First of all, a confession. Until this very year, I had never seen an episode of Survivor.
If I recall correctly, the first season of Survivor aired in 1964, just after Ed Sullivan introduced America to the Beatles. (What’s that? No? It’s really only been on American TV since 2000? No way. I could have sworn…well, to be fair, that was three presidencies ago. But OK. I guess you’re right. I’ll get you in Tribal Council, my pretty…)
Life’s funny. After ten years of successfully avoiding the show in all its incarnations, I now find myself with a friend who has a Survivor addiction. I figure if I can hold him hostage while I blip through this week’s Project Runway, it’s only fair that I reciprocate and follow the fate of the Nicaragua castaways with him.
Here, then, ten years late, are a few newbie viewer’s thoughts on leadership, Survivor-Style.
There isn’t any. By design. At least not good leadership. Decent leadership, in fact, is a liability.
The Nicaragua Older Tribe had a relatively decent leader in Jimmy Johnson – which, I suppose, is not surprising when said contestant is a former NFL coach. Granted, he wasn’t all warm and fuzzy, but he did have his own way of calming people down and redirecting their energy to the task at hand.
Which is clearly why he had to go.
I mean, when the game is about survival, the best thing to do with a competent leader is…consider him a long-term threat to your own odds of winning the game, look out for your own eventual best interests, form devious alliances, and get rid of him. Right?
Wow.
Should have seen that coming, I guess.
I’ll give the tribes this: They put the “fun” in dysfunctional.
To be fair, I knew this show was going to take me to places I’d rather not go. Even before leadership training, I was a cooperative, constructive, collaborative sort of gal. That’s my basic personality style, and it still is. Leadership training taught me, if anything, that there is a place for standing firm to get my needs met, even when my natural instincts are screaming “Back down! Shut up! Run away!”
So watching a large group of scheming grownups working together only grudgingly (and only managing that because individuals realize they couldn’t win the challenges if they just got it over with and stabbed each other to death on their first night on the beach) is fascinating to me. Like watching a rare and exotic species do strange and puzzling things at the zoo. To me, these “reality” show contestants are about as likable and relate-able as naked mole rats. (And that’s just the normal people. I’m not even considering NaOnka, who seems to be in the running for the Special Achievement in Crazy award.)
Granted, I’m pretty sure that if I were a contestant, I’d last four, five, maybe even six seconds into the first episode of Survivor. So this could all be sour grapes. (Yum. Grapes. Bet somebody in Nicaragua would break somebody else’s arm for a bunch of grapes right now.)
I’ll keep watching with that same kind of rubber-necking morbid fascination that turns every fender-bender on the freeway into an hourlong traffic jam. But I’ll also be grateful that, for the most part, humans don’t treat each other this way as a matter of course. We are capable of acting in pursuit of enlightened self-interest. We can work together without undermining each other or sabotaging individuals. Most group endeavors are not, by design, zero-sum, win-lose games.
Thank heavens.
Whoa. I just had a hilarious vision: a Tribal Council full of Active Listening and used I-Messages instead of excuse-making, backstabbing and complaining. Snort. Chortle. Snicker. Giggle. Guffaw.
Yeah. Right.
As if anybody would tune in to see that.