"Do you watch Love Island?'

It's a question that seems to be on everybody's lips at the moment. And the answer, 'no' seems to be on mine and mine only.

I've just always felt like: what's the big deal?

I'm not saying I'm better than anybody else. God knows I have my guilty pleasures. But the idea of being into such a toxic display of what can only be described as a modern-day mating ritual is beyond me.

And while both genders typically act, how do I put it...untoward...claims of toxic masculinity, sexism, and misogyny have essentially become part of the genre.

The early days were about everyday dynamics and relatable, if messy, humanity. But somewhere along the way, this genre twisted into something far more extreme.

Now, it's not enough to simply watch people live their lives. Today's reality TV sells a hyper-dramatised circus, with characters who embody these toxic extremes of behaviour.

When we think about this same kind of toxicity that's currently running rampant online, and the overlap of reality TV's 'alpha males,' one has to question - do these shows glorify this behaviour enough for it to spill out into the real world?

Controversial characters likely to cause conflicts have always been first pick for cast.

Take a look at Big Brother Season 17, for example.

Influencer Andrew Tate (yes, that Andrew Tate) appeared on the show, before being ejected from the house after a video of him whipping a woman with a belt went public.

Or how about The Hills' walking red flag Spencer Pratt leaving then-girlfriend Heidi Montag on the side of the road? Or Made in Chelsea's Spencer Matthews' repeated public cheating?

These shows have historically embraced the 'bad boy' trope. They look for personalities who will stir the pot, bring the drama, and keep viewers hooked, teaching us one clear lesson: the more explosive the personality, the more magnetic they were on screen.

Audiences and producers alike seem hooked on these divisive figures, who veer between suave and downright disrespectful. These shows love using selective editing to amp up their charm or amplify their toxic traits.

And evidently, it works.

Because these shows, while in part, are about 'finding love,' we all know they're very much focused on facilitating the next big drama.

It's reality TV, after all. And drama is the currency.

Picture it: a group of people, cut off from the outside world, trapped in a house or on an island, with nothing to do but compete and perform for the cameras.

This is called 'the observer effect.' It's the 'phenomenon that causes individuals who might have been inclined to act aggressively, abusively or antisocially to modify their behaviour when they know they're being filmed or recorded.'

This makes the setting in reality TV the perfect storm for bringing out the worst in people. Any mild personality quirk can escalate into something much darker under the constant spotlight.

The nastier or more confrontational someone is, the more screen time they get. And they know it. Today's reality stars understand that a viral moment can turn them into overnight social media sensations.

Which makes bad behaviour all the more profitable.

At the end of the day, reality TV is a business-a ratings-driven business, at that.

And viewers eat it up.

There's a dark irony here: reality TV sells us this 'authenticity' while carefully crafting characters to maximise conflict. This means producers are literally engineering conflict.

This ratings game raises some serious ethical questions. By repeatedly airing toxic behaviour, reality TV normalizes it.