This is the fourth and final installment of my four-part series on the Discovery Channel show Venom Hunters. In Parts I, II and III, I explain how the show started from a flawed premise, and went downhill from there, seemingly including breaking laws and staging scenes. In Part IV, I explain why it matters that Discovery Channel and Authentic Entertainment are held accountable.
In May, Discovery made the official decision not to continue Venom Hunters into a second season. Even though the show won’t go on, it’s important to still reflect upon the legacy of the short six-episode series, especially with Discovery’s annual Shark Week kicking off on Sunday.
Not surprisingly, though the professional venom community almost universally condemns how their field is portrayed in Venom Hunters, they are more mixed in their feelings about the show’s ultimate impacts. “I do see some positives to it,” Nathaniel Frank told me when I asked him for his opinion, “but I also see a lot of negatives.” In particular, he was put off by the way the show implied venoms are field-collected. “There’s people now that think they can grab a dirty wine glass with a ziploc bag tied over the top of it and go out on their property and extract from a bunch of copperheads and make a hundred grand, and that’s just not how it works.”
This is Part III of a four-part series on the Discovery Channel show Venom Hunters, and the apparent bad behavior of the network, production company, and cast members involved. Parts I and II revealed how the production company pursued a flawed premise against the advice of several venom professionals, and then probably faked or staged scenes and storylines to promote that premise. In this post, I look at whether the stars were permitted or licensed properly in the states they were filmed.
I can assume the scene above in Venom Hunters’ opening credits was in part meant to build the drama, and in part, to dissuade people from copying the show’s dangerous antics. But perhaps it would have been less ironic if there was evidence that all of the cast members on the show obtained the proper permits for their activities.
In the United States, the permits and licenses required to legally collect and extract venom from native species for sale or scientific research are considered public records, so I contacted the various state regulatory agencies in states where snakes were collected for the show (Arizona, California, Georgia, Florida, Oklahoma, and Texas) and asked 1) whether permits were required to collect and sell venom from native species or collect and sell the snakes themselves and 2) whether the venom hunters that were depicted collecting in their state had those permits. Continue reading “From Unethical to Unlawful? Reality Bites Part III”
This is Part II of a four-part series on the Discovery Channel show Venom Hunters and the apparent bad behavior of the network, production company, and cast members involved. In Part I, I revealed how the show failed to get actual venom producers as stars due to their commitment to an inaccurate premise. Now I examine what seems to be flagrant falsification, something Discovery promised they weren’t going to do anymore.
Perhaps in part to reinforce the idea that the cast members were professionals who collect venom as their “day job,” in every episode of Venom Hunters, the audience is told that the hunters are out to “fill an order” or a “contract” for the venom from a certain number of snakes (or the snakes themselves, for one team). For example, we are first introduced to Ed Chapman and Justin Bottrell in Dead Lakes, Florida, where Ed tells the camera: “I got a call from one of the labs that they need three cottonmouths. I don’t like collecting cottonmouths; they’re feisty, they’re aggressive, and if you’re in the water and they go down, you don’t know where they’re at. But the lab needs these snakes for antivenom. Ultimately, if the end result can be saving a life, we’re gonna give it our best shot.”
Screen shots of the show’s claims for how the venom collected could save thousands of lives—except that it’s likely none of it went to producing antivenom.
In each episode, once the snakes are caught, we get a quick reminder of the numbers: how much venom the snake(s) produced, how many doses of antivenom that amount makes, and how many lives will be supposedly saved. But to those who work in the venom industry, the idea that the teams were fulfilling orders for the venoms from three individuals of local, abundant species, especially if the venom was “for antivenom,” is simply ludicrous. Continue reading “Lies, Damned Lies, and Venom Hunter Contracts: Reality Bites Part II”
This is Part I of a four-part series on the Discovery Channel show Venom Hunters and the apparent bad behavior of the network, production company, and cast members involved. Stay tuned for more.
“I think the excuse that it’s just TV is bullshit. It’s just TV that hurts the animals, hurts people, and dumbs down science,” Jim Harrison said with quiet anger. It was clear he’s no fan of one of Discovery Channel’s newest reality shows, Venom Hunters. Jim Harrison, the director of the Kentucky Reptile Zoo, has collected venoms for scientific research and antivenom development for decades. He’s one of the most experienced and well-known professionals in the venom business, and he, like many who work with venomous animals for a living, has spoken out on social media against the show.
