash. He marketed humans as rarities in the worst way possible, and the crowd’s hunger for spectacle kept the business flowing.
You may be thinking this is far removed from modern day and that there is no such thing as “Freak Shows” anymore, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Exploitation is rebranded in sneaky ways that trick audiences into thinking they are simply watching a reality television show.
TLC is a TV network notorious for rare reality television subjects. America has watched with obsessive fascination as the network pumps out shows such as “My Strange Addiction,” “7 Little Johnstons” and “1000-lb Sisters.” The draw of other people’s untraditional lifestyles, distinct physical characteristics and strange habits bridges an eerie connection to why Barnum’s “Freak Show” gained such strong popularity. People may grow and society may become more visibly progressive, but the human demand for entertainment at the cost of others will always remain rampant.
Both TLC and Barnum’s circus tell a story of exploitation. It may be easy to combat this statement with the fact that both Barnum and TLC showcase people on a mainly volunteer basis — if they get paid, it can’t be exploitation, right? First off, not all of Barnum’s employees were subjects in his show of their own free will. At the beginning of Barnum’s career as a showman, two conjoined twins were sold to him in slavery. Their names were Millie and Christine McCoy, and their journey was one of kidnapping, slavery and hardship. They were passed between the hands of rich, white men, using them as a singing act against their will. This is just one of the many examples of Barnum’s unethical spectacle efforts.
While TLC may not physically enslave its subjects, the incentive of money is one of the main reasons people even agree to become a public spectacle. Difficulties finding a job with a medical condition or unique features were an issue in the 1800s and remain an issue now. Companies may implement disability tracking on job applications to comply with federal regulations, but the struggle persists. The subjects of exploitation often have few other options, and the temptation of cash overrules personal morals and principles.
The types of medical disabilities exploited by the two are extremely similar as well. A great example of this is TLC and Barnum’s fascinations with dwarfism. Dwarfism is a genetic condition that results in visible short stature due to affected bone and cartilage growth. TLC has at least five current shows about people with this disability, including “Little People, Big World,” “7 Little Johnstons,” “The Little Couple,” “Little Women: LA” and “Little Women: Atlanta.” Barnum had many performers with dwarfism employed over the years of his show, one of the most famous being Charles Stratton or “General Tom Thumb.”
People may say this is positive — that it gives people with disabilities a job, fame and recognition for their lives and talents. This may be true for some, but the connection of disability to spectacle strips people with dwarfism and other conditions to just that — their disability. These shows and performances tended to highlight the medical conditions responsible for why they were hired in the first place instead of their actual talents. Do you think every person with dwarfism that Barnum hired really wanted to be a singer? Or that every person with dwarfism on TLC really wanted to be reality television stars?
It all ties back to what we value as voyeurs and the ethicality of turning people into performance. TLC may brand themselves as reality television, which generally has a more positive connotation, but the undertones of manipulation and the ability to take advantage of other people’s situations remain constant.
What Barnum sold as curiosity, TLC sells as empathy, but both cash in on the need for the public to watch someone’s struggles, differences or rarities from a safe distance.
The circus never died — it just found better lighting and a prime-time TV slot.
Faith Richardson likes to write about student life, the arts and the media. Email her at [email protected].
