Morning shows are the rage in Pakistan. And much as we love to call them out, let me get to the point straight up, without beating about the bush: is it us, the audience, that adds to the viral views? From coffee parties to breakfast meets, from sharing clips on WhatsApp groups to scrolling on social media and commenting under the most viral moments—are we possibly the cause, the symptom, and the victim all rolled into one?
Wait a minute—don’t answer that. Because once you say yes, there’s no turning back.
How else would we know about Meera Jee’s stately walk-off from a recent podcast, or Fiza Ali’s (un)stately pick-up line, or even Saba Faisal’s marriage advice to unsuspecting young women—now very suspecting—or Javed Sheikh’s desire to see modesty reflected in a woman’s dress code?
These are all personal opinions, and that’s the point of a podcast, right? To let the guest reveal their most organic self—unstaged, true to life, and ahem, genuine. Because let’s face it, we see too many staged moments on our highly curated social media feeds, and a breath of fresh air—unbrushed appearances and even more unbrushed personal statements—is exactly what the world craves.
But is this really what we mean when we say genuine moments? Or is it just another version of staged-meets-genuine to hype up viral views?
The more “genuinely staged” the moment, the more traction it gets.
Right?
Don’t ask me—ask the teams that keep the camera rolling, ask the questionable questions, and make their guests feel visibly uncomfortable. Catch it all onscreen to be played and replayed in strategically edited clips, leaving out the before and after of the conversation because, well, that’s not what gets the gut reactions we seek for viral views.
And let’s not forget the audience’s role in this.
At the heart of every new podcast that tugs at the elusive promise of “going viral” is an audience that also craves its moment—a comment, a post, a reel that exploits the viral clip and opinionates on it so everyone can get a slice of the pie. Some reactions are more viral than others.
Take Ahmed Ali Butt’s recent take on Meera Jee’s walk-off from Irshad Bhatti’s show, defending the host by saying that nothing he asked was hidden from the public, so what was all the fuss about?
Oh well—that’s just the point.
Why does everything have to become a matter of public debate or offensively sneak into our online conversations? Have we lost the ability to be creative, smart, and witty that we can’t come up with better questions for an icon such as Meera Jee? Must we resort to below-the-belt questioning, making her—a guest on your show—feel visibly uncomfortable, and then ensure the clip is posted online to gain that elusive viral moment?
Have we forgotten that women in the 21st century do not need to be schooled by a mother-in-law on how to dress, what to wear, and when to breathe if they are to live in a joint family system? Or is it simply that these conversations get more traction than some “odd aunty” talking about the rights accorded to women in the nikah nama?
And the clips—do not for a second believe they aren’t staged.
They are edited, placed, and framed to elicit a certain reaction from audiences. And that reaction is shares, saves, online debates, and more debates. The longer a reel stays relevant, the more repeat plays. The higher the views, the more creators can milk it. Any publicity is good publicity, after all.
The more controversial the content, the greater the probability of it going viral.
The longer we can make it stay on our feeds, the more traction it gets.
It’s all about staying in the news—and yes, no secret—the revenue from high views.
Certain stars will always get more views because they’re liable to speak unfiltered, so let’s make sure they stay part of the guest lineup.
It doesn’t matter whether these conversations are adding value to a nation where young girls suffer torture at the hands of their mothers-in-law, where women are harassed for the clothes they wear (and even when they are covered from head to toe), where husbands threaten wives with second or third marriages because, well, they can.
It doesn’t matter that our female celebrities are often judged first on what they wear and only later on how they perform.
We are a nation that thrives on controversial content and memes.
The more controversial, the better.
What comes across as funny is often just a tasteless joke about women and housewives, with hosts smiling politely as guests laugh it off. From men joking about second marriages to women targeting other women, from female sportspersons being described as “too masculine” for the desi palate—yes, that happened too—to Ramazan transmissions becoming less about spirituality and more about who said what to whom and how that person reacted online.
People don’t even feel the need to pick up the phone and address private issues anymore because hey—the internet is cooler. Why wish someone good riddance privately when online can get so much more clout?
So here’s the question:
Do celebrities, influencers, and talk show hosts alike need a revamp? A talk show school where they are trained to address issues responsibly—or taught, quite literally, not to offer unsolicited advice on social and religious matters? For example: a woman’s attire, comparing or rating one female actor against another, or fabricating bizarre “what if…” scenarios involving celebrity encounters on flights.
