The 10 Most Questionable Decisions on TV in 2013

By Nick Roman ·

This hasn't really been a clever year of TV networks. Granted, there have been some good decisions. But, by and large, 2013 has been a monument to poor-planning for many TV networks. Not that any of these decisions have crippled their respective networks, but the bad decisions have damaged potentially lucrative properties for no reason other than short-sightedness. So I'm going to detail what I think were some of the dumbest decisions TV networks have made this year. A few ground rules first though: 1) This isn't about storyline decisions, such as "Man, it was dumb when they killed off [X] on ." 2) This also isn't about the decision to cancel certain shows. For as much flak as I want to give ABC Family for canceling Bunheads, I can't fault them for canning a show that pulled the kind of ratings Bunheads was pulling towards the end. I'd give up any number of shows to have Bunheads back, but I understand why it's gone, so I can't really call that a dumb decision, even if I don't agree with it. This is about behind-the-scenes decisions at the executive level. So let's get to it!

Credit: FOX

Paulina Rubio: X Factor Judge?

I genuinely wonder if anyone at FOX or anyone involved behind-the-scenes at The X Factor USA decided to screen test Paulina Rubio before hiring her to serve as a judge on the make-or-break third season of the ratings-deficient reality show? Seriously, you'd think after the Britney Spears fiasco in season two, they'd realize they need to actually make sure the person they're hiring can actually provide cogent insight, in addition to having a winning onscreen personality that will translate to the intended (American) audience. While I'm not entirely sure Paulina takes the crown from Britney as the worst judge in the history of reality singing competitions, she came pretty damn close with her rambling, nonsensical contributions to The X Factor USA.

This had nothing to do with her accent or her English, and everything to do with the fact that 1) she never really offered anything of insight, nor did she ever seem to connect with any of her acts until the very end, and 2) she just never gelled at all with the rest of the judging panel. Shakira had similar linguistic limitations (though nowhere near as extreme, admittedly), yet she still managed to be a completely beguiling, insightful personality on season 4 of The Voice. I imagine Simon and FOX wanted the same dynamic, but man ALIVE, were they off the mark. That she was able to get one of her acts into the final is something I still can't entirely explain, so I'm not sure I should bother trying to. Instead, I'll just wish her the best of luck in whatever it is she does next, since her miscasting in this role isn't really her fault.

Credit: NBC

NBC: "Revolution is a hit! Let's take it off the air for four months!"

The production cycle for American broadcast television calls for roughly 22 episodes per season. Sometimes it's more, sometimes less, but it's generally in that double-digit ballpark. This means that shows often need to go on midseason breaks, to allow for added filming and production on the back half of the season, as well as avoiding ratings pits such as the holidays. There's also the concern about burning through an entire season of episodes in one straight clip, leaving a network with a lack of programming in crucial periods of its broadcast season.

So how does this relate to NBC's confounding decision to hold off on bringing NBC's choice to shelf its biggest hit in years for four straight months?

Well, let's rewind it a bit. In fall 2012, Revolution premiered in the coveted Monday 10pm time slot following The Voice. NBC has used this time slot as a launching pad, since The Voice has proven to be at its most effective as a lead-in on Mondays (it couldn't save Smash on Tuesdays, however. But then, I doubt anything could have saved Smash short of casting Justin Bieber as Karen Cartwright). The strategy of using The Voice to launch Revolution worked remarkably well, as the show drew in 11.65 million viewers for its premiere, and would only grow in the coming weeks after factoring in DVR viewership numbers. With the aid of the powerful combo of The Voice and Revolution (and football, of course), NBC closed out the fall of 2012 as the No. 1 network on broadcast television, a rare feat for a network that many pundits believed was gradually circling the drain.

