Table of Contents
Hate Watching: Psychology, Mechanisms, and Cultural Impact of a Paradoxical Phenomenon
Why do people deliberately watch TV shows or movies they actually dislike? At first glance, this behavior seems contradictory. Yet, hate-watching is a widespread phenomenon that the streaming industry has long capitalized on. A prime example: Emily in Paris. Despite scathing reviews, the Netflix series amassed over 58 million viewers in just 28 days—largely fueled by mockery and discussions on social media.
But what psychological mechanisms drive hate-watching? Why are we drawn to content that frustrates us? And what role does the media industry play in this dynamic? This analysis explores both individual and societal aspects of the phenomenon. Using contemporary journalistic research, streaming data, and compelling hate-watch examples, I decode the motivations behind this seemingly irrational consumption behavior—and what it reveals about our media landscape.
1. Psychological Mechanisms
From a psychological standpoint, hate-watching appears paradoxical—yet it exerts a peculiar fascination. Why do people consciously invest time in shows or films they deem bad? The answer lies in a combination of superiority complex, social comparison, and neurobiological responses.
A central factor is self-affirmation: viewers experience a sense of intellectual superiority while hate-watching. By meticulously dissecting the flaws of a “bad” show, they position themselves as critics who can recognize the evident failures of scriptwriting, direction, or character development. A television journalist once described this dynamic as an audience feeling superior to the “guinea pigs on TV”—a way to momentarily escape personal struggles by indulging in the takedown of entertainment. This form of criticism often comes with schadenfreude: taking secret pleasure in witnessing failure or cringeworthy moments, which, in turn, reinforces one’s self-image.
But hate-watching isn’t solely about social comparison—it also functions on a neurobiological level. Strong emotions, even negative ones, activate the brain’s reward system. Feelings of anger, disgust, or contempt trigger neurotransmitters like oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin, creating a fleeting sense of excitement and even satisfaction. This pattern explains why hate-watching can become addictive: it provides a controlled outlet for pent-up aggression without real-life consequences.
Another key mechanism is social comparison, which can unfold in two ways. Upward comparison involves measuring oneself against seemingly successful or happy characters on screen—an encounter that can spark envy. The subsequent rejection of these characters (“They’re not that great anyway”) serves as psychological self-defense. Downward comparison works in the opposite direction: we compare ourselves to embarrassing or failing figures in reality shows or poorly written dramas. The thought “At least that’s not me” can boost self-esteem, similar to the effect of rubbernecking at a car accident—unpleasant, yet oddly reassuring.
Related Phenomena: Doomscrolling and Hate-Following
Hate-watching isn’t an isolated behavior but part of a larger psychological pattern. A similar tendency is doomscrolling—compulsively consuming negative news and infuriating social media posts, despite their anxiety-inducing effects. Our brain follows a negativity bias, keeping us fixated on bad news. Another related habit is hate-following, in which people intentionally track individuals on social media just to be outraged by their content. All these behaviors reveal that humans deliberately expose themselves to negative stimuli—not only for emotional release or social comparison but because outrage itself has become a form of entertainment.
2. Sociological and Cultural Perspectives
Although the term “hate-watching” gained popularity in recent years, the principle isn’t new. Long before streaming and social media, people delighted in “bad” movies or trash TV—often with an ironic twist. In the 1980s and ’90s, cult events formed around B-movies, most notably The Room, where audiences recited absurd dialogue and hurled plastic spoons at the screen. The pleasure of “so bad it’s good” was particularly evident in trash horror films or cheaply produced soap operas, offering unintentional comedy and a deliberate departure from mainstream quality.
Yet, hate-watching goes beyond ironic enjoyment. While cult trash films were often watched with affectionate amusement, hate-watching is fueled more by mockery, frustration, and outrage. The term itself was popularized in 2012 by critics like Emily Nussbaum (The New Yorker), who observed audiences passionately tearing apart low-quality shows. However, earlier instances existed, such as the 1998-founded forum Television Without Pity, where fans gleefully dissected subpar TV series.
Today, digital platforms have given hate-watching a new dimension. Whereas mockery once remained within friend circles, it now unfolds in real-time on X, Reddit, and TikTok. Live commentary, memes, and viral takedowns ensure that even flops garner massive visibility.
When Negative Attention Leads to Success
A striking example is the animated series Velma. Despite abysmal reviews—6% audience approval on Rotten Tomatoes and an IMDb score of 1.3—it dominated social media for weeks. The result? A 127% spike in viewership within one week, briefly making Velma one of the most-streamed shows in the U.S.
This dynamic follows a simple rule: Algorithms prioritize engagement over quality. The more a show is talked about, the more platforms like Netflix or YouTube promote it. Whether audiences watch out of enthusiasm or morbid curiosity is irrelevant—every stream is counted as a success. Ironically, even hate-watching a series increases its popularity and can secure a renewal. That’s exactly what happened with Velma: despite massive criticism, it was renewed for a second season.
3. Media and Industry Criticism
With the rise of streaming services, the question arises: Has the entertainment industry deliberately factored in hate-watchers as a target audience? Officially, no studio would market a film or show as “so bad you have to see it.” Yet, certain productions indirectly capitalize on this phenomenon—because for platforms like Netflix, Amazon, or HBO Max, viewing numbers are all that matters. Whether audiences tune in out of interest or irony doesn’t affect the algorithm.
Some cases suggest that controversy is intentionally leveraged. The creators of Emily in Paris, for instance, seemed unfazed by negative reviews—the staggering viewership numbers justified their strategy. Similarly, Netflix spun Bright, a critically panned fantasy film starring Will Smith, as a success simply because millions had streamed it. Whether out of curiosity or ridicule was irrelevant.
Perhaps the most bizarre example is Morbius (2022). After flopping in theaters, the Marvel spin-off became an internet meme (“It’s Morbin’ Time!”). Sony misinterpreted this as genuine demand and re-released the film—only to flop a second time, with some screenings attracting fewer than ten viewers per theater. The lesson? Hate-watching may generate short-term buzz, but it doesn’t guarantee lasting success.
4. Philosophical and Societal Reflection
Is hate-watching a creative form of media engagement—or ultimately destructive? On one hand, hate-watchers critically engage with the content rather than consuming passively. One can often learn more from failed productions than from successful ones. On the other hand, excessive hate-watching breeds cynicism. Constantly immersing oneself in bad content may diminish genuine enthusiasm for quality storytelling.
In a world where attention is the most valuable currency, the future of hate-watching remains uncertain. While some advocate for consciously avoiding “hate-clicking”—”Don’t feed the trolls!”—streaming platforms have little incentive to curb the trend. As long as outrage drives engagement, productions that spark controversy will continue to thrive.
Ultimately, hate-watching reflects a deeper tension in modern media consumption—a blend of fascination and rejection, entertainment and disdain. It forces us to ask: What do we really want from our media? And how much of our viewing habits are shaped by algorithms rather than genuine interest?
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