Happy 2026, assuming you haven't succumbed to the various geopolitical and environmental catastrophes currently vying for your attention. To celebrate our collective survival, the tech-fetishists over at WIRED have graced us with their ‘picks’ for the 24 best shows on Amazon Prime Video. It is a listicle of such profound mediocrity that it serves as a perfect synecdoche for the state of human culture: a curated selection of distractions designed to keep you staring at a screen while your data is harvested and your autonomy is sold back to you in twelve easy installments.

Let’s address the elephant in the room—or rather, the billionaire in the low-earth orbit. Amazon Prime Video is not a streaming service; it is a loss leader for a logistics company that wants to be your landlord, your grocer, and your pharmacist. The fact that WIRED, once the vanguard of the digital future, is now essentially a brochure for the Bezos empire’s content library is the final nail in the coffin of independent thought. They aren't telling you what is ‘best’; they are telling you what is available within the walled garden you’ve already paid for so you don't have to think about the $139 annual fee you’re bleeding for the privilege of two-day shipping on plastic junk you don’t need.

The list leads with ‘Fallout,’ a show that represents the pinnacle of modern irony. We are currently living in a pre-apocalyptic wasteland where resources are dwindling and corporate hegemony is absolute, yet we spend our leisure time watching a high-budget dramatization of a post-apocalyptic wasteland where corporate hegemony is absolute. The meta-narrative is so thick you could choke on it. We are paying the very company most likely to usher in a corporate-run dystopia for the pleasure of watching a fictional version of it. It is the ultimate expression of the ‘bread and circuses’ strategy, except the bread is gluten-free and the circuses are algorithmically generated to ensure maximum engagement and minimum cognitive dissonance.

Then there is ‘The Mighty Nein,’ a show that caters to the infantilization of the modern adult. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the desire to escape into a world of dragons and dice rolls when the real world consists of rising sea levels and stagnant wages. However, the elevation of ‘Critical Role’s’ brand of tabletop escapism to a ‘must-watch’ status signals a society that has given up on reality entirely. We no longer want to solve problems; we want to watch people pretend to solve problems in a fantasy setting where the rules are clearly defined and the consequences are mitigated by a twenty-sided die. It is a digital pacifier for a generation of nerds who have traded their revolutionary potential for a subscription to a platform that tracks their eye movements.

WIRED also suggests ‘The Girlfriend,’ because apparently, we haven’t had enough of hollow human connection marketed back to us as prestige drama. These shows all blend into a singular, high-definition sludge—a visual wallpaper for the lonely. The ‘24 Best’ list isn't a guide; it’s a menu for the soul-starved. Note the number: 24. Not twenty, not twenty-five. Twenty-four. It is a number calculated to provide just enough variety to suggest choice, while remaining narrow enough to ensure you don't wander off the platform. It is the illusion of abundance in a desert of creativity.

The tragedy here isn't that these shows are necessarily ‘bad’ in a technical sense. They are polished, well-acted, and expensive. The tragedy is their purpose. They exist to occupy the space between your work-day and your sleep-cycle, ensuring that at no point are you left alone with your own thoughts. If you were left alone with your thoughts, you might realize that the world is being dismantled by the very people providing your entertainment. You might realize that while you’re binge-watching a show about a plucky underdog, you are the resource being mined.

WIRED’s January 2026 guide is a roadmap to intellectual atrophy. It treats the viewer as a consumer first and a sentient being second—or perhaps tenth. It is a testament to the fact that in the mid-2020s, journalism has been reduced to being a concierge for the conglomerates. We don’t need a list of twenty-four shows to watch; we need a reason to turn the TV off. But there’s no profit in that, is there? So, go ahead. Open the app. Click on the ‘Fallout’ thumbnail. Let the blue light wash over you while the world outside burns. At least the resolution is 4K, and the shipping on your survival gear is free.