And so one could maybe forgive NBC for their belief that Revolution worked best when paired with The Voice, and would possibly fail if brought back for midseason before The Voice was ready. But this ignored the zeitgeist that had built around the show. What NBC captured with Revolution was a rare water cooler series that got people talking in a way that no NBC drama had done in years. The decision to air the midseason finale of Revolution in November, and then keep it off the air until late March, to premiere alongside the newest season of The Voice, ended up being a disaster for what had been one of the fall's most promising new shows. Ratings plummeted until, by the end of the season, Revolution was doing only a fraction of the near 14 million total viewers it had been averaging in the fall. Only six million viewers watched the season finale of Revolution live, and even with DVR numbers factored in, the series still didn't approach its double-digit highs of the fall. Of course, the show was able to earn a second season, but it had lost its momentum as a possible game-changer for the network. What NBC didn't realize was that while Revolution's ratings were helped by having The Voice as a lead-in, its viewership numbers weren't necessarily predicated upon that fact. Maybe Revolution would have flopped anyway, but the point is that by leaving it off the air for four months (an uncommon choice for any network, by the way), NBC essentially took an "of the moment" show out of the moment. And Revolution has never really recovered.

Credit: FOX

Nicki and Mariah: Two Divas, One Panel

In some ways, I can't really blame the people at FOX or American Idol. On paper, "Mariah Carey: American Idol Judge" sounds like the biggest no-brainer in the history of decisions you don't need to really think about. She's a music legend, a multi-platinum superstar, and someone who's practically sold more records than there are people to buy them. Even "American Idol Judge Nicki Minaj" wasn't necessarily the worst idea in the world, given her mainstream cache at the time (although Nicki would have been a much better fit for The X Factor USA, where the focus is less on singing ability and more on that unknowable superstar quality that she herself has). But the decision to place both superstars on the same panel ended up being one of the worst possible decisions that could have been made.

I suppose the network was banking on either a) Mariah and Nicki having a winning rapport like the coaches on The Voice or b) tearing each other's hair out and making for Grade-A trainwreck TV. But what ended up happening wasn't so much fascinating or compelling as it was awkward and cringeworthy. It wasn't just that Mariah and Nicki didn't get along, it was that their contributions as individuals left a lot to be desired. Mariah was notorious for being routinely cut off by the music, since she wouldn't stop talking otherwise, following the Christina Aguilera model of "The Bigger the Star, The Longer They Think They Can Ramble Despite Saying Pretty Much Nothing of Value." And while Nicki was funny, irreverent, and quirky, she only rarely provided any genuine insight into the competition. Granted, the insight she did provide had me kind of wishing she'd return for a season in which she was out from under the shadow of Mariah and their ensuing feud, but I don't think it was enough to overcome just how weird the panel was, and how frequently Nicki and Mariah's personalities (and the resulting ego clash) dwarfed the competition itself. American Idol 12 is more likely to be remembered as "that awkward, uncomfortable season where Nicki Minaj and Mariah Carey were passive-aggressive to one another" and not as "that season where a girl broke the five-year win streak of guitar-playing white dudes." And that's a shame. Although I suppose it's better than being remembered as...

Credit: FOX

American Idol 12: This Year A Girl Is Going To Win, And You're Going To LIKE IT, DAMMIT!

I don't know how much of the decline of American Idol is attributable to the fact that White Guys With Guitars kept winning year after year, and how much of it is simply the normal wear-and-tear of a show that's been on the air for well over a decade. I mean, the show's highest-rated season was its eighth, and that was year #2 in the reign of WGWGs. Of course, a trend hadn't yet set in, but the show had other problems besides the fact that white guys kept winning: the esoteric themes (what's better than Neil Diamond Week? Why, yet another round of Leiber and Stoller Night, of course!), the bloated results shows, and the diminishing returns of a largely useless judging panel (has the show ever had a worse trio than Steven Tyler/J-Lo/Randy Jackson?). Yet the braintrust at FOX and American Idol somehow got it into their heads that the reason the show was on the decline was because audiences were sick of seeing females so marginalized in the competition.

So what happened next?

American Idol 12: A season reverse-engineered to give us a female winner.

