Like many others, I am currently obsessed with “Dancing with the Stars.” I tune in every Tuesday at 8 p.m. sharp, ready to watch the dances of the week, send in my text votes and cheer on my favorite celebrities.
However, as a longtime fan, I’ve noticed a surge in discussion around the show in these recent seasons. During and after the show, I can open any social media app, whether it’s Instagram, TikTok or even Facebook, and my feed will be flooded with discussions about the show. People offer their opinions on the dances of the week, discuss who went home (versus who should have gone home) and fawn over the heartthrob of the season — this year’s being Robert Irwin.
The obsession goes beyond just these online discussions, with people holding “DWTS” fantasy brackets and bars hosting weekly watch parties.
While I love the show, this shift in the fandom is extremely tangible and a little concerning. To me, it seems as though many are using “Dancing with the Stars” as a substitute for genuine community, finding connection through entertainment rather than in spaces detached from technology.
This kind of fandom-fueled community isn’t limited to “DWTS.” These same sorts of watch parties have also popped up for other reality shows like “Love Island” and even fictional series like “The Summer I Turned Pretty.”
Outside of the TV world, similar fan communities have long formed around sports teams, with fantasy leagues and Super Bowl parties, and artists. For instance, the Swiftie community is a force to be reckoned with, holding album listening sessions and music video release parties. Entertainment has become a pillar, one of the few reliable ways an individual can feel they are a part of something bigger than themselves.
Watch parties, in a way, represent our attempt to bring these online communities into real life — a way to reclaim some of the connection that digital spaces promise but can’t quite deliver. However, because these fandom communities are built around content rather than genuine connection, they rarely lead to the kind of mutual care that defines true community.
In many ways, the fandom community has replaced third places, or locations meant for socialization. These places are spots to hang and chat with friends, not home nor work but something in between — coffee shops, parks, libraries and more. But these places are beginning to disappear. Americans once spent up to six and a half hours a week with friends in these spaces, but between 2014 and 2019, that number dropped to just four hours, and it has likely continued to fall since then.
Much of this decline can be credited to social media, which creates the illusion of interconnectedness. Additionally, on-demand streaming has allowed us to find pastimes outside of third places.
However, despite our online connections, we are in the midst of a loneliness epidemic, creating a confusing paradox. We are more connected than ever through social media, but this is not fulfilling the same sense of community that third places d.
Thus, while these online communities and fandoms we build may feel like we are truly connecting with other like-minded individuals, they do not satisfy our needs for third places, even if they seem to. Digital platforms cannot replace the essence of sharing physical experiences, encounters laced with spontaneity and sensory engagement, such as spending time with another in person. Additionally, these digital interfaces are so interlinked with the first and second places — home and work — that they can never truly be a third place. As I argued in a previous column [HYPERLINK: https://www.bupipedream.com/opinions/binghamton-must-actively-reconnect-with-its-diverse-past-2/160940/], digital communication cannot replace face-to-face interactions in improving quality of life.
While watch parties may utilize the third place logic — transforming bars, lounges and living rooms into shared spaces filled with laughter and shared anticipation for a few hours — once the credits roll, that energy begins to burn out. The community dissolves as quickly as it was formed, revealing how fragile connection can be when it depends on a screen.
Still, the popularity of these watch parties points to something important — the desire for connection hasn’t completely disappeared. People still want to gather, celebrate and belong to a community. We just need more spaces to do so without relying on a broadcast schedule to bring us together. Perhaps the enthusiasm we bring to a “Dancing with the Stars” watch party can be channeled into a student club, a local event or even a community meetup at a park.
We can still create successful third places — we just need to take creative approaches to make them work.
Our fascination with fandoms doesn’t have to be a symptom of isolation — it can be a reminder of what we’re missing and a guide toward rebuilding the communal life we crave. And we can still hold those watch parties and online discussion forums — the “DWTS” season finale is quickly approaching, and I’m excited to see what other fans think of the result — but they cannot replace true connection in our lives.
So yes, I’ll still be tuning in every Tuesday at 8 p.m., phone in hand, ready to vote for my favorite dancer, but I’ll also keep looking for ways to build the kind of connection that lasts long after the music fades.
Danica Lyktey, a sophomore majoring in psychology and philosophy, politics and law, is a Pipe Dream opinions intern.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.