If it’s true that television reflects society, then Piero Chiambretti’s new program Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, which aired its first episode Tuesday evening, shows just how far Italy still has to go.

First, it must be said that the purpose of the show is meant to be ironic. Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown was conceived as a comic show, and Chiambretti, as we know, is an iconic TV personality in this genre, someone who thrives on controversy.

According to his statements to La Repubblica, with this program Chiambretti wanted to answer the question: “Are women really in crisis?” (a question which, in my opinion, we should indeed start asking ourselves—but I would phrase it very differently). Asked whether the show speaks to women or seeks to understand them, Chiambretti replied that he aimed to do both; he said he didn’t want to be provocative but rather provide “public service” and a bit of “escape.”

From that declaration alone, I can already say that, in my opinion, the program failed in its goal. First of all—sorry, Piero—but the very idea that a man can explain to women why they are “in crisis” doesn’t hold up. Someone socialized as a man, in a man’s body, can never fully understand the world of women (just as the reverse is also true). As a woman, this program told me nothing; I did not feel part of the “female universe” he sought to address and understand. On the contrary, it worries me that public television continues to use women as tools to keep viewers hooked—exploiting their condition (which, I believe, is indeed in crisis today) as a pretext to put back in the spotlight a male figure well-known and important to national broadcasting. In fact, the central figure in this show is not the women—it’s Chiambretti himself. Once again, women are pushed into the background, and once again, a man presumes to tell us who we are and how we should be. I don’t mean to suggest that Chiambretti consciously designed the program this way—maybe he even had the best intentions. But, whether unconsciously or not, it is yet another example of how the media system freely exploits women’s condition and image. A system still governed by patriarchal and capitalist logics, not by the well-being of its audience.

And what worries me is that this much-touted need for “escape,” so fashionable in today’s era of “you can’t say anything anymore,” comes at the expense of representing a social group that, dear Chiambretti, you clearly do not understand. Because it is not true that humor is no longer allowed, or that we can no longer laugh. But to speak about and to a group of people, it is not enough to invite a few individuals labeled as its “representatives.” One must first try to truly understand that group. Understanding the “Other” is difficult: it requires questioning one’s own convictions, one’s worldview. The greatest risk—exactly as we see here—when you skip this process is to present a distorted and false image of that group. Simply putting women in the studio does not mean they represent all Italian women. They should have been given space to voice their own perspectives. Otherwise, they are mere puppets following imposed scripts, reciting lines, delivering shallow remarks. That is not how it should work. If you want to do comedy about women, you must first make an effort to understand them—or at least try. This program, unfortunately, shows that Italian society still understands nothing about women.

Even the title of the show rings wrong: why is it always women who must be portrayed as on the verge of a breakdown? I agree that women’s roles today are deeply in crisis, but suggesting we are all “about to snap” is a stretch. And, an obvious question—what exactly is supposed to be causing this breakdown? We’ll never know, since the program offered no explanation. And, predictably, women are once again framed as neurotic and frustrated. The irony is that at the same time, society demands that we never appear that way: we must not show anger, we must always be sweet, gentle, and nurturing. Being a woman, above all, means being calm, composed, and respectful; any “crises” must be kept to ourselves. Heaven forbid we show frayed nerves! Women are forced by society to repress anger and the energy that comes with it. Men, on the other hand, are free to express it—often through violence. So of course we end up labeled as “on the verge of a breakdown”: because that energy has to go somewhere, that anger has to be expressed. A title like this, then, should either introduce a program genuinely trying to understand this crisis—even through irony—or it aims to put women back in their place, mocking them. Sadly, I fear this show chose the second path.

Let’s go step by step.
I must admit, I couldn’t endure more than an hour of the program (though I think I lasted too long already). The introductory video alone should have been enough to make me turn off my computer. It set out to explain why women are supposedly on the verge of a breakdown. The opening question says it all: “Will women conquer the world, or have they already and we haven’t noticed?” First of all, who ever said women wanted to “conquer” the world? I don’t think that is our existential aspiration. And framing “conquest” in implicitly violent terms is highly inappropriate. I cannot speak for all women, but I am sure most would agree: we have no intention of subjugating anyone. Yet this is the rhetoric we constantly face: that of “conflict.” Since the 1990s, the so-called “battle of the sexes” has dominated discourse on gender relations. And it carries consequences, as we’ll see later. Many of us no longer identify with this narrative of constant struggle against men. Times have changed, women have changed, and this vision is beginning to crumble. But evidently, that message hasn’t been received. What we want, if I may say so, is actually something simpler: respect. To be treated not as neurotic caricatures, but as human beings.

