In this op-ed, Gianluca Russo unpacks the problematic oversexualization of many teen Riverdale characters.

Among the many reasons fans can’t get enough of the CW’s hit series Riverdale are the intricate storylines and the never-ending mystery, which make it one of the network’s most binge-worthy series. However, there is one downfall that has progressively gotten worse throughout the series’ two-season run: the oversexualization of its teenage characters that borders on exploitative.

Take, for example, last week’s episode, titled “House of the Devil,” which opened with a steamy montage of Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge getting intimate with each other, as Jughead explained that their response to the Black Hood’s terror was…sex? Viewers also saw the return of Betty Cooper’s fabled dark side as she pole danced in the Whyte Wyrm as Jughead looked on in horror. To top it all off, the episode ended with a shirtless Archie gazing romantically out his window at Betty, the quintessential girl next door, whose very introduction in the series featured her talking wistfully about loving her neighbor while clad in jeans and a bra.

It’s no secret that some teens have sex. However, the voyeuristic way Riverdale has decided to up the sexual ante as of late feels like a strange way to capitalize on a classic “sex sells” trope, a narrative device with a long history, especially where teen soaps are involved. Gossip Girl’s first episodes centered on Blair Waldorf understandably fretting over having sex for the first time, and Pretty Little Liars upped this considerably when it introduced a statutory rape element with one of its first couples (a storyline that Riverdale later echoed). Yet while shows are entirely within their right to acknowledge the fact that yes, teenagers can be sexually active, it’s worrying that storylines would dive into these themes without moving the plot along in a meaningful way.

There are moments that Riverdale gets right. For one, the show gives its female characters sexual agency without diminishing their plotlines; scenes featuring Betty or Cheryl in their bras don’t feel icky because actresses Lili Reinhart and Madelaine Petsch aren’t objectified by the camera’s gaze. And though many scenes feature KJ Apa shirtless — Archie is, after all, introduced in the show by Kevin Keller’s thirsty proclamation “Archie got hot!” — it’s also important to note that neither Archie nor KJ lose agency from this. (Men have historically never suffered from being viewed as “hot” the same way women have.) But the Scooby Gang are still teenagers in high school, a fact that is made explicit throughout the series. And because these characters are going through puberty — even if their IRL counterparts are not — the show can have a profound impact on viewers who suspend reality and see themselves reflected on-screen every week.

By presenting surface-level sexually charged interactions, such a Betty’s pole dance, as “normal,” the show eschews a nuanced conversation about serious topics like intimacy and sex in favor of easy buzz. To be clear, Betty's sexuality and the way she expresses it are calls for her, as a young woman, to make alone. However, there is a lot of subtext surrounding the “snake dance,” including Toni Topaz’s condemnation of the act and the implication that Betty may feel coerced into “performing” for a bar full of adults — both of which are topics that are definitely worth unpacking. But the show has only provided pushback in the form of Alice Cooper’s horror and Jughead breaking up with Betty in an effort to “protect” her. (Though a Serpent, he is a teenager, too, and it isn’t his responsibility to serve as warden of his girlfriend’s sexuality.) But Betty's sexuality deserves a thorough discussion, not just an attribution to her new “dark side.”