Why I love Survivor.
Outwit. Outplay. Outlast.
The vibe of this newsletter with no context. And I promise — you don’t need to know anything about Survivor to enjoy it!
I watched Jersey Shore in high school because it felt like required viewing. I loved watching NEXT and Room Raiders because they were so stupid. I could not tell you why, but our family show growing up was Flavor of Love then Rock of Love (I truly need to create a questionnaire for my parents). I invited my friends over to watch Tanisha bang pots and pans on Bad Girls Club and I still reference America’s Next Top Model and The Hills.
Yet, I never once took interest in watching the popular reality competition show, Survivor. Like, ever. For years I genuinely believed it was not for Black people. It was for people who liked to lay in a sleeping bag (read: camp) for fun. It was for people who liked wearing khaki. It was for people who wore their outside clothes on their beds. It was for anyone but me.
But the power of Survivor is that, somehow, decades later, I am a dedicated convert. The power of Survivor is that Dan has gone from refusing to watch it with me, to watching over my shoulder, to reminding me that we missed last night’s episode. On Wednesday nights, twice a year, I smile in the middle of the day thinking about how that night, I will sit on my little blue couch with my husband, my nightly Reese’s cup, and we will watch people lie to each other.
When I did a domestic study abroad program in Los Angeles going into my senior year of college, the first thing I learned about reality television is that it’s scripted. In our classes, we studied scripts from shows like Keeping up with the Kardashians. It never made it to print, because I got a full-time job at Shondaland, but the last story I almost wrote for Cosmopolitan as a freelance writer was an interview with an unnamed reality show producer, who agreed to speak to “villain edits” in exchange for anonymity.
For a good period of time, I lost interest in what seemed to be (read: sure to be) stirred-up drama in shows like The Bachelor and the endless hamster wheel of formulaic competitions like The Voice.
But then the pandemic happened. And life really happened. The story behind how I came to it will be for paid subscribers later, but in an off-the-cuff attempt at watching the show, I learned I had it all wrong about Survivor.
I never realized how smart Survivor actually is. It’s different than other reality competition shows, or an ambush at a “party” organized by producers, or a group of people hanging out in a house for a summer and talking shit.
For me, Survivor isn’t about how much money they will win (which is a cool million dollars, btw). It’s also not the idea of people fending for themselves in the wilderness (When it comes to this particular concept, I prefer Alone, which I randomly could not stop watching during the pandemic, lol). In fact, these are actually the least interesting aspects of the show. Especially because I’m not the one winning the money, and I’m a troll sitting on my couch. For me, it’s about something else entirely: strategy.
Each week, the players compete in an immunity challenge. Sometimes, it’s endurance-based, like how long someone can balance a ball on the tiniest peg you’ve ever seen. Other times, it’s a puzzle-based game or a super physical relay on water or land. The winner of the challenge — whether it’s a whole team or an individual — can’t be voted out by their peers that week (which is the most fun, when everyone plans to vote a certain person out but suddenly can‘t, lol).
There are also reward challenges. (The most iconic one I’ve seen to date and think about weekly is Queen Liz here at 9:35 or below. I implore you to experience it.) Players compete to eat — and later in the game — sleep with real pillows, read letters from family, etc.). Sometimes, they’re rewarded with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (a personal favorite food that I will take any opportunity to talk about). Other times, it’s a buffet with pizza, or burgers, or spaghetti; with wine, or beer, or soft drinks. (I searched YouTube for an eternity trying to find a montage of Jeff1 saying “soft drinks.” I don’t know why I find it so funny.)
There are “merges” where players “drop their buffs” (the bandana that notates their current tribe by its color) and go from smaller teams to one large team — and the players don’t know when its coming. There are “hidden immunity idols” which players can search for in the brush or on the beach to secretly protect themselves or a fellow player from being voted out — but have to try not to get caught finding. (They can also “fake” having an idol any point in the game, that is, if they can get people to believe them.)
There are “journeys” which team members volunteer or are nominated to go on by boat. They compete in a small game, come back to their group, and either lie or tell the truth about any advantage they may have won — or if they’ve lost their vote instead. In older seasons, someone was even sent to Exile Island every episode where they were completely alone for a day or two … or three. And your relationships with the other players inform whether or not you’re in the know about idols, advantages, or votes — or out of it.
It all culminates each episode in what they call a “Tribal Council” — a culturally co-opted term that refers to the government structure of certain Native American tribes. Jeff Probst, the show’s sole host and passionate executive producer since the very beginning, asks strikingly perceptive questions and players must answer — or cleverly divert. (A quick aside: Dan and I have both done on-air hosting at various points in our careers and we agree; he is the best host on TV for so many reasons that I’d have to write another essay.)
When it’s over, each person goes to a private room to write their vote and place it in a box. Jeff tallies the votes, asks if anyone has any idols or wants to play their one and only “shot in the dark” (it’s almost like flipping a coin) to potentially be saved, reads the votes, and sends someone packing.
Sometimes, it’s pretty clear who is going home. Other times, it’s a complete blindside for a few people involves. This goes on each episode until someone is declared the "Sole Survivor" and wins one million dollars by outlasting everyone else through being socially strategic via alliances and sometimes manipulation (or, you know, army crawling and lying on your belly in a bush to listen in on someone’s conversation), showing some semblance of physical prowess, or both. But some of the best players in the show’s history weren’t even physically strong. They were just smart.