The video goes on: the contemporary woman is “intuitive”—cue an image of a serene mother working with a child in her arms and another at her side—“nurturing,” with a close-up of a breast-feeding mother; “ready for change”—though what kind of change remains unclear. What is the subtext here? That to be “good women,” or rather “contemporary women,” we must continue to have children, care for them at home, and simultaneously be present everywhere, doing everything. In other words: stay quiet and good in your homes, don’t make too much noise, but keep up with the times. Be good mothers and good workers. Too bad that today women still face severe workplace discrimination and carry the bulk of domestic labor.

The video adds that today’s woman can “shape history without losing her femininity,” showing glamorous images of Princess Diana. It then cites the Financial Times ranking of the most influential women of 2023, noting that many operate in traditionally male domains. Two problems arise here: first, if a woman reaches a position of great power, she must be careful not to “lose her femininity”—because power is clearly still viewed as male, and God forbid she appear “too masculine.” Second, there is still a vision of work as divided by gender: “men’s jobs” and “women’s jobs,” with shock that women might outperform men in the former. Underlying both is the same belief: women are less capable and less credible than men. Women are not first recognized as independent individuals with dreams, ambitions, desires. Our very womanhood must always be measured against a male-dominated world, assumed to be more competent and intelligent. If one of us makes it to the top, she is framed as an exception. And if she succeeds, it is assumed she sacrificed her femininity. Yet femininity has nothing to do with holding a prestigious role—just as the opposite is also true.

Then the video tries to cheer us up: women’s struggles have been won! We should be happy, it says, since women’s representation in international parliaments has doubled in the last 30 years, and there are now 27 female heads of state or government worldwide. And the cherry on top—one of them is in Italy! Aren’t we thrilled? Isn’t this what we wanted all along?

But, of course, there is a “price to pay”: the nervous breakdown. Essentially, we are told we are not enough to achieve our goals—that to succeed, we must also be “hysterical.” The implicit question: is it really worth fighting for your dreams and aspirations if you are doomed to break down? No need for subtitles to grasp the message: behave, don’t make trouble, other women are already taking care of it for you. Their victories are yours too (which is not necessarily true—see Meloni in government). Success, they warn, means entering the lion’s den of men’s world, and that is not advisable. Because those successful women are exceptions, women who supposedly had to give something up to make their dreams come true. Are you really willing to give up yourselves for this? Better stay home and be “real women.”

Too bad our aspirations, dear Chiambretti and dear Rai, are not all about becoming heads of state or CEOs, nor about proving we are better than others. And they are certainly not about sacrificing parts of ourselves for success. Our ambitions go far beyond all this.

I should have stopped watching after that video, but curiosity got the better of me. I hoped the studio guests would give some depth to the program—but I was sorely disappointed. Especially the women: I hoped they would have something meaningful to say, that they would enrich the show (even with humor), not diminish it further. I hoped they would speak to real Italian women today, show models of change. Instead, the space they were given was minimal, their interventions shallow. How can you claim to understand women if they cannot even speak? The humor, too, was sly and based on stereotypes, damaging women’s image rather than making it funny. It was grotesque. Women are tired of being reduced to stereotypes. I felt diminished watching the women on screen, because I heard no authentic voices, no real ideas. They were there as tokens—present, but not participants.

This was glaring in the interview with Sofia Goggia. I won’t analyze it in detail, only a few points. Chiambretti spoke almost the entire time, constantly interrupting her, and she barely managed two-sentence answers. The lack of respect for her, her work, her path was evident. Then came the moment that, if I were Sofia, I would have walked out: the discussion turned to sexual fantasies of men and women, with the claim that women supposedly have more fantasies but don’t express them. Chiambretti then asked Sofia directly if she had sexual fantasies, as if it were a casual question. As if she were expected to share, in front of millions of viewers, not only whether she had fantasies but what they were. Is that really what you want to hear from a woman?

After that, I finally turned off the computer.

The moral of the story: we are in a very bad place. As I said at the beginning, it is unacceptable that public broadcasting airs programs like this. This is not a show that listens to women or tries to understand them—their voices are practically absent. The protagonist is Chiambretti. The women are there only by virtue of their gender, not because they have something meaningful to say (nor are they given the chance). Once again, a man appropriates women’s experiences, sensitivities, and subjectivities for his own purposes.

We are part of a mass media system that belittles us, throws us scraps to keep us quiet, maintains the status quo, and shows us no respect. As a woman, I feel mocked, disrespected in my dignity and integrity. It saddens me that an elite of people presume to define for an entire society what Italian women are and should be today. Italian media continues to fuel gender conflict rather than cooperation. The foundation of male–female relations is still set as conflict: men always one step above women, while simultaneously fearing their desire for emancipation. Women, for their part, are forced into a competition to prove they are “better” than men.

But I believe times are changing. Both women and men are becoming more aware of their social roles, of the power each holds over the other, and of the possibility of relationships based on respect and cooperation. Unfortunately, as we saw with the government’s recent move on abortion, those in power have no intention of allowing it.