And if that sounds a bit unfair to the considerable well of female talent that made it to the top 5 this year, I don't disagree. It's unfortunate that Candice Glover will have an invisible asterisk next to her name when people reference her as an American Idol winner. "Eh, she won, but she didn't really win. There was no competition!" And they would be right about that last part. Outside of Kree Harrison and Angie Miller, no other competitor this year ever presented any real threat to Candice's inevitable win, and that's because a wealth of great talent was dropped during Hollywood Rounds, cut during Vegas week, or bused during semifinals. Say what you will about Josh Holiday, but that was a guy the producers clearly didn't want getting through, as evidenced by the judges' critique of what had otherwise been one of the strongest of that night. David Oliver Willis suffered the same fate. The only white guys put through were non-threats to the title (Paul Jolley), and the only musicians put through were either women (Angie Miller, Janelle Arthur) or guys who seemed content never to show off that side of their talent (Devin Velez). This resulted in perhaps the worst group of finalists since Season 3, where Matt Rogers, John Stevens, and the awkward, Zoidberg-like crab dancing of Jon Peter Lewis plagued screens across America. Viewers tuned out in drovers for Season 12, recognizing a general lack of variety, and the absence of contestants they wanted to see.

Save for Angie and maybe Paul, this was a season split right down the middle between country and Pop/R&B. No rockers, no Kris Allen alt-rock or folk singers, no crooners. Just a fairly mild assortment of talent. This isn't to say the finalists weren't immensely talented in their own right, but rather that none of these finalists were going to draw new viewers, nor coax existing viewers to stay put. And worse still is how unsubtle the show was about its manipulation, given how hard it bused the guys in the early stages, and how hard they tried to make Amber Holcomb happen. But worst of all is the simple fact that, of all the seasons to engineer a female winner, this is perhaps the one season where they didn't actually need to. Even if guys like Josh Holliday, Johnny Keyser or Elijah Liu had gotten through, I'd argue we'd still have ended up with the final three we ended up getting. Hopefully, the show is a bit more hands-off in the future, since I just can't stand the amount of executive meddling involved.

Credit: NBC

The Million Second Quiz: "So There's This Hourglass in Midtown Manhattan, You See..."

One of the most hyped events on broadcast television this year was NBC's The Million Second Quiz, a game show with rules as irreducibly complex as the human circulatory system. Ryan Seacrest and NBC should probably be commended for taking a risk this big in the first place, but this isn't really about NBC's decision to develop and air this show: it's more about how they handled the show once it premiered. The series had all the potential in the world to be a ratings phenomenon, owing to a truly interactive format via the MSQ app, as well as the possibility that players at home could win a spot on the live show if their scores placed them high enough in the rankings. Hell, I played the MSQ online game, and it was addictive as hell. It was accessible but challenging, rigorous but not exhaustively so. It was a perfect little quiz distraction. But unfortunately, the show itself wasn't nearly as fun to watch as it was to play. In fact, I don't even think I played along at home once, given just how impenetrable the rules are.

The big problem here isn't that NBC created a nationwide quiz show, but rather that they created a nationwide quiz show that the average fan couldn't really understand. As one NBC executive famously told The Hollywood Reporter, "I work here, and I don't even get how it works." I can't possibly explain the show myself, so I'll leave it to Tim Goodman's hilarious takedown of the show via The Hollywood Reporter:

Million Second Quiz will apparently be on every night – perhaps a million nights, just like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire was – or until one of the contestants wins an ungodly amount of taxable cash or sleeps through his or her turn. What – didn’t I tell you about the beds? There are beds on this show. See, if you’re living on "Winner’s Row," you get your own cabana. Which appears to be outside on top of a huge building in New York, so be careful if you’re a sleepwalker.

The show is also live. It also has a bunch of people on the roof yelling along with Seacrest. It also has beds. I said that, right? It’s a game about “knowledge, strategy and endurance” according to the host. Yes, endurance. How much boredom you can take is not part of that equation, but should be. I could barely get through, well, less than 3,000 seconds of one night. But if you’re on the show, you need to be awake a lot and ready. You probably shouldn’t have contact lenses because that’s a surefire problem. Snoring is probably not a good idea. Bed-head is also something of a concern – I’m serious. They wake you up because the game never stops and if someone wins more money than you’ve made so far, they get your bed. No, really, they get your bed. Are you following this? Here, have a gigantic bong. Better?