I can’t emphasize how much I don’t want to go on this show, and how much I will never want to. These people barely eat (unless they win a reward — or, my favorite — a Survivor auction, where they find money hidden in trees and bushes and bid on food, but have no idea what’s under the plate). They are in an extremely remote setting, sleeping in the dark with sn*kes, and can’t even brush their teeth. This is why — if you would have asked me ten, five, or even three years ago if I’d be watching, let alone writing, about this show — I would have said hell naur. But there is a reason I love Survivor, and why it is “the no. 1 entertainment show among viewers in Adults 18-34, A18-49 and A25-54,” according to 2024 Nielsen TV data, and is the first time it has won all three demos since 2000-2001.
The formula stands the test of time. While loopholes and changes and twists are thrown in from season to season (which feel less like a grab at keeping viewers and more like a way to truly spice up the game), it largely stays the same because it doesn’t need change to make it more interesting. (Please, do not take this as a metaphor for our modern society, lol.)
What does change are the players. Some seasons may be better or worse than others, but it continues to thrive as a show — and as a competition — because, while these ingredients make for good television, it is more than manufactured drama (like Laguna Beach or The Hills … okay … sort of iconic), reliance on involvement of beloved characters (like The Real Housewives or Below Deck) or entertainment value solely derived from whatever situation arises (like Selling Sunset or Basketball Wives). Any surprises or changes in the “plot” are carefully crafted by the players. And we, the audience, are always in on it.
As far as who “wins” and who “loses” it’s not as cut-and-dry as something like Wipeout or American Ninja Warrior, where you immediately know who’s out by the circumstances. It’s also not as complex and sometimes confusing as shows like Love Island or The Circle, where someone leaves every few episodes … and then new people come in … and then they leave … and then more people come in.
It’s different from other competitions shows where people get voted off. Take, I don’t know, The Masked Singer, which I — may or may not but definitely may — have occasionally indulged in watching since the pandemic. It is decided who is sent home by equal consideration of the four panelists’ scores and the “audience” vote. Contestants marked as safe each week on Dancing With The Stars (this — 25 seconds in but watch from the beginning for the full effect — is my all-time favorite moment in recent DWTS history; I still full-belly laugh; I am full-belly laughing right now watching it which is making Dan laugh at me) are also calculated by both the judges’ scores and America’s popular vote.
Many successful and popular reality competition shows (or, however you may measure “success” or “popularity”) use this kind of voting model of getting the audience involved. American Idol gave us Ms. Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood (is she the first woman to convert me to country music? Yes), and Fantasia Barrino thanks to it! But I didn’t realize then what I do now: Survivor (like another recent but lesser known love of mine, Big Brother) gives me something greater.
America never votes, and I love that. There is no popular vote! There is no electoral college! There is no gerrymandering! (Okay, sort of!) There is no waiting for the results to download from a little app onto a teleprompter where Nick Cannon reads them off! There is no question of whether or not it’s a fair and free election! There can be nothing left to the imagination; no conspiracies!
There is no “American” vote because the players are America. The very people who decide the winner of the game in the end of Survivor, once there is a final two or three, are the exact people the person hoping to win betrayed in some way. And who knows if they will respect you or hate you for it.
This thrilling concept sets Survivor apart from it’s reality and reality competition show counterparts — like America’s Next Top Model (Read: Nvr 4get “Ohlordbabygirl”) — and popular reality shows I never quite took interest in — like The Real World (Was it even good? Someone please tell me).
The thing about Survivor that continues to make me absolutely giddy is how whatever reality you create can’t be avoided or thwarted. There’s this actual sense of a reality you can’t escape. You cannot run from your decisions. Whether it’s that same night at tribal council, or when you are fighting for your life at the end of the game in front of the jury — the very people you sold out and cheated and deceived — you must answer for your decisions and deceit. And oftentimes, it’s directly to the person you’ve done it to.
The thing about Survivor that continues to make me absolutely giddy is how whatever reality you create can’t be avoided or thwarted.
I think about this: How the realities we create in our own lives are often avoided or thwarted, because they can be. We can easily lie; no one has a camera in our face. We can easily ghost; we don’t ever have to see someone again if we choose not to. We can get away with a lot; we typically don’t feel like we have to explain or take ownership of or answer for our actions (Especially if we aren’t winning one million dollars for it, lol). The saddest part is, many people weren’t raised to or taught how to do any of this, anyway.
Although it’s technically a game, it’s actually one of the most pure forms of reality that we have a chance to bear witness to, which is people unable to turn from the truth. And it is absolutely delicious every single time. I can’t wait to sit down and watch the finale tonight.
Tell me in the comments: Which reality show are you loving right now? What were your favorite reality shows growing up? For an extremely specific sub-audience: Which America’s Next Top Model challenge has not left your brain? I want to know! (I beg you, please do not text me your answer or send me an Instagram DM, lol.) Engage! Tell all of us! Leave it here so we can all chime in and giggle together!
Thanks for reading In Deep with Mia Brabham Nolan! Subscribe to receive all new posts, or become a paid subscriber to help support my time and work (and pay my incredible editor, Rebecca). All silly little opinions are my own. And here’s a photo of me and Parvati hehehehe.
Dan does a really good Jeff Probst impression…comment if you want the video and maybe we can conjure him next newsletter lol
Does anyone else also think about the ANTM "Seven Deadly Sins" challenge all the time?!
I love watching “Too Hot To Handle” on Netflix! Growing up, I watched “Gypsy Sisters” and I just loved everything about that reality tv show :)