Jim and I were sitting at a table during one of the breaks on the last full day of Venom Week, joined by several other distinguished members of the venomous reptile community. Carl Barden, director of the Reptile Discovery Center in Florida, sat to my left, his lips slightly pursed as Jim explained his objections. “People are going to go and over-collect, and they have no husbandry skills, so snakes are going to die. And then there are going to be bites, because they don’t know what they’re doing,” Jim said.
“You think it’s going to go that far?” Carl asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
“I do,” Jim replied sternly. “They’re already doing it. We’re already getting calls and emails, people trying to sell us venom, trying to sell us snakes.”
Rich kept his promise, delivering a Shark Week that even softened the heart of the scientist dubbed its biggest critic, David Shiffman. In a public statement on his Facebook page, the PhD candidate at the University of Miami said he was “very pleased with the improvements this year.”
“There was a much higher focus on science and biodiversity, and greatly reduced fearmongering and pseudoscience. Some of the shows from this year will inspire kids to become scientists or conservationists, and I won’t have to correct misconceptions caused by this year’s programming when I speak to schoolchildren over the coming months!” (see his detailed reviews of each show here)
Even the ads were better, if you ask me: in place of the sexist, sensationalized chum spot from last year was this lovely beach scene, completely devoid of blood and gore:
Shark Week is over, and as the week has progressed, the flood of negative press about Discovery’s favorite time of the year has weakened to a trickle. Instead, news organizations are talking about how well Discovery did this year in spite of the backlash. Shark Week “set records” say the headlines, and it’s no shock: given the increased sponsorship and the two-hour uptick in programming, Shark Week 2014 should have beaten 2013 with its fins tied behind its back. But guess what? It actually didn’t.
Discovery’s done just about all they can to spin the past week positively. “The King of Summer reigned with Discovery earning its highest-rated SHARK WEEK ever in its 27-year history,” begins Discovery’s most recent press release. The statement is so bold and so confident that one might miss the phrase “across several key demos” which immediately follows. A closer examination of the release reveals that the “good news” is riddled with caveats, in stark contrast to 2013’s version, which unabashedly bragged about being “the most-watched SHARK WEEK in the event’s 26 year history across all key demos” (emphasis mine). And even 2013 was trying to trump up the facts—it was only the second most-watched Shark Week ever in terms of total viewers.
The hard numbers are simple. In 2013, Shark Week drew in an average of 2,106,000 viewers during primetime programming. In 2014, Shark Week only garnered 6,000 more, even though they had 2 more hours of new specials and increased PR. In their key age demographic—18 to 49 year olds—there were 68,000 fewer viewers on average during primetime. Even if you look at the entire day, this year didn’t do better. In 2013, the total-day average for Discovery during Shark Week was 1,048,000 viewers—in 2014, that dropped to 1,035,000. Overall, it was only the third best Shark Week to date with 42 million total viewers, behind the 62.1 million viewers that tuned in for 2010 and 51 million viewers that watched in 2013. A 9 million viewer drop is not insignificant, especially when you have 2 more hours of time that you’ve produced to draw them in.
Discovery highlights the few ways that 2014 did better—but a straight up comparison shows it struggled.
If you compare 2013 and 2014 Shark Weeks by day and time slot, a pattern emerges. Let’s start with Day 1: Sunday night is Discovery’s kick-off evening, and it was the night that Discovery aired the notorious Megalodon mockumentary last year. The fake footage seen round the world reeled in 4.8 million viewers, a good chunk of which then took to Discovery’s Facebook and Twitter to complain. Discovery decided to ignore the strong pushback and began 2014 on a similar note with Shark of Darkness, another 2 hour special focusing on a legendary shark that doesn’t existusing made-up events and fake footage to sell the story. Fool us once, shame on you, Discovery. Try to fool us twice, and you’ll net one million fewer viewers.
The rest of the week, Discovery was mostly unable to keep up with 2013’s viewership. Though the Shark After Dark talk show fared slightly better in 2013 (up 3%, according to Discovery), most of the programming lost little or lost big. The one notable exception was Alien Sharks 2, which netted more than 340,000 more viewers than the 2013 program that shared its timeslot, Spawn of Jaws. As the most science-based program of the week, Alien Sharks not only didn’t play into the fear-based hype of programs like Sharkageddon, it was the only show that didn’t focus on big, “scary” sharks (in other words, it was the only show that focused on the sharks that make up the vast majority of shark species).