The list goes on.
Or should we, as an audience, simply give up and tune into better shows—those more aligned with our tastes—and let the rabble outsmart each other for the highest views and lowest tactics?
After all, it’s a free market, they say.
Oh well—that’s a debate that never knows where to draw the line. Which content should be monitored, and which should be aired?
The industry censor board certainly doesn’t like talking about difficult issues like marital rape, leaked videos, or harassment. These topics must meet strict guidelines.
But personal opinions on a woman’s attire, her character, and her personal life?
Oh well—that’s free game.
Have you ever heard of a morning show being held accountable for airing questionable content? Not nearly as often as dramas that reflect pressing and painful realities in society.
Why is it that one makes us more uncomfortable than the other?
Why is it that we take a crass conversation on a talk show in stride—“this is just how they are, switch channels if you don’t like it”—but a drama addressing women’s issues becomes a major point of contention?
“This is against our culture.”
“This is corrupting our youth.”
“This is making us westernized.”
Have we taken a long, hard look at the society we’re building?
The conversations that drive our social media feeds are the conversations we hand down to the next generation.
There is nothing western about them.
Making your guest feel uncomfortable, telling your daughter-in-law what to wear, oversharing personal information—these are certainly not westernized problems.
For a society that prides itself on privacy, tradition, family values, and decency above all else, we are a messy lot.
Feel free to dole out marriage advice, overshare intimate details with fellow celebrities, ask invasive questions and answer them, make your guest squirm because now you’re getting somewhere.
The camera zooms in to catch the expression.
Voila.
You have a potentially viral reel.
Twenty seconds of controversial content that fits perfectly into your Instagram feed—savable, shareable, looped on repeat, and yes, viral.
This is not a rant.
Yet somehow, this is a rant.
(I tried, trust me.)
The same people who question talk shows are often the same people who share the clips, the memes, the uncomfortable moments online, becoming part of the reason the content goes viral in the first place.
Remember that moment in Aik Aur Pakeezah when Saman refuses to share or watch a leaked video?
That’s what we need to learn in social media school.
Let’s do some role-playing.
Pretend, just for a second, that it is you in that chair—the hot seat, the guest being asked those questions.
Remember the moment a talk show host responded, “Why are we even discussing a second marriage?”
The truth?
No talk show host ever said that—except in our most hopeful dreams.
Well, except Saba Qamar, bless her soul, who did call out a guest for daring to joke about it with his wife sitting right next to him.
The poor wife just smiled politely.
What else could she have done before a live audience?
That is the beyond-comfort zone women are constantly pushed into when men say, “I’m only kidding.”
And when the conversation takes on a questionable focus—how to school daughters-in-law, how to manage second wives, how women should dress—it is always louder when the celebrity is bigger.
Hence, age-shaming top female actors is a national sport.
Dropping rulebooks on how to live with your in-laws is another favorite.
Digging deep into a celebrity’s personal life, or asking one celebrity to comment on another who is not even present, is a brilliant way to extend the lifecycle of an interview.
Just make it personal.
And if the guest walks away after repeatedly asking you to talk about her movie instead of extracurricular scandals?
That’s a guaranteed hit.
The question is—and I know what you’re thinking—why would we want to move away from this temptation of spiraling views, celebrity divorces, impending marriages, pregnancies, dating lives of the rich and famous, and so much more?
That is exactly what keeps the shop open and ready for business.
But who keeps it running?
It’s not just them—the hosts who ask the questions.
It’s us.
We share them.
We call it “spilling the tea.”
We forward it on WhatsApp groups.
Another person’s misery becomes our entertainment—and someone else’s bread and butter.
Are we part of the problem?
Surely. One hundred percent.
How do we climb out of this rut?
Or will it get worse before it gets better?
Have we not hit rock bottom yet?
I don’t have the answers.
But if you do—if your finer sense of self asks why you spend ten minutes, and surely much more, of your day consuming reel after reel that adds no value to your existence—if reading books, listening to an educational podcast, or even watching a rom-com that makes you laugh out loud and forget your troubles isn’t a better way to spend your time—
well then—
go on and tune into the day’s miseries.
There are many to choose from.
I’ve lost count.
Spoilt for choice, aren’t we?
