The State of Bethenny’s Union

Bethenny Frankel is a one-woman organizing team against Bravo

What, exactly, is Bethenny’s deal? This question could apply to so many things — her prolific TikTok use, her hatred of Jonah Hill, her lack of support for other women — but right now, I’m specifically talking about her push for a union for reality stars.

It started with an Instagram post on July 19, in which Bethenny said that with writers and actors striking (in part) over the residual payments they get when their work is resold, reality stars should have the same type of arrangement. “I myself have generated millions and millions of dollars in advertising and online impressions being on reality TV and have never made a single residual. So, either I’m missing something or we’re getting screwed too.”

She’s not wrong. Reality stars have some of the worst contracts in the entertainment industry, and I have long said that it’s all upside for Bravo and the production companies that make these shows and it’s all downside for the women. Yes, they get paid, some (like Kandi Burruss) more than $1 million a season. But new Housewives make only about $60,000 for their first season, and that number hasn’t gone up even though, you know, inflation, cozzie livs, etc. The counterargument goes that the women can monetize their appearances on the show to make more, and Bethenny herself points out that many have tried and failed (except for her, natch). It’s not a sustainable idea. It’s like saying to a restaurant server, “We’re not going to pay you a lot, but you can sell the leftovers to people on the street to make more money.” And even if the women do make $1 million a season, they’re the ones in the hot seat if they say or do something fans don’t like. Do you think anyone is sending the head of Bravo death threats on social media? Hell no! (You shouldn’t do that to reality stars, either, but that is a different newsletter.)

On top of that paltry initial pay, they don’t see another dime from Bravo apart from their salary. If the show is a huge hit or really takes off (see the last season of Pump Rules), there is no bonus. Bethenny doesn’t get any money when fans restream episodes on Peacock or when Bravo runs a marathon of old episodes, even though no one would be tuning in without the hard work of her and her cohort. On Shop by Bravo, you can buy an “I Made It Nice” hoodie, mug, apron, socks, Christmas ornament, or Christmas sweater, and Dorinda Medley doesn’t see any of that. Also, there is the famous Bethenny Clause, where Bravo gets a percentage if any Housewife sells a business that she started while appearing on the show for more than $1 million. These women just earn, earn, earn, and Bravo keeps cashing the check.

“Yes,” you’re saying, “but they signed a contract.” But are these contracts even fair? Or do they exploit women who are willing to do just about anything to get famous? Unlike many fledgling actors, musicians, or even writers, first-time reality stars don’t have agents, managers, or possibly even lawyers. (Can’t they get Phaedra Parks on speed dial?) How are they going to say no when they have stars in their eyes keeping them from reading the fine print?

I’m with Bethenny; a union is a great idea. Bethenny has the support of SAG-AFTRA, the actors union, and, she claims, about 80 reality stars who have reached out to join the fight. Former Housewife Cynthia Bailey is onboard, saying, “Our likeness can run on forever and ever, and I feel like it’s fair for us to get some kind of compensation for our image and our likeness just being on TV and just being able to just run it until the end of time.” One notable holdout, however, is the aforementioned Kandi Burruss, who told Entertainment Tonight, “It wouldn’t make any sense for me to be a part of that.” I love Kandi, but I’m on organized labor’s side.

Bethenny’s next move, however, opened a whole new can of worms. She hired entertainment lawyers Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos, who sent a strongly worded letter to the general counsel of NBCUniversal — which owns Bravo, E!, Peacock, and more — accusing them of “a pattern and practice of grotesque and depraved mistreatment of the reality stars and crew members on whose account its coffers swell.” The letter contains plenty of sordid details, and, as reality fans, we love a sordid detail. It suggests that producers ply cast members with alcohol and don’t give them enough food or sleep, deny them mental-health care, won’t let them leave filming even under dire circumstances, cover up sexual violence, don’t compensate minors, and distribute revenge porn.

As a reality fan and reporter, I know many of these are absolutely true, but there is nonetheless a bit of irony to a Housewife leading this particular charge. The shows that tend to resort to such exploitation are shows where a vast majority of participants only appear once, like The Bachelor/ette, Survivor, Big Brother, or even Bravo’s own Below Deck, which is having its own reckoning about sexual assault and alcohol use at the moment. These are not shows where the cast can be easily unionized. In most cases, the networks don’t want them back, so they have absolutely no leverage to negotiate or engage in collective bargaining. Yes, some contestants will go between shows or into the awaiting arms of franchise extensions like Bachelor in Paradise, but considering how many new contestants each of those shows need every season, those repeats only represent a small percent of overall contestants. Unless it’s The Challenge — those people just come back and back and back. If you got those kids organized, they’d be more terrifying than the Teamsters.

By contrast, the Housewives and most other Bravo shows — the Married to Medicines and Summer Houses — rely on cast members returning season after season, so producers have more incentive to not treat them terribly, and the casts have more leverage, both individually and as a collective. So the Housewives, who are in the best position to form a union (I hereby nominate Emily Simpson to be their Fran Drescher), are arguably the ones who least need protection from these tactics. (For my book, I asked a bunch of Housewives and producers specifically about some of the practices around booze, and the response I got from most people is that it is up to the women how much they drink, and none of the women I spoke to said they felt external pressure to raise a glass.) In this case, Bethenny and the other Bravolebs backing her are in a position to be this would-be reality TV union’s equivalent of Hollywood A-listers hopping on the picket line, using their celebrity and relative privilege to advocate for those who aren’t afforded the same protections.

Is that how Bethenny, who with her BStrong initiative has remade herself as a kind of philanthropist, sees herself in this situation? Or are these the moves of a consummate businesswoman, one who sees an opportunity for more cash? I don’t know. But what I do know is that all reality stars should be protected from exploitative filming practices because of, you know, human decency. Period. Dot. That may not be a fight labor can win, but it’s something that we, as reality fans, should be advocating for and expecting our reality producers to uphold. (Big Brother finally evicted someone for using a racist slur, so we’re on the right track.) However, when it comes to residuals and other monetary stipulations in Housewives’ contracts, that is totally a fight that labor can win, and I’ll be the first one to tell the ladies to put a tagline on a picket sign and get out there in front of 30 Rock.