Hate-Watching Is 2026's National Sport — And We're Proudly Top of the Table
Photo: Senior Airman Audree Campbell, USAF, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Confession time: we have spent 2026 shouting at the television, rolling our eyes at plot twists and sending increasingly unhinged voice notes to the group chat. And we have loved every ridiculous minute. This has been the year of the hate-watch, and we are not sorry.
The Year Telly Embraced the Car Crash
Somewhere between the dating show that introduced a twist nobody asked for and the cooking competition that appeared to be scored by a Magic 8 Ball, British telly decided that dignity was optional. And honestly? Thank goodness. We have had plenty of worthy dramas and gentle documentaries. But the shows that have really kept the nation talking are the ones that arrive with a wink, a foghorn soundtrack and at least one contestant threatening to take this all the way.
Reality TV has always been a bit extra. In 2026, it has become a full-contact sport. We have watched influencers discover the concept of a hard day's work, celebrities weep over a bush-tucker trial that looked suspiciously like a spa day, and couples argue about who ate the last of the villa's crisps. It is not high art. It is, however, impossible to ignore.
Why We Can't Look Away
Hate-watching gets a bad press. People say it is cynical, wasteful, a sign that we have given up on good television. We say it is communal. There is something deeply bonding about watching the same baffling programme as half the country and then dissecting it with the ferocity of a select committee. The group chat becomes a live commentary booth. The sofa becomes a front-row seat at a pantomime where nobody knows their lines.
It also helps that the mess is so beautifully produced. These shows know exactly what they are doing. The slow-motion drink throw. The dramatic pause before the reveal. The contestant who says they are not here to make friends while making approximately forty-seven enemies before the first ad break. We are being manipulated, and we are happily handing over the remote.
The Fine Art of a Good Hate-Watch
Not every bad show is worth your time. A proper hate-watch needs certain ingredients. The programme must take itself seriously, even when it is clearly nonsense. There should be at least one person who believes they are the main character in a prestige drama. And the edit must include a shot of someone staring into the middle distance while a piano plays. Bonus points if a plate is smashed.
This year, the dramas have also been doing their bit. We have seen long-lost twins, suspicious wills, poisoned trifles and a hostage situation in a village hall. At least one plotline appeared to have been written by a toddler with a crayon and a grudge. Did we stop watching? Absolutely not. We simply paused, rewound and watched it again.
The Defence Rests
Some people knit. Some people run marathons. Some people spend their evenings shouting at a stranger who has just betrayed their best friend on national television. We are not here to judge. Well, we are here to judge the contestants, but not you.
Hate-watching is not the same as hate. It is affection with a raised eyebrow. It is the joy of a shared disaster. It is knowing that tomorrow, in the office kitchen, someone will say did you see it and you will both launch into a fifteen-minute rant that neither of you will ever get back. That is community. That is culture. That is a National Television Award waiting to happen.
No Apologies, Just More Biscuits
So no, we are not sorry. 2026 has been a glorious bin fire of telly, and we have warmed our hands on the flames. The shows may be flawed. The plots may make no sense. The contestants may need a nap and a financial adviser. But they have given us something to talk about, something to laugh at and something to collectively despair over. In a year that has been, let's face it, a lot, that is worth something.
Pass the remote. We are not done yet.
