The ’80s were characterized by a distinct pop culture flair that rendered many television shows from that decade outdated by the time the ’90s rolled around. While some of these programs serve as entertaining time capsules, others now seem, to use a modern term fitting for this discussion, cringeworthy. Additionally, societal values have evolved significantly since the ’80s, making some shows, which were once considered progressive, difficult to enjoy in today’s context.

Furthermore, some of the shows that were hits during the ’80s may not have been particularly good even back then. This became evident as viewers matured beyond their childhood years and looked back with a more critical eye.

Take “Charles in Charge,” for example—a sitcom featuring Scott Baio as a live-in babysitter—that reveals its awkwardness right from the opening theme song. The tune has a romantic air, sung as though from the perspective of a young girl infatuated with Charles, the “new boy in the neighborhood.” The lyrics detail how Charles oversees their days, nights, wrongs, and rights, culminating in the unsettling line, “I want Charles in charge of me!”

The issues with ’80s sitcom “Charles in Charge,” in which Scott Baio plays the titular live-in babysitter, become apparent right from the show’s opening theme song. With borderline romantic music, sung in a style that sounds like a girl longing for her crush, and with pronouns intended for it to be coming directly from one of Charles’ charges, it starts off sounding like a yearning toward the “new boy in the neighborhood.” Things only get worse from there, as the girl sings, “Charles in charge of our days and our nights / Charles in charge of our wrongs and our rights” before finally declaring, “I want Charles in charge of me!”

The fact that Charles is only supposed to be 19 when the show starts, yet is asked to essentially be a nanny to several kids (which includes a tween girl), is already uncomfortable enough. And it gets worse when he switches families in Season 2 to one that has the college-aged Charles now “babysitting” a high school-aged girl. But coupled with the shiver-inducing theme song, it’s amazing that “Charles in Charge” wasn’t far more problematic in its day.

Think we’re reading too much into what was meant to be a completely innocent premise of a guy who was essentially just like a big brother to those kids? Maybe the fact two of the actors who played the aforementioned kids would subsequently accuse Baio of sexual harassment and assault during the show’s run will change your mind.

In its day, “Miami Vice” was the epitome of cool. The fashion, the cars, the cinematography, and especially the music were of their time. Sure, there was an actual show — undercover detectives James “Sonny” Crockett (Don Johnson) and Ricardo “Rico” Tubbs (Philip Michael Thomas) worked the beachfront beat in the titular city. But the plot typically took a backseat to shots of dudes dressing sharp and women looking hot, all while the neon glow of Miami strategically framed each shot and some smooth synth music played.

Therein lies the issue. Once it was removed from its time and place, “Miami Vice” quickly became a punchline for ’80s “cool,” an example of a decade that was far more interested in style over substance.

While you still see many other shows from its day in syndicated reruns and pushed heavily by whatever streaming service carries them, “Miami Vice” has faded into relative obscurity for a show of its popularity and longevity. This is unsurprising, given that the list of famous actors you forgot showed up on “Miami Vice” basically reads like a who’s who of anyone who was remotely famous in the ’70s, ’80s, and even ’90s.

There’s no need to beat around the bush here. The primary reason why “The Dukes of Hazzard,” the action comedy series starring various members of the Duke family as they get into mischief in small town Georgia, has aged poorly is the giant Confederate battle flag that adorns the entire roof of Bo (John Schneider) and Luke’s (Tom Wopat) 1969 Dodge Charger. Oh, and said Dodge Charger was known as the “General Lee,” named after the most prominent Confederate general during the Civil War.

For years, it was considered one of those things that was only mildly problematic, dismissed as “of its time” and not getting too much attention either way. But following the racially motivated mass shooting in a Charleston church in 2015, society began to get a lot more critical about things like Confederate flags — causing TV Land to pull “The Dukes of Hazzard” from its rotation. Warner Bros., the rights holder of the franchise, subsequently stop producing any merchandise that depicted the original Confederate flag-adorned General Lee. Subsequent events, like the death of George Floyd and the ensuing Black Lives Matter movement, have only served to further solidify the need to move away from any perceived glorification — such as the recreational use of the Confederate flag — of that very dark time in America’s history.

Even among arguments from members of the show’s cast and crew that the show itself never outright depicted — or even discussed — racism, the existence and prominence of the flag has been enough to tarnish the legacy of “The Dukes of Hazzard.” Even more so than the absolutely dreadful 2005 film remake.