Discovery’s viewers voted with their TVs, trying to send a clear message that science-heavy programming is what they want. That message is even clearer when you compare how the original Alien Sharks from 2013 did against the program in its time slot: Sharkageddon, arguably the most unscientific, fear-based program that Discovery Shark Week has ever created. Even with the hyperbolic title and promise to explain ‘the recent spike of shark attacks in Hawaii,’ Sharkageddon only drew in 2.4 million viewers, making it one of the least-watched programs of the year—over 700,000 viewer less than the same day and time reeled in last year with Alien Sharks.
But perhaps the most impressive PR spin was Discovery’s packaging of Shark Week’s social media coverage. Discovery was quick to point out that Shark Week “generated 70 primetime Trending Topics on Twitter over 7 days” and that “13 million people had more than 21 million interactions” on Facebook “marking the strongest year ever online”. Never mind that the Twitter buzz they bragged so much about was way down from last year according to Upwell—Discovery also glossed over the fact that the sentiment of this conversation was far from positive. A shocking 40% of social media mentions of Shark Week were negative, while an embarrassing 11% were positive, a recent analysis by the social media monitoring company Sysomos shows.
I guess Discovery is hoping that any social media mention is good social media mention? Image from Sysomos’ Blog
Discovery claimed their new approach to programming (read: fear-driven and fake) was designed to “appease a different audience”. Instead, they’ve pissed off a large chunk of their current one, and there’s no evidence that this new and different demographic is tuning in.
Not that Discovery is paying attention.
“Everyone is absolutely thrilled,” Michael Sorensen, Discovery’s vice president of development and production, told The LA Times just this week. “It shows you how engaged the ‘Shark Week’ fans are as we keep making it bigger and bigger.” I guess if by “engaged” he meant “outraged”, then perhaps Michael has a point. Shark Week fans are ‘engaging’ more and more through social media, telling Discovery just how little they appreciate the way they are lied to and manipulated. But the more Discovery ignores their comments, tweets, and posts, the less they will ‘engage’ at all.
So what will happen to Shark Week?
It’s hard to say. Discovery’s audience has tried to let them know that science trumps fear, and they’re sick of the same old ‘sharks are scary’ schtick. Yet at the same time, Discovery is going to find it’s hard to make science-based documentaries considering that Discovery has made a habit of betraying scientists’ trust, which means fewer and fewer will be willing to take the risk of working with them in the future. Besides, those scientists will be too busy fighting the array of myths about sharks that Shark Week has created to film incredible TV programs, especially considering that for all their talk of conservation, Shark Week doesn’t increase donations to shark research or conservation efforts (“It’s not easy to get people to rally around a creature that they’re conditioned to be afraid of” explains shark biologist Chris Lowe).
Meanwhile, Discovery seems hellbent on pretending that there’s nothing wrong on either front.
So my prediction? Shark Week 2015 will be even worse than 2014. There will be “more hours!” that will include more faked footage, more actors or waitresses portrayed as scientists, more fear, more hype, and more hyperbole. Discovery will continue to bluster on about how awesome they’re doing while scientists shake their fists and viewers do the only thing they can do to be heard: change the channel. We’ll just have to see if, after next year, Discovery will listen to them.
Thursday night, I sat down with more than 15 scientists to watch Shark Week. Most of them don’t watch the annual spectacle—they’ve become embittered after years of Discovery’s fear mongering, mockumentaries, and lies. But this particular episode was different—it was all about our home, Hawaii. We all wondered how the sharks that roam our islands’ waters would be portrayed, and we joked about how many times we’d hear ominous music or see blood in the water. We wouldn’t have been so jovial if we knew what was in store.
I would argue that Sharkageddon is the worst Shark Week special this year, perhaps even to date. At least with the mockumentaries, there was the expectation that the audience would understand they were fake, even if that expectation was wildly off. Megalodon and Shark of Darkness carry disclaimers saying that the events were dramatized and that there is “debate”. Sharkageddon, on the other hand, is billed as truth. It pretends to lay out the facts and be a documentary. And it isn’t. Almost everything said in the hour-long program is wrong.
I won’t go into how the shark “danger scale” is ridiculous at best (cookie cutter sharks a “5”? Not unless that’s the lowest number!). I’m even going to gloss over the poor reenactments full of threatening music that make it look like sharks magically sneak up on their victims in crystal clear water (hint: that’s not what it looks like during shark attacks). Instead, I’m going to focus on false statements that were delivered as if they were cold, hard facts, and how Discovery used shady filming tactics to try and convince the world that Hawaii is in the midst of a Sharkageddon.
FACT: There is no evidence that shark attacks in Hawaii are on the rise.
