Is Married at First Sight capitalising on trauma? And if so, are the participants getting comp'd enough?

It’s the question on everyone’s mind right now: should MAFS be cancelled? From allowing Paul to stay on the show after his violent punching incident, to the emotionally abusive behaviour shown by Adrian, there’s been a lot of hard chats around Australia’s most popular reality TV series this week.

This might possibly have been the most tense MAFS dinner party ever | Image: Channel 9

And despite thousands of calls to now cancel and boycott the show, it appears that MAFS will reign on, with Season 13 in 2026 being confirmed.

So now that we know we’ll be getting at least another year of Married At First Sight, perhaps this gives Australian audiences another opportunity to reflect on the ethics of the production. More specifically, asking ourselves: is MAFS capitalising on trauma? And if so, how?

Let me break down the two key reasons as to why I think it’s doing so.

MAFS’ cast member selection lays the foundation for entertainment (i.e. trauma)

This season, we’ve seen a range of contestants enter the experiment with a specific background of insecurities, mental health histories, or other complex personal backgrounds. Arguably, this has been especially the case for the MAFS brides. Awhina is a single mother and Maori woman, Katie is a deeply insecure person, and Sierah has clearly had challenges relating to her mental health. Even the social commentary around Jacqui has come out to question whether she has undiagnosed autism.

#JusticeForKatie | Image: Channel 9

These things aren’t for us to speculate on, but they are important when considering the reality that MAFS receives tens of thousands of applications each year. Why choose people who clearly have vulnerabilities that could potentially be exploited in the process of filming?

Devil’s advocate would argue that most people have some form of baggage. And in reality, they’re right. If this is where the MAFS plotting drew the line, then we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation. What is problematic, however, is the blatant leveraging of these particular traumas when selecting partners that will almost certainly trigger them.

We saw this on the very first night, when Katie was partnered up with (and ultimately rejected by) Tim. She explicitly told us, on camera, that she is insecure about her appearance, only to be partnered up with someone who requested the exact opposite of herself. “Small, petite, blonde,” are three words I’ll never be able to scrub from my brain.

This man still lives in my head rent free | Image: Channel 9

The same goes for Morena and her pairing to Tony, who clearly was looking for someone younger than him to have children with. And of course then Awhina, who was ultimately paired with a man child that probably acts less mature than her 6-year old son. Don’t even get me started on the decision to pair a POC single mother with a man who has domestic violence allegations previously made against him.

The process of filming, in itself, is inherently conducive to trauma

So, the stage has now been set. What comes next is the incitement and reliving of trauma over a three-month filming period. And while everyone knows that those who go on MAFS typically have some form of hidden agenda, it’s also fair to argue that nobody can truly prepare for such an experience until it is lived.

Why does filming capitalise on trauma, you ask? Before answering that, it’s first important to recognise that in the world of MAFS, trauma is entertainment. As viewers who receive inside access to the worlds and lives of these people, the two essentially become synonyms for one another.

But the less philosophical reasoning is this. First, participants are encouraged to be themselves, open up to the experience and detail traumatic aspects of their past, all for the nation to see. The confessions letter task alone is a prime example of this, and would be a confronting ask for any reasonable person. Second is the requirement that MAFS contestants undergo incredibly long filming hours. Third, the isolation from other couples, as well as the real world, enforced through policies like curfews.

Confession letters aren’t only awkward to reveal to national television, but also often end in an aired argument with their partner | Image: Channel 9

You mix all of this together with a whole lot of booze at the dinner parties and what do you get? Australia’s most popular reality TV show: incredibly entertaining, but for incredibly fucked up reasons.

But MAFS participants make money and fame off this too, surely that evens it out. Right?

Obviously, we won’t just sit here and claim that MAFS brides and grooms gain absolutely nothing from this experience. Even if they don’t exactly know what they’re getting themselves into, after twelve seasons, most of them have a reasonably strong idea of what to expect.

On top of this, as legally classified employees, they do technically get paid for their filming hours, albeit small sums. But what most people stay for (if not the very reason they sign up in the first place) is what they stand to gain after the experiment finishes.

Many might argue that for these reasons, contestants should suck it up and accept the nature of work they’ve voluntarily entered into. What most people don’t realise, however, is that after twelve seasons of MAFS Australia, the pathway from participant to influencer is almost too well worn. Nowadays, it’s typically only the season’s breakout character that might feasibly walk away with a career in media. Other than that, gone are the days where just making it onto the show guarantees you hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers. After all, not everyone can be Evelyn Ellis or Martha Kalifatidis.

Evelyn Ellis and Duncan James at a VIP event just last week. They’re a rare couple that has made careers from the experiment.

So no, for most people, it’s probably not worth their while. And if looking solely at the immediate compensation they receive for being on the show, no reasonable person would find this fair consideration for the trauma that is ultimately inflicted. And to add ethics into the mix, one might go so far to say that no amount of money can truly justify the pain, chaos and turmoil that the ‘experiment’ inflicts on its contestants.

So, there you have it. My daily rant. And with all that being said, yes, I will be tuning into Sunday night’s episode. And yes, I know that is hypocrisy to the extreme.

Disclaimer: All views expressed in this article are the personal opinions of the author alone, and do not reflect the official stance of So Sydney!