Competency Porn
Today marks one week since The Pitt finale left me in tears. Watching the battered and beaten Dr. Robby comfort an abandoned baby and repeat the words “You’ve got so many wonderful things to see and so many people to love ahead of you,” perhaps more to himself than the baby, could make the Stoics cry. The Pitt is the best show on television right now for a hundred reasons—the writing, the casting of talented unknowns, the commitment to excruciating medical detail—but it is also delivering on a sociological front. It is a show, simply put, about good people being good at their jobs. It is competency porn.
“Competency porn” is a phrase that has recently risen in popularity to describe media that portrays competent characters excelling at what they do, therefore, giving audiences a sense of comfort or satisfaction. If you’re familiar with “disaster porn,” it’s the exact opposite of that. Instead of watching YouTube compilations of plane crashes to indulge some sick craving within yourself, you can watch fictional doctors on TV swiftly and sympathetically save a patient from the brink of death, which is probably better for the soul. The media critic, Jada Yuan, breaks down the phenomenon in an article for The Washington Post. She writes, “There is something comforting about spending time with very smart, well-intentioned people.”
Since the dawn of television, audiences have wanted to see competency on screen. The first major TV programs were police procedurals about charming detectives who outwitted criminals, like Dragnet and Columbo—an attractive draw for viewers who felt law and order was less obtainable in real life. In that regard, competency porn isn’t new. Why do you think Law & Order: SVU has remained on air for 27 years? Where the real NYPD fails, Olivia Benson succeeds. We know it’s fiction, we know Olivia Benson doesn’t exist, but the trust built between the show and the audience is genuine.
What’s new is the proliferation of competency porn. Over the past fifteen years, the supply and demand of reassuring media has skyrocketed so much that a specific term needed to be coined in order to describe it. We need such comforts now more than ever. It’s not just The Pitt and the Law & Order universe—it’s Project Hail Mary, the new Ryan Gosling movie about saving the earth, it’s Abbott Elementary, it’s The Diplomat. If this new wave of media reveals anything about our culture, it’s that we are craving figures of authority who are capable and efficient, yet empathetic. That is, people we can trust. It’s not entirely wish fulfillment because these shows aim to stay grounded in reality. Dr. Robby, Olivia Benson, and Janine Teagues aren’t perfect, but they’re trying their very best, earning our trust more by the minute.
Noah Wyle, Dr. Robby himself, explains the draw of The Pitt (and this genre at large) in a recent GQ interview: “‘You’re watching really smart, dedicated people do what only they know how to do at a level that you don’t know how to do it, and you’re so fucking glad that they’re there doing it, and compartmentalizing their own stuff to put your broken pieces back together. You’re so reassured by knowing that there are people out there that laugh and joke and have the ability to lock in like that.’”
Art holds a mirror up to society yada yada yada, but it is also a salve. Living through a moment where those with great power shirk every iota of responsibility, where it feels like a disaster of epic proportions is lurking around every corner, it is no wonder millions of viewers are seeking stories showcasing goodness, accountability, and capability. It’s a positive sign. I have to believe what begins as a trivial television preference can eventually translate to a political or cultural demand.
Author’s Note: I tried so hard to work West Wing into this piece, but I couldn’t find a way in without completely derailing my point. I’m sharing this for no other reason than to elicit praise for showing restraint and commitment to a goal. In many ways, watching West Wing in the year 2026 is the most indulgent kind of competency porn because the show’s politics, spirit, and morality feel borderline fantastical now. Our current reality is more akin to Shonda Rhimes’s Scandal than Sorkin’s West Wing. Anyway, maybe I’ll expound upon my love for West Wing and, more specifically, Josh Lyman another time. Or maybe I’ll get a therapist.