The very premise of “Three’s Company” got things off on the wrong foot. A man named Jack Tripper (John Ritter) tries to share an apartment with two female roommates, but their landlord won’t allow such a sinful arrangement. So Jack tells the landlord he is gay, thus ensuring that there won’t be any funny business between him and his roommates. And of course, in order to keep up the lie, Jack has to “act gay” around the landlord. Cue shallow stereotypes and cheap gags at the expense of so-called “gay” behavior. That said, “Three’s Company” won a surprising number of awards, so what do we know?

But that’s not where the badly aged elements of “Three’s Company” stop. The show also doesn’t have a particularly high opinion of women, either. The blondes are ditzy airheads, the brunettes are buzzkill feminists, and pretty much all of them are just prizes to be won by both Jack and neighbor Larry (Richard Kline), the latter of whom in particular is all about bedding them quick and sending them packing before pesky feelings get involved. And, no, Larry never learns any lessons from that behavior, nor is he particularly vilified for it.

To top it all off, the humor just isn’t particularly timeless anyway. An ongoing gag — one that happens at least once per episode, if not multiple times — is that two people are engaged in a completely innocent activity, but are saying things that sound naughty to the person in the next room who happens to overhear them. When that isn’t happening, Mr. Roper (Norman Fell) is probably going on about what a nagging harpy his wife is. Ah, the good old days, when every sitcom husband seemed to despise his wife for no apparent reason.

If none of the previous entries have outraged you yet, this one might be the first that will have you wishing we had a comment section you could sound off in. “Cheers” is one of the most beloved sitcoms of all time, lasting for an impressive 11 seasons, during which it never strayed far from being at the top of the ratings. Its simple premise (the staff and regulars of the eponymous establishment sitting around and chatting), stacked cast of gifted performers, and its multiple iconic characters have made it easy to revisit and enjoy in the over 30 years since its finale.

So, what’s the issue? Well, it’s essentially a show that celebrates alcoholism. No, not everyone that drinks is an alcoholic. You could even have a certain bar that you stop by every day after work for a beer or two and not be an alcoholic. But these are people that go to this same bar, day after day without fail, and hang out there for hours on end. So much so that people shout the names of the regulars as they walk in the door.

It wouldn’t be so bad, except it’s basically never addressed. You never see any of the downsides to how much time all these people spend in bars. You also almost never see anyone actually depicted as drunk. Sure, that was probably a decree from the network, but it nonetheless made it seem like it’s perfectly okay to basically live in a bar and it will have zero negative effects on your life, health, and relationships. Several people have spouses that are discussed but are rarely, if ever, seen — and when they are mentioned, it’s typically more examples of the “boy, wives sure are annoying, aren’t they?” humor that was prevalent in the era.

Thankfully, the world started to see through the “white savior” trope a while ago. If you’re unfamiliar, it describes a story in which one or more Black people are down on their luck in some way, until a white person swoops in to save the day and make their lives all better. The implication is that said Black people would’ve never gotten out of the situation they were in were it not for a white person who was willing to be the hero — and then get the credit.

Well, looking back now, “Diff’rent Strokes” is basically “White Savior: The TV Show.” A rich white man named Philip Drummond (Conrad Bain) decides to take in and adopt two poor Black kids — Arnold (Gary Coleman) and Willis (Todd Bridges) — in order to give them a better life. What followed was a lot of jokes at the expense of these kids for not knowing how to navigate their comfortable new life, exaggerating a little too much how clueless they are at understanding even the simplest of concepts. Even worse are the show’s now-infamous very special episodes that attempted to teach some sort of lesson, but just came off as cloying and embarrassing in retrospect — especially the particularly notorious two-parter about the creepy bicycle shop owner.

It’s also impossible to discuss “Diff’rent Strokes” now without mentioning that all three of its young cast members — Coleman, Bridges, and Dana Plato (who played their adopted sister) — would become part of some of the biggest child star controversies in TV history. Their struggles and tragedies very quickly overshadowed most of the fondness anyone might have carried for the series.

We mentioned that we were going to be discussing shows that were never actually good in the first place — and likely only hit with kids, or those who had a high tolerance for so-bad-it’s-good cheese. That was more or less directed squarely at “Knight Rider,” the action drama that starred the king of so-bad-it’s-good entertainment, David Hasselhoff. He played an LAPD detective with a talking, sentient car; and if this is somehow your first time hearing about “Knight Rider,” take all the time you need with that. And in case you are assuming it was a comedy, the show most certainly took its wacky premise quite seriously.