So it looks like four people live on Winner’s Row – a combination of one of those small Japanese hotel pods and a circus wagon painted white. You get to be on Winner’s Row if you did well in the "Money Chair.” Now, the Money Chair sits inside “The Hourglass,” which is essentially the stage, shaped like – well, I’m not going to just tell you; press A, B, C or D and see if you win.

That's an impenetrable morass of poor-planning, particularly once the show started introducing Power Players, Doublers, and a whole mess of rules and strategies that the brought into the game before fans even had a hang of the basic skeleton of the show. It was a mess, and viewers didn't stick around to see the whole thing through, as the show last more than half its premiere audience between its debut date on Sept. 9 and the Sept. 14 airing. Given how few genuine hits the network has, this might have been a risk NBC had to take. But one would think that, with so much riding on this becoming a potential hit franchise, NBC might have taken greater care in developing a more inviting format.

Credit: A&E

Ducked Six Ways From Sunday: The Phil Robertson Fiasco

The whole mess surrounding Duck Dynasty star Phil Robertson's GQ interview, in which condemned homosexual behavior and likened it to bestiality, prompted A&E to do damage control. First, they suspended Robertson from Duck Dynasty indefinitely, then they issued a statement reading: "We are extremely disappointed to have read Phil Robertson's comments in GQ, which are based on his own personal beliefs and are not reflected in the series Duck Dynasty. His personal views in no way reflect those of A&E Networks, who have always been strong supporters and champions of the LGBT community. The network has placed Phil under hiatus from filming indefinitely."

Now look, I don't agree with what Robertson said. Not a single word. And his comments about slavery were equally preposterous. But I believe in his right to say what he believes, and to hold fast to his personal beliefs. Basically, the network took a show about country folk with a given set of values...and then acted surprised when a star of the show spoke his mind in support of those values. Given the backlash from fans of the show, and the media firestorm surrounding Robertson's defense by everyone from Sarah Palin to Mike Huckabee, and the condemnation of his comments from such outspoken activists as Jesse Jackson and Dan Savage, A&E found itself in a tough situation. The wiser course of action would have been to save face by simply leaving in the first two sentences of their initial statement, and excluding the third (in which Robertson is suspended). They were under no real obligation to suspend Robertson for saying something stupid, no matter how outrageously dumb those statements were.

Of course, Robertson's suspension did more than simply make the network look bad, it cast a fairly negative light on its viewership, given the sheer volume of death threats A&E reportedly received in the wake of the decision (although how you issue a death threat against a network is beyond me).

In fact, let me turn it over my good friend/fellow Rickey.org writer Joe Tranchina, with whom I discussed this earlier. He encapsulates everything that was wrong about the entire Duck Dynasty debacle far better than I ever could, commenting on the contrast between the screw-up by A&E, and the disconcerting reaction from the fanbase:

With Duck Dynasty, I think that all that scandal did was to expose A&E as either a sloppy, weak network or a blatantly contrived and shameless network. More importantly, I think it exposed the American public's sickening assumption that we are entitled to entertainment. We're not. Nobody is entitled to be entertained. The transaction is one episode of television for a small block of time. The public gives ratings/money and they get an episode. If the show goes away the next week, too bad. America isn't in contract with A&E. Jesus never went to the movies on a Friday night, so you don't have to either.

Ultimately, the fanbase got what it wanted, and Robertson has been reinstated. But did this really have to be such a big deal in the first place?

Credit: Nickelodeon

Legend of Que Hora?: Korra Scheduling Issues

One of the most underreported, yet most frustrating stories of the year has been Nickelodeon's cavalier approach to one of its best shows. After beginning season 2 in the 7:00 PM Friday time slot, The Legend of Korra was moved to 8:30 PM for reasons that still aren't entirely clear. One might imagine that Nick wanted to take advantage of the show's success by placing it in a more lucrative primetime slot for advertisers. But that doesn't really pass muster, as Nick continued to move the show around, giving it a tryout in the 8:00 PM Friday time slot for a few weeks, before sending it back to 8:30 PM. But now, it turns out the show will be moving back to Fridays at 8:00 PM permanently. Well, at least until the next time Nick decides to move it.

