No Deal

Viewing NBC's new game show Deal or No Deal offers further evidence that the decline of Western Civilization is accelerating. While initially fascinated by the statistics and probabilities that are integral to the show, this emotion quickly gave way to the more overwhelming feeling of shame.

Shame that the Bread and Circuses in American society today are converging at a quickening pace.

Many years ago, when television was still in it's infancy and America was a net exporter and creditor to the world, What's My Line entertained the populace (a Mark Goodson and Bill Todman production - one of many).

Celebrity panelists tried to guess the occupation of contestants who would win a small cash prize if they were successful in stumping the panelists after a series of yes or no questions. It was entertaining and it was all in good fun.

Times sure have changed.

Back in 1999 when Who Wants to be a Millionaire debuted in the U.S., at least contestants had to answer questions. There was some skill involved - not completely a game of chance.

And, on Survivor, people actually get injured and vomit and otherwise become physically unable to continue in the competition.

NBC's Deal or No Deal has dumbed down prime time game shows to levels few could have imagined while at the same time offering huge sums of money and plenty of excitement.

It is strictly a game of chance, with a focus on the emotions experienced by a family making joint decisions involving sums of money that are multiples of the median family income.

If a contestant is lucky enough to make it onto the show and get selected as a contestant, they pick numbers and then make decisions to either take the $90,000 currently offered or risk it on maybe winning the half million.

Just by picking numbers - randomly.

With each round, the calculation changes - take the $68,000 or the shot at a quarter million.

Those familiar with games of chance will quickly deduce that all the offers coming down from the mysterious banker on the second floor are cold, hard calculations based on probabilities and the business plan for the television program.

[For some odd reason the mysterious banker is seen reviewing a print-out of something, when in fact all he really needs to do is punch in a few numbers on his PC and hit return.]

The excitement is all about the reaction of the family when confronted with decisions involving life-changing amounts of cash.

Bold or conservative, risk-taker or risk averse. In either case, the family must be animated. The populace must be entertained.

[As the holidays near, it is imperative that we offer something positive in this space - we will see what can be done in the coming days.]

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UPDATE (8:12 AM PST)

Slate has this to say:

When last a prime-time game show became a national sensation, the year was 1999, the Nasdaq index was doing ridiculous things, and Regis Philbin was spawning an appallingly viral catchphrase ("Is that your final answer?!"). Who Wants To Be a Millionaire was the right circus at the right time; a little knowledge and nerve could bring Joe Average a lot of dough. Deal or No Deal, which debuted to strong ratings on Monday night and runs all this week (NBC, 8 p.m. ET), is the opposite of a quiz show and does not require even the modest deductive skills of Wheel of Fortune. Its central theme is self-restraint.

Each contestant ascends to the Deal or No Deal stage to stand opposite 26 models in identical cocktail dresses—Barker's Beauties by way of Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" babes—each of them bearing a briefcase with a different dollar figure inside. The contestant selects one of the cases. There could be a penny or a million bucks or any of 24 figures in between; none of us will know until the end of the game, which is an exercise in game theory. The contestant opens the remaining briefcases, a few at a time, to find that hers was not the one with $5 or $500,000 or whatever within. Based on the dollar figures removed from contention, "the Bank," the shadowy embodiment of a mathematical model, relays "offers" through Mandel. The Bank will give the contestant a wad of cash in exchange for her chosen case. Will the player opt for the none-too-shabby guaranteed sum or take her chances? Deal or no deal? These offers fluctuate with the apparent odds. The contestant walks away with a jackpot or chump change or perhaps a midrange sum good enough for buying a new sedan.

Despite that twisty description—and despite its appropriation of Millionaire's ominous synthesizers and Star Trek's set design—Deal or No Deal is clean and minimal. Though it does a fine job of building tension slowly, I suspect that it has become a smash hit in more than 30 countries because it is good to yell at. In concert with the studio audience, you get to berate the contestants as they succumb to temptation and push their luck or bless them for checking their greed. If the show takes off, America will have discovered a new spectator sport: caution.