JUMP THE SHARK
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the idea of “jumping the shark.”
It refers to the 5th season of the TV show Happy Days. In a 1977 episode, the ever-cool character of the Fonz, answering a challenge to his bravery, decides to prove himself by waterski-jumping over a confined shark. Fonzie wears his trademark black leather jacket with a bathing suit. It’s ridiculous in every way: a strange setting, uncharacteristic behavior, and a silly, gimmicky idea.
After this, the phrase “jump the shark” came to be used, by critics and viewers, to describe the moment when any story’s plot or characters or internal logic goes off the rails. Often, the ill-advised twist is introduced due to lagging ratings; it’s a play for attention when a show has outlasted its audience. It seems kind of desperate, and usually it marks the beginning of the end.
Radio personality Jon Hein coined the phrase in the 1980s and turned it into a website in the 1990s, so “jump the shark” has been around since the early internet. I don’t remember when I first heard it, but it captured my imagination and stuck. Now, it’s practically a given. I accept it as part of the lifecycle of most shows, assuming that they’ll all eventually jump the shark if they stick around long enough; it’s just a matter of when.
The idea also resonates beyond television. I think of it regarding any and all ongoing things, any storyline. It’s a point in the evolution of most companies, movements, careers, cultures, institutions, lives — an ill-advised rebranding, a midlife crisis, a bizarre third act, the fall of civilizations. For sure, lately, I’ve been feeling like we’ve jumped the shark as a country. We’ve lost the plot. Everybody’s exhausted, confused, disappointed, or disgusted. And I wish we could go back to an earlier season, when it made a lot more sense.
But this week I’ve been wondering about my assumptions and judgements. Is jumping the shark necessarily a bad thing? If so: what’s the real problem with it?
I mean, I guess it’s reasonable to call it “bad” if the intention was for things to continue as they’d been before. If, however, our goal is transformation, then maybe shark-jumping is exactly what it takes sometimes to invite bold, new possibilities.
It may occur for us as “bad” if it seems random or stupid, if people get hurt, or even if it just leaves us feeling less engaged. Then again, if we don’t make room for the unexpected, for mistakes, even for a little random stupidity in our lives, then we’re probably more rigid and controlling than is good for us; we’re always going to be stuck in and fixated by whatever’s wrong. And while I never wish for anyone to get hurt, the fact is that they do, we do, whether or not things are working sensibly, whether or not things are going along as usual. And in the end, my engagement — whether the world is normal or strange — is up to me.
Maybe the problem with jumping the shark isn’t just the fact that something audacious, extraordinary, or weird has happened. What messes us up, really, is trying to hold onto the old narrative, even after the rules have been irrevocably changed by the jump.
The problem isn’t that someone or something behaves in a way that seems out of character. Returning to the TV series metaphor: the problem is when the other characters continue in the same no-longer-viable story, stumbling around for another ridiculous season or two.
I think maybe it’s possible for our stories to jump the shark without things becoming absurd. Without it spelling the beginning of the end. But only if we stay with it and in it. Only if we’re willing to evolve, too.
In life, we can’t just change the channel or rewind. We have to deal with it when the unexpected happens and suddenly everything appears “off.” Sometimes the world is almost unrecognizable — it all seems preposterous, upsetting, or destructive. When the game changes like this, perhaps it is that something really has gone horribly wrong. Or maybe we’re being called to our own courage and audacity. Maybe both. In any case, instead of scrambling, futilely, to preserve the status quo, it seems to me that our work is to stay with the program and allow space in our own hearts for the paradigm shift.
We could even try to remember ourselves as writers-creators-producers of the whole narrative. We could demand that the world keep up with our storylines, rather than feeling stuck like supporting characters someone else’s tired-out narrative. We could jump the shark on purpose. Then it does indeed become a daredevil feat of brilliance. Then we become the leaders and light-bringers we were born to be.
I can’t wait to be with you on Sunday, March 30. With the divine Patty Stephens. XO, Drew
©2025 Drew Groves