It’s the third day of Shark Week, and Discovery has already come under fire for their programming choices. Their big special on kick-off night—Shark of Darkness: The Wrath of Submarine—turned out to be another fake documentary, making up people and events to perpetuate the idea that a 30+ ft long great white patrols the coast of South Africa. The legend of Submarine is a particularly fishy topic choice, as its origin can be traced to the 1970s when some journalists decided to make up a story to see how gullible their readers were. Yet again, the all-too-quick disclaimer failed to let a good chunk of the audience in on the charade, resulting in a spike in tweets like this:
Don’t understand why I watch shark week because it just makes me 10x more scared of the water than I already am — Danielle (@daniellejene) August 12, 2014
Shark week always makes me more scared of sharks — Christian Villalon (@christianv2328) August 11, 2014
This submarine shark got me all sorts of scared about going into the ocean again. — Samantha Kramer (@SamanthaKramer1) August 11, 2014
Tonight kicks off Shark Week, the longest-running television event in history. As readers of this blog know, many scientists (myself included) have become critical of Discovery’s beloved television event, criticizing their PR tactics, shark attack fearmongering, and overall lack of facts, science and conservation throughout the week.
Though the concerns have been brewing for the past decade or so, last year’s ‘documentary’ on C. megalodon shoved the Shark Week science—or lack thereof—into the national media spotlight. Discovery believes they did nothing wrong with presenting “one of the most debated shark discussions of all time“, however, scientists and viewers alike protested loudly about the special on and offline to the point that CNN and other major news stations covered the controversy. Supporting the notion that ‘any press is good press’, last year’s Shark Week was the most viewed of all time.
@WhySharksMatter we have more hours than ever before and most are the factual ones you enjoy.
This year, Discovery claims they have responded to the strong public and media backlash. Laurie Goldberg, executive vice president of public relations for Discovery, tweeted to explain that concerns over the scientific content of this year’s Shark Week are unfounded, as “most” of the programming is fact-based. Curious if that is true, I pulled up Discovery’s day-by-day plan and examined the shows’ descriptions. I categorized them as ‘science-based’ or ‘fear-based’ using the wording in the description and whether it mentioned scientists or research (particularly as the ‘host’ or focus). I then tweeted my predictions (Storify below). Here’s the summary table:
P.T. Barnum’s Feejee mermaid—perhaps Animal Planet will feature it in their next “documetary”? Image from Wikipedia
In 1842, the infamous showman P.T. Barnum unveiled a truly bizarre creature. In his autobiography, Barnum described it as “an ugly, dried-up, black-looking, and diminutive specimen… its arms thrown up, giving it the appearance of having died in great agony.” The Feejee mermaid, as the mummified remains were called, possessed the torso of a monkey with the tail of a fish. Naturalists from around the world came to examine the specimen, enticed by letters explaining how a Dr. J. Griffin had hooked the strange creature while fishing in the South Pacific. At first Griffin was reluctant to share his find, but somehow, Barnum convinced him to reveal the mermaid to the public. Huge crowds swarmed the Concert Hall on Broadway just to get a glimpse.
Things were not, however, as they appeared: The letters were written by Barnum himself. “Dr. J. Griffin” was only a character portrayed by Barnum’s close friend, Levi Lyman. The so-called mermaid was purchased from Japanese sailors in 1822 and leased to Barnum by Moses Kimball. Barnum even asked for a professional opinion, and was assured by a naturalist that the mermaid was a fake. The tale of the mermaid’s capture, Griffin, and his reluctance to unveil the animal was a publicity stunt. The Feejee mermaid, in all its grotesque glory, was P.T. Barnum’s first major hoax. His knack for trickery, manipulation and showmanship proved highly profitable, and over the years, his circus became known as “The Greatest Show On Earth”.
In his autobiography, Barnum explained how he manipulated so many into believing in the Feejee mermaid. “How to modify general incredulity in the existence of mermaids, so far as to awaken curiosity to see and examine the specimen, was now the all-important question,” Barnum wrote. “I saw no better method than to “start the ball a-rolling” at some distance from the centre of attraction.” So he wrote letters, which appeared in New York papers, from Alabama, South Carolina, and Washington DC. “I may as well confess that those three communications from the South were written by myself, and forwarded to friends of mine, with instructions respectively to mail them, each on the day of its date. This fact and the corresponding post-marks did much to prevent suspicion of a hoax, and the New-York editors thus unconsciously contributed to my arrangements for bringing the mermaid into public notice.”
You might expect such deception and fraud from P.T. Barnum, one of the most notorious showmen of all time. But it seems the executives at Discovery Channel are cut from the same cloth.
