Being a Big Brother contestant was lifechanging. But so was watching it
In the film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, Bilbo asks Frodo: “Any chance of seeing that old ring of mine again? I should like to have held it one last time.” Like the ring, Big Brother – which had its final episode last night – was a drug. Who wouldn’t want more? But the adoration you get from being in the show isn’t real; the safety and isolation of the House (it’s always capitalised when I write about it) isn’t permanent; free food and accommodation can’t be provided forever. Eventually Stockholm syndrome must be left behind and one must return to reality.
I tend to talk about the physical nature of Big Brother, rather than how I felt. It was either cold or roasting hot in the bedrooms; it smelled of paint; there were 300 lights in the living room; the crew earned the name “elephants” for the way that they stomped through the camera-runs and bumped in to things. We ate the equivalent of wartime rations for weeks; I still detest chickpeas and hummus. The hot water only came on for brief period each day, but one could have a solar-powered shower under the hosepipe in the garden in the afternoon. We overcame the physical constraints and made our little community work.
I am often asked, “Did it change your life? Do you regret it?” but it’s hard to give a simple answer. My raised profile led to me co-presenting seven series of the award-winning TV show Brainiac: Science Abuse, and that earned me the privilege of discussing science policy with Sir David Attenborough at No 10. Students report that Brainiac inspired them to engage with Stem (science, technology, engineering and maths) subjects in secondary education and beyond, and I’m told that simply having my name listed as one of the patrons of the Stem charity SATRO.org.uk opens doors to help them obtain funding and resources for their amazing work.
On the other hand, during five timepoor years of living a double life as both a scientist and a TV presenter, I relied on a convenience-food diet that resulted in the removal of my gall bladder. I’m certain that my career would have progressed further had I focused on it in my early 30s, and sometimes I wish that some of my colleagues wouldn’t introduce me as, “This is Jon – he’s walked on custard”, but rather as my ex-boss did at an industry conference last week: “This is Jon, he’s an excellent enterprise information architect.”
And what of the programme itself? Should the producers be happy with the way in which Big Brother has changed television and, I would argue, society? The so-called virtue-signalling, politically correct, liberal elites who produced Big Brother have contributed to making life less comfortable for the largely middle-aged rightwing white males who have seen their privilege questioned increasingly severely in recent years. Brooke Berry had it right in the most recent series when she told Hussain Ahmed, “You can try being an alpha male but look what happened to the others – we got rid of them.” The white male winners such as Craig Phillips, Cameron Stout and Anthony Hutton proved instead that to win, one must earn the right to lead rather than demand it.
It should not be forgotten that notable Big Brother winners included a young man with Tourette syndrome, a gay Irish air steward and a transgender Portuguese hairdresser. The viewers were exposed to diversity, and they embraced it. Can we draw a direct line from Big Brother to David Cameron’s speech at the 2011 Conservative party conference backing samesex marriage? Perhaps not. But Big Brother played its part in increasing many people’s exposure to people who didn’t look or sound like them, and with that familiarity comes acceptance.
Big Brother viewers have also seen groups that stood up to the patriarchy and won; that expelled housemates who were racist or made antisemitic comments as a joke. Big Brother has taught us that societies don’t have to tolerate unacceptable behaviour and we can call it out when we see it; no wonder some of the white men trolling me on Facebook feel threatened. That will be Big Brother’s enduring legacy. Winston Smith might have been comforted by that thought.