Don’t feel bad about bingeing TV. Humans have binged stories for thousands of years

Last night, millions of people will have tuned into Netflix and other streaming services to binge their favourite shows, including the (much anticipated) second part of Bridgerton season three.

Streaming services such as Netflix, Disney+, Stan and Prime Video have habituated us to the “all at once” series drop. And even as some services try to find ways to break the binge model, many commentators have bid farewell to the “the good old days” of appointment viewing.

Meanwhile, experts have highlighted the health concerns associated with “problematic bingeing”, including increased anxiety and depression.

But there’s an important detail missing in these conversations. And that is the fact that bingeing – the act of unrestrained and excessive indulgence – is nothing new. In fact, it exemplifies an age-old human desire to be completely immersed in story.

Far from being a new behaviour spawned by the digital age, bingeing is rooted in human history.

An ancient practice

Much like you might binge Baby Reindeer, Eric or The Walking Dead today, humans have always sought absorbing narrative experiences.

Before writing emerged, ancient oral storytelling captivated people across cultures, providing entertainment, knowledge transmission and cultural education.

Research published last year suggests Palawa Aboriginal stories from Tasmania can be traced back to events that happened 12,000 years ago, which means they may be among the oldest recorded oral stories in the world. Stories that survive hundreds of generations require constant telling and retelling.

This engagement with stories continued with the advent of written text. For millennia, large text collections has allowed immersive consumption, with examples ranging from the Panchatantra – a compilation of Indian fables dated to around 200BC – to volumes of William Shakespeare’s plays from the 1600s.

Historically, libraries, galleries and museums played a significant role in providing access to large collections of works, including books, as well as artworks and artefacts.

Eventually, the invention of the printing press revolutionised access to texts. Evidence suggests that by the 18th century, avid readers in England (that is, the upper class who could afford books) would devour novels in public or by candlelight – unable to stop until the story ended.

Literature researcher Ana Vogrinčič suggests a sort of “moral panic” emerged as the women of the time got a taste for reading:

reading in bed by the candlelight was believed to risk conflagration, while women laughing out loud over a certain scene or wobbling in emotions over another, in indecent body postures, regularly incited an offensive language, resulting in a heavily stigmatised and stereotyped image of a female novel-reader – a precursor of a modern coach potato. The reading sofa and the television couch certainly represent what 18th-century novel-reading and modern-day television-viewing seem to have in common.

Serialised literature became popular in the 19th century, with more and more writers releasing their work in instalments.

Eventually, the rise of cinema and television provided a new form of immersive storytelling. Access to home videos meant back-to-back viewing, while film screenings and double features mirrored older communal entertainment forms such as public readings and theatre attendances.

Hooked on a feeling

While bingeing has been around for as long as anyone can remember, the internet and streaming have both significantly increased our capacity for it. Perhaps this is why bingeing is framed as a modern phenomenon.

Creators must now design shows with the binge-watching model in mind, using cliffhangers, escapism and continuous arcs to encourage prolonged viewing. All of these factors (and more) combine to make a “bingeable” show.