Former 'Jerry Springer' producers recall how they manipulated guests for drama: 'This was basically the Stanford Prison Experiment'

• The Netflix docuseries "Jerry Springer: Fights, Camera, Action" premiered on Tuesday.
• It explores the controversial rise of Springer's daytime talk show, which gained fame for its brawls.
• Former producers describe manipulative tactics they used to get guests riled up and ready to fight.

The unruly guests on "The Jerry Springer Show" were not professional actors — but their infamous brawls were encouraged and teased out behind the scenes, producers say.

Netflix's new two-part documentary, "Jerry Springer: Fights, Camera, Action," unpacks the show's outrageous premise and its rise to the top of daytime TV ratings in the late '90s. It features several interviews with former producers, who describe the tactics they used to recruit real people with real problems and coax them into having emotional meltdowns on air.

"Just like any other manipulative situation, you need to instinctually pull out of them those points of tension that create a soap opera," Melinda Chait Mele, a producer who'd been hired from the tabloid world, says in the doc.

"A lot of the guests were earnest. They literally did think they were coming on to solve a problem. You wouldn't believe how many people said to me on the telephone, 'I can't wait to meet Jerry. I really hope he can help me with this,'" Mele tells the camera. "Jerry didn't help anybody with any of it. He just stood there and did his thing."

As the show was gaining popularity and producers were under more pressure to orchestrate shock and awe, Mele hired Toby Yoshimura, a former bartender with no talk show experience. He proved exceptionally skilled at convincing people to publicly air their grievances.

"These are small-town folk, right? And you're really trying to sell it to them, like, 'You've got this great story. We want to give people an opportunity to see that,'" Yoshimura explains. "In order for them to deliver, they have to like you. So you treat them like they're kings."

Yoshimura says producers would send limousines to ferry guests to and from the airport. A "Jerry Springer" guest identified as Melanie says they were also supplied with plenty of alcohol.

"They did everything in their power to get us as crazy as possible," Melanie says. "They were like, 'Go hog wild! Have fun!' And so we got wasted." By the time she arrived on set the following morning, Melanie says she was hungover, sleep-deprived, and "ready to fuck it up." Meanwhile, producers were with her backstage, coaching her on "what to say and how to act."

Yoshimura describes the environment as a "pressure cooker" and admits that some stories went too far. (Some of the show's most controversial episodes include "I'm Pregnant By My Brother" and "I Married a Horse.")

"You had to reach into their brain and tap on the thing that would make them laugh, cry, scream, or fight. You rev 'em up to tornado level, and then you send 'em out onstage," Yoshimura says, adding later, "This was basically the Stanford Prison Experiment, in that you were playing with people's psyches until you get a result."

This methodology was designed to generate higher ratings, which spiked after an episode that saw a member of the Jewish Defense League start a fistfight with members of the Ku Klux Klan.

"It was brilliant. And it rated through the roof," says Richard Dominick, the executive producer for "Jerry Springer" who's widely credited as the show's mastermind. "If you're producing a show that you want to be insane, and unlike anything that's ever been on TV before, there's your goal. That's what you want."

From that point onward, producers were instructed to pursue on-camera confrontations — and for a while, Dominick's method got results. In 1998, Springer even beat out Oprah Winfrey in the ratings for the most-watched daytime talk show, a feat that producers previously thought was impossible.

"There was no question: Jerry and Richard were on top of the world. I mean, the riches that it gave them, and the fame, were very compelling," says Robert Feder, a longtime media critic who worked for the Chicago Sun-Times during the "Jerry Springer" era.

"But what did they have to do in order to achieve it?" Feder continues. "The degree to which Jerry sold himself out, and the degree to which he was complicit with Richard in exploiting the people who came on the show, is something that had serious consequences."

"The Jerry Springer Show" ran for 27 seasons before it was canceled in 2018; Springer died of pancreatic cancer in 2023. In the final years of his life, Springer disavowed his own show and publicly apologized for the role he played, declaring, "What have I done? I've ruined the culture."

"I look at some of the stuff that's being done now, and I go, 'We're kind of responsible for this crap,'" Dominick says in the doc, which pairs the quote with clips from "Keeping Up With the Kardashians," "The Real Housewives of New Jersey," and "The Apprentice." He adds: "Maybe I am gonna go to hell."

However, Yoshimura suggests the show's success reflects just as negatively on viewers — including any viewers of the Netflix doc today — as it does on hosts, creators, and producers.

"Look at the history of the show. A guy punches a girl in the face, it gets huge ratings. We put a girl without clothes on the show, everybody loses their mind," he explains. "All you guys wanna talk about is all that shit."

"But, you know, we're the problem," he adds. "If none of that happened, there's no documentary on Netflix. Full stop."