Viewership has eroded with each time slot changed, leading many to wonder about the long-term prospects for the show, and if a third season will even be a possibility at this point. Speculation is high that all these time slot changes are a last ditch attempt for Nickelodeon to solve the problem they created by moving it around in the first place. They're essentially trying to find a time slot where it'll work best, not recognizing that they're damaging the series by making it increasingly difficult for viewers to find it on their dial. The hotly-anticipated “Beginnings” episode only raked in 1.73 million viewers in October, and things haven't been nearly as encouraging since then.

It's uncertain what the future holds for The Legend of Korra, but given precedent, I'm not even sure I'd be surprised if Nick moved it off of Fridays and tried to find a better night for it. At this rate, no home seems permanent enough for it.

Credit: CBS

Bigot Brother: How the 15th Season Was A Mess CBS Wasn't Prepared For

I kind of sympathize with CBS. They were in a no-win situation the minute the live feeds of the Big Brother house picked up several of the house guests using bigoted, racist remarks. The network was initially reticent to actually air the offending remarks, but inevitably caved to public pressure...only to then face public outcry for airing the remarks in the first place. So this is probably the one decision on the list that isn't really the fault of the network, since the implication was that the racial incidents had a direct effect on the game, and needed to be aired eventually. Still, it doesn't change the fact that CBS then attempted to spin the comments and the buzz surrounding them into a hook to drive viewership. And while it's an approach that may have worked in the short term, I feel it could do long-term damage to the brand if Big Brother eventually gains a reputation of "That Racist Show," particularly if it continues to let such terrible people through the casting process. Prior to the July 14th episode, CBS ran this disclaimer:

Credit: CBS (Screencap via TVLine)

Of the cast members catching hell for their small-mindedness, Aaryn Gries and GinaMarie Zimmerman were the chief offenders. In the July 7 episode, Gries spoke derogatorily of house guest Helen Kim, saying the Asian-American should "go make some rice," and later said, "I look, probably, like a squinty Asian right now." She also directed a "queer" comment at Andy Herren, and flipped Candice Stewart's bed in a prank gone awry, saying, "Whatcha gonna do girl?" to the African-American house guest, before telling Candice if she wanted to see her "black come out."

Naturally, Gries and Zimmerman ended up evicted from the house, although not by CBS, but rather as a result of their lousy gamesmanship. In addition to losing the game, the highly-publicized comments cost the women their jobs, as is the natural order of things when you're a reality TV contestant who makes small-minded comments. Was it necessary for CBS to air the bigoted remarks? Well, it probably would have been disingenuous of the network to just sweep it under the rug and pretend nothing offensive had ever been said. However, the risk was evident the minute it aired that CBS would be viewed as a network attempting to use controversy to drive ratings. Ultimately, CBS would have been wise to simply air the comments, but without drawing attention to them, nor sending Julie Chen on the talk show circuit to discuss the controversy as a means of promoting the season. There's turning lemons into lemonade, and there's profiting from ignorance. CBS walked a very thin tightrope, in that regard.

Credit: FOX

La Fin: Glee explores grief, and hits uncomfortably close to home

Losing Cory Monteith was one of the year's most heartbreaking tragedies, and it quickly developed into one of the most peculiar TV stories of the year when it was announced that Glee would be doing a tribute episode to Monteith and his character, Finn Hudson. Many speculated on whether the show would address how he died, and whether Monteith's real-life girlfriend, Lea Michele, would appear in the episode.

