Cult Television and Functionalism

Several months ago, the BBC ran a special on the cult classic television program, Doctor Who.  The purpose of this special program was not to air a new episode, but to announce the identity of the Twelfth Doctor.  This event, as it gathered a massive crowd from around the globe and incited rounds of bets and polls as people speculated on an event that was jokingly referred to as the “geek version of the Pope announcement.”  Not two months later, the same television show set a world record for the largest simulcast episode in the history of television.  This was a monumental day in the show’s history, as it marked the fiftieth anniversary of the first episode.  And all of this made me wonder why this show had garnered such a devoted cult following, comprised of people who had seen all seven-hundred episodes and those who had only watched since the reboot.

What is interesting about this phenomenon is that it is almost entirely devoid of hierarchy or structure.  Instead, the passion is cultivated at the individual level, rather than in groups.  Only rarely does the so called “fandom community” gather together in a show of solidarity as they obsess over a fifty year old television show with an obvious lack of a special effects budget.  Even the production team for the show and the actors are not held in immense regard, and are more or less referred to as members of the fan community.

And in wondering about the fandom culture surrounding this cult television show, I started examining it from the perspective of functionalism.

The show in and of itself satisfies very few basic physiological needs, which reside at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, upon which part of functionalism is based.  There is no nourishment or physical shelter to be found in the television show or in the community, though one could argue that the episodes do fulfill a need for relaxation.  The fandom, however, does manage to cover secondary needs such as social interaction and acceptance, as well as lesser needs such as entertainment.  The show itself is about love and exploration, about meeting new people and learning from them.  But mostly it is about being human and being accepted in that humanness.

As a friend of mine once told me, “The whole point of the show is being alone.  We’ve all felt that at some point.  The Doctor is the only one like himself in the universe, and every now and then he meets someone who’s like him.”  Maybe then that’s why the show has been going on so long.  Fans desire to keep it going because of that relatability.  Because maybe, when they walk into a room and see another person wearing a fez and bowtie or a many-coloured scarf or a vest with question marks, they realize that someone else out there is just as geeky as they are.  In contributing to the longest-running science fiction show in history, they have managed to create their own society and subcultural movement that fulfills a human need for interaction, acceptance, and, of course, entertainment.