What you see when you turn on the television in the morning is not a coincidence. This is not the result of individual preferences, but of a systematic approach to broadcasting. For a long time now, daytime programs in Turkey are not just harmless entertainment that fills time. Rather, they are powerful ideological tools that redefine social perception, moral boundaries and what is considered “normal” behavior.
The ideological power of these tools does not derive from the fact that they use an explicitly political language, but rather from the fact that they appear to be non-political. Moreover, they do this not by shouting, but silently. This is precisely why they are dangerous. Not everything silent is innocent; often the most lasting transformations take place without noise.
These programs present themselves with innocence. They construct a “pro-people”, “humanitarian”, “helpful” language. At first glance, this language appears to be a call of conscience. However, behind this language, a cultural climate is produced in which social values are eroded and legal and ethical boundaries are blurred. In this climate, law ceases to be a system with rules; it is reduced to a field of opinion shaped according to emotions. This production is no longer limited to television. It has merged with digital platforms and turned into a habit that infiltrates every moment of the day. The viewer is no longer just a spectator, but an active carrier of this culture through algorithms.
The basic method of daytime is dramatization. Real life is complex; it is simplified. Social context is disturbing; it is left out. Causality is questionable; it is eliminated. This is a pedagogical choice. Because context makes one question; questioning makes control difficult. Only the “event” remains. But an event without context. Every decontextualized event is open to manipulation.
“In programs such as ”Müge Anlı ile Tatlı Sert", this situation gains a much more critical dimension. Here, not only the story is no longer told, but the idea of justice is reshaped. Law, procedure, evidence and process are pushed to the background of the dramatic narrative. The main thing is emotion, agitation, shock. This state of shock calls the audience to react, not to think. The reacting individual does not reason.
Even more serious is the position of the program host. The presenter is no longer a journalist. The presenter is no longer a moderator. The presenter is de facto a prosecutor, a judge, a law enforcement officer. This transformation is not a personal overstepping of authority; it is a systemic role shift. The media figure evolves into an actor filling the vacuum of public authority. Murders, disappearances and judicial cases are tried to be “solved” in a studio environment, outside the institutional mechanisms of the state of law. This means the symbolic transfer of judicial authority to the media. Law ceases to be a public process; it turns into a show under the pressure of ratings. Justice is subordinated to performance.
At this point, one has to stop and ask: Is justice established on screen? Or is only the representation of justice marketed on screen? People who have not yet been sentenced are turned into suspects in front of millions. Names, faces, lives are put on display. The presumption of innocence is effectively suspended. The viewer is left alone with emotional satisfaction instead of legal reasoning. This satisfaction feeds the lynch culture, not the sense of justice.
This is not only a violation of individual rights. It is a structural threat to the social legitimacy of law. Trust in the law begins to take shape not in courtrooms but in television studios. This is an alarming threshold for the rule of law.
A similar picture is seen in relationship programs. Family, private space and privacy become objects of public display. People's vulnerabilities, weaknesses and helplessness are commodified under the name of “intimacy”. Pain is no longer a condition to be protected, but a content to be watched. Privacy is liquidated in exchange for ratings.
And all this does not stay on the screen. The few seconds of dramatic moments plucked from these programs are completely decontextualized on social media. They go viral. Reality is replaced by fiction. The viewer no longer consumes the event, only the emotional outburst.
The algorithms of digital platforms systematize this process. Algorithms don't think; they measure. It loves reaction. It rewards attention. Anger, fear and scandal provide the highest engagement. That's why the same stories come up again and again. The same crises, the same shouts, the same accusations.
TikTok and YouTube are not only the carriers but also the accelerators of this process of degeneration. On these platforms, content is no longer valued on the basis of meaning, but on the basis of seconds, gestures and emotional outbursts. Shouts, accusations, tears and accusations plucked from daytime talk shows are completely stripped of their legal and social context and transformed into short videos. Algorithms reward reaction, not truth; they encourage reflex, not reflection. Thus, concepts such as justice, morality and privacy are simplified and banalized for the sake of a few seconds of viewability. Especially for the younger generations, TikTok and YouTube become a public space where law and social norms are learned; this space produces a universe of perception shaped by the arbitrary judgments of popular figures rather than a prescribed legal order. This is not only a cultural degeneration but also, in the long run, the erosion of public reason and political consciousness.
Each repeated narrative becomes legitimized over time. The exception becomes ordinary. The problematic is accepted as normal. This is where corruption begins: silently, systematically and pedagogically.
This is therefore not a simple television debate. This is a direct political and legal issue. Media does not only produce content; it produces social consciousness, morality and political reflexes.
The Republic's secular, rational and modern understanding of society is based on the rule of law, separation of powers and limits of authority. The media becoming a judicial substitute is a direct challenge to these principles.
RTÜK and media policies are key here. RTÜK's decisions on daytime in 2024 and 2025 show that the problem has been recognized. However, these interventions often remain temporary, reactive and symbolic. Unless the economics of ratings and advertising are questioned, ethical violations will continue to be part of the system.
What is even more striking is that control is limited to television. The same content circulates on digital platforms without passing through any public filter. A narrative that is considered an “ethical violation” on television is rewarded on digital platforms. This is a clear double standard.
Here we now have to ask the following question: Is the media a public sphere or merely an extension of the market? If it is a public sphere, the justification “the audience wants this” is not valid. Because what the audience wants is also shaped by the media. Demand is not independent of supply.
Therefore, censorship is not the solution. Neither is banning. But responsibility. It is holistic media policies including digital media. Critical media literacy. Political consciousness that transforms the citizen from a passive consumer.
Otherwise, the media becomes a spectacle that substitutes justice. Daytime talk shows and digital media are not the cause of corruption on their own. However, they are the carrier and accelerator of this process at a time when social disintegration is accelerating.
Therefore, it is not a matter of viewing preference. It is a matter of a clear cultural and political stance. For anyone who cares about republican values, the rule of law and public morality, viewing these contents critically is not a choice, but a historical responsibility. Because corruption often progresses not through noise, but through symbolic daytime courts, viral dramatic segments and the silent continuity of unconscious consumption.