Why Sexism and Homophobia in Old TV Shows Is Such a Big Problem Today

What to do when Netflix binge-watches go sour.
Image may contain Matt LeBlanc David Schwimmer Matthew Perry Courteney Cox Human Person Lisa Kudrow and Sitting
FRIENDS -- Pictured: (clockwise l-r) Courteney Cox as Monica Geller, Matthew Perry as Chandler Bing, Jennifer Aniston as Rachel Green, David Schwimmer as Ross Geller, Matt LeBlanc as Joey Tribbiani, Lisa Kudrow as Phoebe Buffay (Photo by Jon Ragel/NBC/NBCU Photo Bank via Getty Images)NBC

In this op-ed, Oliver Lee Bateman explores the problematic and hurtful comedy in some of your favorite throwback TV shows.

If you’ve been nonstop nostalgia-binging on Friends, you’ll eventually reach the episode where Rachel Green and Ross Geller interview a male nanny. That disturbing interview scene, intended by the show’s writers to elicit some easy laughs, will probably make you cringe — if it doesn’t cause you to stop watching altogether.

Actor David Schwimmer, embodying Ross’s swaggering, sometimes-toxic masculinity, gets straight to the point: “You’re gay, right?” he asks the prospective “manny.” Ross goes on to spend several minutes in an alpha-male posture that reeks of hostility, rolling his eyes when the “manny” talks about how much he enjoys spending time with children. This episode, “The One With the Male Nanny,” aired in 2002, yet it seems decades removed from what would fly on modern-day television. And it’s far from the only such incident when reviewing other sitcoms of the era. These shows — some of which are rightly praised for some of their more progressive stances — aren’t perfect, and you shouldn’t overlook their flaws as you re-watch them.

The fact that a sitcom or film happened to be forward-thinking for its era doesn’t mean we should refrain from critiquing it now. ‘90s nerd-oriented indie comedies like Chasing Amy were hurtful, yet labeling them as such doesn’t erase the fact that, yes, they were critically-acclaimed when they were released. One of the ways that we can act as historians is by reevaluating and reinterpreting our own pasts. And now, more than ever, prompted by the hard work of activists and social justice trailblazers, our beliefs and values keep evolving. We constantly reconsider ideas we once accepted as true; we continue noticing problems we had previously ignored.

I came of age during the 1990s, but the person I was then seems light years removed from who I am today. At the time, when I would watch a not-so-svelte Drew Carey rattle off fat jokes and witch jokes at the expense of co-star Kathy Kinney's character Mimi, I might not have laughed, but I wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. The same went for Niles Crane’s multi-season nerdy, nice guy-stalking of physical therapist Daphne Moon — even as he, his brother Frasier, and their father Martin ceaselessly mocked Niles’s off-camera wife Maris. And though I grew up in a town with a majority African-American population, the mostly whitewashed sitcom casting of the time passed without my noticing.

There were, of course, a great deal of cultural milestones to celebrate. Plenty of viewers applauded Ellen DeGeneres’s decision to reveal her — and her character’s — sexual orientation in 1997. Many of our moms had fulfilling careers, so it likely came as no surprise that strong female characters such as Elaine Benes on Seinfeld and Rachel Green and Monica Geller on Friends advanced in their jobs — though it’s worth pointing out that, especially for Elaine and Rachel, their positions were ones traditionally occupied by women. And Will & Grace did a good job of incorporating LGBT characters in mainstream popular culture, even if Will and Jack sometimes exhibited traits that played to painful stereotypes and occasionally lapsed into casual misogyny. (Jack's various one-liners about Grace’s hair and Karen’s posterior might get called out as sexist, demeaning conduct today, as would the hard slap he once delivered to shock Karen back to reality.)

Sitcoms, like other pop culture artifacts, reflect the time and place of their production — but that doesn’t make them OK. Our society’s attitudes have progressed considerably on issues such as what behavior constitutes sexual assault, the negative effects of being presented with unrealistic views about body image, and other forms of discrimination that were once written off as benign or unintentional. Years ago, Jerry Seinfeld using a combination of medication, wine, and turkey to drug his girlfriend so that he could play with her vintage toy collection functioned as a crucial plot point. The same went for a tired trope like “Fat Monica,” a device that served not just as part of Monica Geller’s backstory but as a source of endless weight jokes dished out by Ross, Chandler, and Joey. Or Frasier Crane’s overreaction to the addition of a popular black character to his radio show, which resulted in a horrific minstrel impression from actor Kelsey Grammer that included the use of the word “massah.” And nobody can overlook the slob husband/hyper-competent, nagging wife dynamic on display in shows ranging from Home Improvement and Everybody Loves Raymond to The King of Queens.

Although we might still expect this kind of thing from lowbrow fare, it’s now much less likely to escape mainstream criticism. An all-white sitcom cast might earn a primetime slot on CBS, but the pushback will be immediate and well-deserved. Creating fully realized roles for members of underrepresented groups is now a priority for many networks. Even though the execution is sometimes sloppy and ham-handed, shows such as Black-ish and Orange Is the New Black are proving that not only is it possible, but that audiences will respond positively. There’s a long way to go, but these recent changes, as manifested in one of the most commercially-visible areas of our popular culture, are a welcome development.

The fact that shows like Black-ish and Dear White People are both willing to and adept at combining comedy with very real issues is a reflection of the world we live in today. Our norms are changing, as more and more people are taking to the streets to fight injustice. Coming home to turn on the TV and laugh at those same slights feels out of place. What's more, thanks in part to social media, networks can't hide behind the idea that people don't respond to shows that choose to tackle the same issues they see in real life, or that a joke is "just" a punchline.

With that in mind, we also shouldn’t be surprised when shows of today are reevaluated by future generations. Though its creators have made great strides in representing characters heretofore absent from most network television shows, Modern Family’s economic privilege is showing: you can tell anybody’s story, as long as they’re well-off and witty. Shows such as Girls and Bojack Horseman have had their moments, but you can bet many of our own kids will question why the heck we were so tolerant of certain aspects of those shows that they may perceive as deeply troubling.

And it’s OK to look back at what you used to love — Friends and 30 Rock and Girls included — and realize that maybe you were not as aware as you are now. You have to decide for yourself whether you should or shouldn’t watch these relics once you recognize their flaws, as you cannot change series that have long since wrapped. But what is for sure is that it is possible, and deeply important, to support new shows that are getting things right in terms of representation. Every show is likely to have its weak moments, but by championing programs that are committed to inclusive writers’ rooms and behind-the-camera staff — not to mention casts — it’s likely that you’ll be endorsing work that is getting it right more often than not.

No matter what, questioning the past is an impulse we should never discourage. If one of your friends interrupts while you’re watching the Gilmore Girls revival to lambaste Rory Gilmore’s journalistic bona fides or the fact that the cast is as frustratingly white as the original series was, don’t shush them. Listen, and then, after considering your own preconceptions, engage in a constructive dialogue. We learn from the past only by constantly challenging it, with our reappraisals serving as the starting point for the more aware and inclusive world we all deserve to inhabit.

Related: 10 Web Series About LGBTQ Women and Femmes of Color to Watch