The BBC’s “Thailand: The Dark Side of Paradise” seems to have really touched a nerve. Try replacing the country name in that title and you’ll get the picture: “Paris: The Dark Side of Romance,” “London: The Dark Side of Majesty,” or “Los Angeles: The Dark Side of Dreams.” The list goes on.
Every place has great aspects and bad sides, and that’s precisely why the BBC documentary on Thailand has been widely criticized, unsurprisingly by a number of expats and Thai influencers abroad.
They say the content is one-sided and the bad things are too exaggerated—understandable comments when they’ve experienced the good side of Thailand firsthand.
And, to be fair to the BBC and host Zara McDermott, the title already shouted “dark side,” so viewers shouldn’t have expected otherwise.
Still, the documentary came as a surprise to many. If you ask an average Thai person or scroll through social media, you’ll find most people feel offended.
Like those expats and Thai citizens abroad, they think the documentary is rather biased. But here’s the thing: I have no objection to any of the “dark side” points the BBC picked.
The problem is, they missed the real dark side, the everyday absurdities that only a local would understand.
Trying to capture Thailand’s complexities in a neat, “dark side” package is like trying to explain a day in Bangkok traffic to someone who’s never been stuck in it.
You can describe the madness, but they’ll never truly get it until they’re living it. But it’s the BBC, and we expect better. We’d have applauded the British state media if they could reveal something truly shocking or new that locals and expats have come to blindingly think of as normal.
So, let me roast Thailand in my own way. This may be just a small taste, far from a completed list, but it’s a start. After all, we think pickpocketing in Paris, racial attacks in London, and homelessness in LA are common.
Overrated smiles and vague language
First things first: the “Thai Smile”—and not the airline. The Thai smile has been wildly overrated and amplified, especially by the tourism industry.
Everyone’s heard it’s a sign of friendly, happy-go-lucky people. But a local knows it’s a universal response to every conceivable social situation, from a polite “hello” to a deeply uncomfortable “I’ve just seen you crash your motorbike into a noodle cart and I don’t know what to do.”
Sometimes, you just smile at someone in a miserable situation because you have no idea how else to react. Other times, you smile first when someone defames you, just to buy time while you prepare to consult a lawyer and file a lawsuit.
If the smile is vague, try learning the language. Thai contains a plethora of “between the lines” meanings, providing loopholes for politicians and unscrupulous businessmen to get away with the truth or break a promise.
The most infuriating phrase you’ll ever hear is “Mai Pen Rai,” which literally means “never mind.” In fact, it could mean, “okay, but I’m gritting my teeth,” or “no, but you’re forcing me to agree.”
For example, a friend asks if they can cut to the front of a public restroom queue because they’re in a hurry. The other friend promptly replies “Mai Pen Rai.”
This doesn’t just mean “never mind, go ahead;” it could mean: “if you dare to do it, don’t ask!”
The real dark side of daily life
You don’t need to explore life after dark in Soi Cowboy or Patpong to find a truly miserable time. The daytime misery starts right on the footpath.
Trying to walk along a Bangkok street is like being on a trail race with a trail that sometimes vanishes altogether.
Pedestrians can’t even walk casually as they must be on high alert for any motorcycles using the footpath as their personal “express lane.”
You may scold them at your own risk; many have witnessed “riders from hell” hitting back both verbally and physically.
And if you want to roast corruption, what scale do you want? From small-time bribes to the national level, we could roast Thailand for years on this topic alone.
In Thailand, you don’t have to investigate; you can breathe corruption in the air. Like our unsolved PM2.5 problem that clouds the air of the capital and many provinces from time to time.
The statistics show that lung cancer now affects young people, but well, someone out there is letting the air polluters continue their activities and are happily breathing the bad air with more money in the bank.
Then there’s the heart of Bangkok, where tuk-tuks and taxis line up in front of a shopping mall, parked against traffic rules. Worse, they refuse locals because they only want to overcharge tourists.
That’s two violations—parking in a prohibited area and denying service with a meter—all while the Royal Thai Police Headquarters is just a few minutes away. The corruption is invisible, but you can feel it.
Of course, there are new and creative ways of corruption, alongside old ones like “tea money” and the innovative ones corrupt officials have invented.
Sometimes, corruption just makes the country and people poorer. Other times, it causes hefty economic damage. Think about the collapse of the State Audit Office building, which went viral around the globe.
It was the only building that collapsed, making the whole world think Thailand was heavily affected by an earthquake. Thailand: a dangerous place.
There you go, erasing all hope of a tourism recovery. The only building that collapsed was the one from the agency whose primary role is to audit budgets. Go figure.
From street-level chaos to policy corruption, you can’t escape another dark side that only the powerless see: nepotism. Born an heir in an influential family, you already know that “nepo-kids” are here to stay.
They can climb the career ladder as high as they like in private organizations and government agencies. The 5G and AI eras have not changed the fact that many Thais are judged by their last name.
Just look at the names of the three Thai Prime Ministers who bear the last name Shinawatra, and the “nepo-kids” in Parliament.
The Great Thai foodie delusion
The “authentic” taste is a myth. The biggest and most maddening deception is that many of our beloved street food stalls have no idea what they’re actually making anymore.
The real dark side of Thai food isn’t a lack of hygiene; it’s the unnecessary and often bizarre sweetness that has crept into every dish, from stir-fried noodles to green curry.
It’s as if a sugar bowl exploded in the middle of a wok. To add insult to injury, the people who cook it often don’t even taste the dish themselves.
It’s a sad and delicious irony—the dishes that are praised as “gems” by influencers are the same ones we locals would describe with a phrase like “kin kan tai,” or “eating just to survive.”
When you ask a true believer why a dish is so good, they will stare at you blankly before offering some vague answer about “flavor” or “texture.”
What they won’t tell you is they have no idea what they’re talking about because all these famous dishes are now made by migrant workers who are just guessing at the flavor profile.
The “authentic” taste everyone is chasing is in fact a lottery, a gamble on who’s behind the wok and whether they’ve remembered to use more than just sugar. It’s a national culinary charade, performed with a smile, of course.
If you’ve read this far, you need not believe every word. If you want to roast Thailand, try living here for at least five years.
I’d dare to roast London traffic publicly if I’d lived there for a few weeks. Likewise, as a public service media outlet, if you want to portray Thailand’s dark side, please do so in a way that people would thank and respect you, not fume at you.
