Last spring, Netflix released a reality show called Unlocked: A Jail Experiment. It follows a group of incarcerated men in Arkansas whose unit is briefly subjected to fewer security restrictions—a “radical social experiment” that hypothesized better behavior as a result of increased agency. Pulaski County sheriff Eric Higgins designed the experiment. Then he let the cameras in.

The series debuted with 3.9 million views: the second-highest English program on Netflix that week.

A quick Google search for the show will bring up a number of results in which the show is described as “controversial,” owing to a dubious permissions structure (or lack thereof) and questions about the legality of inviting a TV crew into a detention facility. Not mentioned—and not even considered controversial in popular discourse—is how the Netflix hit is part of a troubling trend in reality television. Under the guise of exposing the “realities” of prison life, programs such as Unlocked are making the U.S. prison–industrial complex a profitable form of entertainment, blurring the lines between punishment, exploitation, and spectacle.

Carceral reality television fuels harmful stereotypes about incarcerated individuals, especially people of color, while contributing to mass incarceration. These shows exploit participants as “unpaid actors,” with no compensation or labor protections, and give them little or control over how their stories are told. These sensationalized portrayals prioritize entertainment over humanity, reflecting the broader issues of manipulation and exploitation in reality TV. As the genre’s audience grows, so does its power to shape societal views on crime, punishment, and rehabilitation, entrenching harmful stereotypes and diminishing empathy for those impacted by incarceration.