The issues with “Knight Rider” go deeper than just being too corny to be enjoyed outside of being a child in the ’80s. These days, it’s not remotely unusual for cars to either come equipped with voice commands and AI assistants, or to allow for easy connection of such devices. Someone watching “Knight Rider” for the first time through modern eyes will be left wondering what is so impressive about KITT, considering those with a little more money to spend can also buy something like a Cybertruck, whose features and futuristic tech further puts “Rider’s” vehicle to shame.

All that to say, when regular people can buy “talking cars” as it were, a show built entirely around how novel of a concept a talking car is just isn’t all that special anymore.

The idea that “The Golden Girls” has aged poorly is going to be hugely divisive, especially given that the show’s legacy is that of actually being rather progressive for its time and for tackling issues that most other shows of the day wouldn’t touch. But this list isn’t necessarily about shows that have aged poorly all across the board, and includes some with just a few particular aspects that haven’t held up so well.

One reason “Golden Girls” didn’t age the greatest has to do with, interestingly enough, aging. At the time the show aired, being a 50- or 60-something woman indeed felt like the “golden age” of one’s life. The ladies were already living together in a glorified retirement community, and they wore clothes and hairstyles befitting what is considered that of “old women.” If a show today had the premise of “Golden Girls” and had characters that weren’t even 60 years old, it would be met with huge backlash. Instead, the ages of the characters would have to be in their 70s, if not early 80s, for it to feel like the modern version of what one’s golden years would be.

Another aspect that has aged poorly about the show is its treatment of Blanche (Rue McClanahan). Blanche is portrayed as a woman who very much enjoys being a single woman, and that includes going on dates, talking about men, and even getting physical. That was generally portrayed as shocking, risqué, and worst of all, often fodder for jokes at Blanche’s expense. In one “Golden Girls” scene that has aged especially poorly in that regard, Sophia (Estelle Getty) takes a crack at Blanche’s perceived promiscuity in a way that would most certainly be frowned upon today — and rightfully so.

At a quick glance, the easiest thing to criticize about sitcom “Gimme a Break!” is that it’s another example of not portraying the dynamics between white people and Black people in the best light. The fact that Nell (Nell Carter) is a Black housekeeper for a white family is sometimes used for cheap, easy jokes about cultural misunderstandings and the like. But “Gimme a Break!” has far deeper issues, and they actually don’t relate to racial dynamics at all.

In the show’s very first episode, the patriarch of the family Nell works for — generally referred to as Chief (Dolph Sweet) — gets into an argument with one of his daughters. To say he doesn’t handle it well would be an understatement. Not only does he order the 17-year-old girl to move out over the incident, but he literally slaps her right across the face. Sure, the show considers this to be a big deal and doesn’t excuse or condone the abuse, but it still doesn’t change the fact this supposed fun family sitcom — complete with laugh track and bouncy theme song — depicts literal physical abuse in its pilot episode.

It also isn’t even the last we see of such a thing, as he later slaps his other daughter when he catches her smoking. And that’s in addition to Nell having to talk him out of using a belt on her, a girl who is depicted to be around 15 at the time. Chief is given that nickname because he is the chief of police, and that doesn’t frame any of the physical abuse he inflicts on his daughters (which he never truly gets in any trouble for) in any better of a light.

When considering ’80s sitcoms with dark sides, few are darker than the one that now overshadows “The Cosby Show.” When stories that detailed literal decades of alleged abuse and assault by Bill Cosby came to light, some of which occurred during the run of — and around the set of — “The Cosby Show,” all warm nostalgia and credit for being pioneering went completely out the window. For the rest of time, whenever someone talks about “The Cosby Show,” the first thing that will always be addressed is the downfall of Cosby himself and how it tainted everything he ever did in his professional career.

As for the show itself, there is plenty that can be nitpicked that would’ve made it a contender for this list. For instance, Cliff (Cosby) and Clair Huxtable (Phylicia Rashad) are often too dismissive of letting their kids be modern youngsters, trying to force old-fashioned values and lessons on them that would not have served them well as they entered adulthood in the ’90s.

The show also got criticism at the time, but even more so in retrospect, of trying too hard to be a show that presents a version of the Black experience that white audiences would find safer and more identifiable. It rarely addresses racism with any real grit, and worse, sometimes seems to offer the problematic subtext that the Huxtables don’t face racism because they are rich and successful — and that other Black people that don’t want to face racism should just follow their lead.