When “The Quarterback” inevitably aired, the episode was unmistakably poignant and devastating...but also really uncomfortable. I can understand that this was part of the grieving process, and that no one was forced to participate in the episode, but it felt strangely voyeuristic at times, like I was watching these actors in private moments of grief. I didn't buy that anyone in that episode was acting. It was the genuine outpouring of emotion, of completely unfettered, raw grief as filtered through a narrative that couldn't ever completely correlate to what really happened, since it's a fictional world overlapping the real one. I find myself wishing they had just said Finn moved away, or perhaps offered some other excuse for why Monteith's character had left the show. As disingenuous as it might have been to pretend nothing had happened, I feel there would have been something truly poignant in the idea that even though Cory died, Finn would still be out there somewhere living all the years Cory didn’t get to.

Of course, I get why Ryan Murphy and co. did things the way they did. Once again, it would have been more than a bit disingenuous to simply pretend nothing had happened, but then it’s also a little disingenuous to just say “he died” and never really engage with what happened or why – they’re conflating the character with the actor in a way that was uncomfortable. With that said, there was really no perfect way to do this. Ryan Murphy and FOX were put in a completely untenable position, and nothing they could have done would have satisfied everyone, even if they’d opted not to do anything at all. But I still can't help but feel as though there was a more tactful way in which this could have been approached. This was certainly among the most polarizing TV events of the year, with people decrying FOX promoting the episode so heavily, as if attempting to take the death of a real person and spin it into a win for the network. Even the release of teaser promos and posters for the episode online, as well as the episode soundtrack, felt unsettling and uncanny. But at least proceeds from the soundtrack went to charity. This is very far from the most questionable decision made on TV this year, but I felt it warranted inclusion, as controversial as it may end up being.

Credit: FOX

Brian Griffin: Canine Jesus

It's kind of surprising to find that anyone truly believed Brian Griffin would remain dead after Family Guy killed him off in November's "Life of Brian" episode. But that's exactly what happened, with diehard fans swearing off the show, and signing petitions to have Brian reinstated. When he was resurrected two episodes later -- in the holiday special, "Christmas Guy" -- fans felt vindicated...except the decision didn't really have anything to do with them. Since Family Guy episodes take an obscene amount of time to produce, Brian's death and resurrection had already been conceived, written and animated months before the new season even went to air. And so it was that Brian returned, allowing fans to breathe a sigh of relief. But why do it in the first place? Turns out, Seth MacFarlane intended the storyline to be a teachable moment for the audience:

While the decision to take a narrative risk was admirable, MacFarlane and FOX had to know how the fanbase would respond. Even with Brian coming back, the entire situation just smacks of contempt for the show's audience. Sure, plenty of fans believed Brian would return from the minute he died, but just as many fans ended up feeling jerked around by the show, having their years of loyal viewership rewarded with unnecessary emotional manipulation. While that's part of what TV does, this just felt completely needless. Hopefully for MacFarlane, the Family Guy brand isn't permanently damaged by the stunt. At least not anymore than it already is by descending deeper and deeper into excessive depravity and self-parody.

Dishonorable Mentions

Credit: Showtime

Although I said I wouldn't include any storyline decisions, I'm making an exception for the series finale of Dexter. I honestly can't see any network honestly signing off on that decision and thinking it'd be well-received. Without getting into spoilers for people trying to catch up, the series essentially ends with a massive, nonsensical thud that seriously damages whatever shot at a less-than-infamous legacy the show had.

Credit: NBC

I also couldn't see NBC's rationale behind bringing CeeLo Green back to The Voice after the success of Usher and Shakira on Season 4. Well, actually, that's not entirely true. I get that NBC wanted to use the "the old gang reunited!" angle,
and I also understand that Usher and Shakira probably just weren't available for the fall. And hey, maybe people actually like CeeLo, feeling comfortable with an old presence with which they're familiar. But that doesn't really excuse just how marginal and unnecessary CeeLo was on The Voice Season 5. Even the producers seemed to go out of their way to prevent him from being featured, as he would occasionally be robbed of the chance to actually say anything in a given episode, particularly once his entire team was knocked out of the competition. He always came across as the fourth wheel, of sorts, and this season made that clearer than ever. I almost feel bad for him, but then I remember some of the song choices he saddles people with, and my sympathy evaporates.

So what do you think we the worst decisions made by a major TV network in 2013? Sound off in the comments!

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