National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) recent complaints This result for “Love is Blind” is a landmark moment for the reality television industry.
Essentially, the NLRB seeks to provide federal protections to contestants by classifying them as employees and charging shows with labor violations, including illegal contract terms.
While this ruling is a well-intentioned attempt to address allegations of exploitation, it overlooks the transformative economic and social opportunities available to these contestants after appearing on the show. It also raises serious questions about the nature of reality TV and whether these performers truly fit the definition of “employee.”
I'll admit here that I don't watch any kind of television, except for sports and, yes, this same Love is Blind. Season 1 of the Swedish series (which I'm lucky enough to have in my native language) might be the best reality show of all time, so I highly recommend it.
But let's get back to the legal side. There's no denying that appearing on a reality show like “Love Is Blind” is an intense and rewarding experience, but characterizing contestants as employees goes too far. Reality TV is not traditional employment. Its participants are not traditional workers.
Contestants voluntarily sign contracts to participate in these shows, knowing full well that they will be exposed to scrutiny, long hours, and sometimes mentally taxing conditions. But these challenges are part of what makes the genre so appealing to viewers and profitable for the contestants once the show airs.
The NLRB's argument appears to center on the idea that these contestants are being “taken advantage of” by restrictive contractual provisions such as non-compete and non-disclosure agreements. However, these regulations are standard in the entertainment industry, especially for high-profile productions. These have the purpose of protecting the creative integrity of the show and ensuring that participants do not divulge plot points or interrupt the development of the story. While non-competes can potentially be a problem in some industries, they are probably less onerous in reality television, where contracts typically only apply for a limited period of time.
Additionally, even if you accept the argument that reality shows can be tough on contestants, it's important to consider what happens after the cameras stop rolling. Being on a hit show like “Love is Blind” is a life-changing opportunity. Contestants gain instant attention and access to a platform that can launch their careers in ways unimaginable before the advent of reality television.
Consider the case of Lauren Speed Hamilton and Cameron Hamilton, two contestants who got married during the first season of “Love Is Blind.” The couple parlayed their fame into lucrative brand partnerships, book deals and a thriving social media presence. Lauren currently has over 2 million followers on Instagram and is able to get paid handsomely for sponsored posts and collaborations. This is the path many reality TV contestants are pursuing, and for good reason. The monetization opportunities available after the show ends far outweigh any perceived disadvantages during filming.
Even contestants who don't find love or make it to the finals can benefit immensely. For example, Bertis Boden didn't get married on the show, but she used her time in the spotlight to build a career as a fitness influencer. Post-show opportunities like this wouldn't exist without the visibility provided by the series. For most competitors, the trade-off between temporary discomfort in exchange for long-term benefit is clear.
The NLRB's complaint also risks misunderstanding the nature of reality television itself. These shows are not workplaces in the traditional sense. Contestants are not hired to perform tasks or produce goods. They are chosen for their personalities, stories and potential to create compelling television. They are participants in a narrative experiment, not employees of the corporate hierarchy.
Labeling them employees sets a dangerous precedent that could stifle the creativity and spontaneity that makes reality TV so popular. The genre will inevitably change if producers are forced to meet union protections, workplace standards, and treat contestants as employees. Will viewers tune in even if every moment is carefully managed to avoid potential labor violations? That's unlikely.
Appellate courts will need to carefully consider these considerations if this case moves forward. The ruling also raises concerns about whether participants will be required to negotiate collective agreements before filming begins. As a result, production may be halted and the contestants themselves may ultimately suffer losses.
Furthermore, forming a trade union is a complex and often contentious process. For all the benefits it brings, it also introduces bureaucracy and costs that can make small-scale or niche reality shows financially unviable. This is particularly problematic for diversity in the genre, as productions that cannot afford the overhead costs associated with unionized cast members risk being sidelined.
Critics of reality shows often portray television participants as victims of a ruthless entertainment machine. This perspective overlooks the agency and ambition that many contestants bring to their roles. However, the reality is often the opposite. They are not passive actors manipulated by producers. These are smart people who understand that reality TV is a springboard to bigger opportunities.
That doesn't mean reality TV contracts can't benefit from some reform. Transparency regarding terms and conditions and access to mental health resources could go a long way in addressing concerns about contestants' welfare. However, these measures can be implemented without fundamentally changing the nature of the genre or misclassifying contestants as employees.
After all, reality television is about creating stories that resonate with viewers and giving contestants a chance to change their lives. The NLRB's complaint risks upsetting that balance by imposing a framework that does not align with the industry's unique dynamics. Rather than focusing on misclassification, let's celebrate the opportunities that reality TV provides and work to ensure those opportunities are available for years to come.
Aaron Solomon is Chief Strategy Officer at Amplify. He has taught entrepreneurship at McGill University and the University of Pennsylvania.
