Television

In January, Hillary Clinton appeared on The Tyra Banks Show.

On the daytime talk show's bright set, she and the host chatted about the importance of voting, her healthcare policy, her headbands and, of course, her marriage.

Then Tyra asked the candidate: If you could be in a reality show, which one would it be?

Clinton paused for a moment, laughing. And no wonder. How is she supposed to answer that?

She's starring in one already.

This year's presidential race has become the newest reality TV hit. It's not just a show — it's a pop-culture phenomenon, generating so much interest and passion and intense discussion, you'd think it was the next season of American Idol.

And as this year's political horse race continues, we know we can look forward to more plot twists, character eliminations and shocking revelations before it ends.

While regularly scheduled sitcoms and dramas were held up by a writers strike, the presidential primaries, and the hoopla of the campaign, have given us better television than we could have hoped for. And in November, when it's all over — when the last speech has been made, the last bit of confetti swept from the floor — this just might be the question on our minds: Will the 2008 presidential election be released on DVD?

In many ways, we were prepared for this election by reality TV. Just like those water-cooler buzz shows — Survivor, The Bachelor, The Amazing Race — it's a contest we follow in an involved, emotional way. We analyze the candidates' performance, remarks, wardrobes. We get defensive when someone sneers at our favorite, but we pick apart the competition. We examine the strategy behind each move, deciding what we might have done in their shoes.

And just when the campaigns seem to hit an even keel, here comes a leaked photo, a peeked-at passport, an alleged affair to shake us all up. As with reality shows, we hold our breath for the next "Oh-no-you-didn't!" moment. And we never have to wait long.

We even talk about the candidates as if they're reality-TV stock characters.

Clinton is the beloved victim of a media-rigged game — or she's the evil, plotting character viewers love to hate. (Will she stop at nothing to win? Find out next week!)

Barack Obama is the smooth fan favorite who can do no wrong — or he's the one who made it to the final rounds without having to prove himself. (Will he self-destruct? Tune in to Thursday's debate!)

And John McCain, now that he's sewn up the Republican nomination, is the sneak-up contestant — so low-drama, he just might win before anyone really takes him on. (Can McCain maintain his immunity to the final round?)

With characters like these — passionately liked or disliked, intensely interesting to watch — who wouldn't tune in? It's dramatic, and it's shown on every channel, at all times of the day. Besides that, it's guilt-free, because who can fault us for following an election?

So why now, in 2008, is the election suddenly reality TV? Several factors:

The election taps into something even Friends notably didn't do: It features a diverse cast of characters — in age, race and gender — which means more viewers (um, voters) see themselves reflected in the candidates.

It has all the ingredients for an exciting contest: A field with no incumbents, a high-stakes contest for a high-stakes job, one with real problems to solve, not Trumped-up challenges.

And it's easy to follow: It's on all the time, and when you're not near a TV you can find updates on the Web through blogs, news outlets, Twitter, Facebook, you name it. Fans can easily feed their obsession, which only cultivates more obsession.

Besides that, the election has invaded our entertainment. No wonder we've confused the two. Even if you didn't follow politics, you wouldn't be able to avoid it if you watch any of a half-dozen talk shows.

We've been headed toward this moment since MTV's The Real World appeared in 1992. As more TV shows turn real life into a game, we've started doing the same thing.

Reality contests trained us to get deeply involved in the lives of strangers who look a lot like us. They taught us to award points for cattiness and fighting, to relish the moments of humiliation. And in a way, reality TV encouraged us to focus on the potential for rivalry and discord, to blow up minor differences and see them as insurmountable. We have learned to enjoy wringing our hands over utterly banal conflict.

But here's something interesting: At the same time we're making the candidates more like us, the race is making us more like them. We are suddenly involved in the democratic process.