The Crisis of Conservation in Reality Television

Since it debuted in early 2012, Ink Master has been my favorite reality TV show. For those of you who don't (but should!) watch it, Ink Master is a competition in which tattoo artists compete by plying their trade on volunteer canvases. Their work is then judged by industry notables Oliver Peck and Chris Nunez, as well as collector and impresario Dave Navarro.

On Tuesday, the show will air the third episode of its fourth season. This means that by the end of the spring, Ink Master will have churned through 57 contestants in less than two and half years.

This production schedule is undermining the show. Though it's early, this season's field looks weak. The judges have declined to name a winner in either of the first two elimination challenges. The most recent episode ended with a contestant quitting after an emotional breakdown.

After Season 2, the viewers voted Katherine 'Tatu Baby' Flores to return for Season 3. A mercurial genius of deep imagination but erratic application; she rode her second chance to a third place finish. Though the judges gave the title of Ink Master to the consistent, workman-like Joey Hamilton, Tatu Baby won America's Heart twice over.

This season's fan favorite is the solid, but unremarkable Kyle Dunbar. Given his listed experience of 20 years, he is probably past his window to reach Ink Mastery.

All of this is to say that Spike has failed to conserve the Ink Master population. By spacing out the seasons, the network would allow the population of viable contestants to regenerate. Instead, they are left with a middling, underdeveloped crop of hotheads who don't live up to the legacy of Tommy Helm (who currently stars on Tattoo Nightmares), or Steve Tefft (the Season 2 winner, who's finale piece is a great example of Connecticut craftsmanship, which is why I'm including it below).

The more intelligent model is that of Top Chef. Although food service has a large enough talent pool to justify 11 seasons since 2006, the producers have mixed in five seasons of Top Chef Masters and two seasons of Top Chef: Just Desserts. Rotating these spin-offs keeps the flagship program's contestant cupboard well-stocked. In addition, it keeps the producers from running out of desirable host cities. No one wants to see a bunch of talentless fry-cooks gutting out a Doritos challenge on Top Chef: Cleveland.

Actually... Wait, they have that! It's called Hell's Kitchen.