Scott Evans

n late August, Survivor Executive Producer Mark Burnett dropped the bombshell: the teams for the thirteenth season would be divided along racial lines. Four teams—black, white, Hispanic, and Asian—would compete against each other. Anticipating an outcry over the decision, he was quick to make one thing clear from the very outset: “I know it’s going to be controversial. I’m not an idiot.”

On the show’s first episode, host Jeff Probst promised that the coming season would be “a social experiment like never before.” After just two eliminations, though, the “social experiment” ended; the four teams merged into two multicultural teams. Given Burnett’s assurances that the concept would be the foundation for an entire season—however controversial—it is of course a bit curious that the producers were so quick to abandon the premise. Why the sudden change? To begin with, the negative reaction to this concept was nearly universal. Critics assailed the idea from all sides, with the New York Times’s Alessandra Stanley dismissing it as “more of a racy promotional gimmick than a loaded social experiment.”

Of course, while its gimmickry doomed the idea from the start, there was also a basic logistical problem: the race card could not have structured the whole season. With four groups of five, the teams wouldn’t have been able to compete effectively. This tactic simply would not be feasible for the whole season.

While tactfully avoiding a direct response to these questions, Burnett insisted that he was right to want something new. He was sick, he explained, of Survivor being “a boring, bland, whining white show.” This is certainly a true assessment: out of 16 contestants last season, only three were people of color. And what’s more, these lone contestants came loaded with tokenistic baggage. A 58-year old Asian man, Bruce Kanegai, was a karate instructor. For a black contestant, CBS began his biography: “Bobby Mason grew up in South Central Los Angeles, where he lost three friends over the years to gunshot wounds.”

But rather than simply adding more people of color to the competition—a logical, if un-dramatic, remedy—Burnett chose to separate them. And, unsurprisingly, the results have done little to buck social stereotypes. The Asian team has won the first two challenges, and the first five people voted off have been black or Hispanic. It would be unfair to accuse producers of rigging the program, but sometimes situations seem just too juicy to occur by chance—like when, for example, an Asian attorney is pitted against a Hispanic waiter. The show may not be intentionally skewing issues of class and race, but it seems to achieve that effect so well—and so consistently—that it’d be hard to assume otherwise.

One method that governs the format of the show is a heavy reliance on sound bites from the contestants of color. This not only gives the producers the promising sound clips that they need, but it also allows Burnett and his cronies to rest easy. They can rest assured that in spite of their heavy-handed editing, no one can accuse them of silencing any contestants. In a recent episode, a Vietnamese contestant remarked, “People always underestimate the Asians. We fly under the radar. No one suspects these little people with slitted eyes to see anything or to be able to do anything.” Meanwhile, a black contestant said, “We have to step up to the plate and show that, yes, black people do swim. I mean, we don’t just run track.” On any given show, it’s possible to find numerous provocative quotes such as these, but there is a curious lack of them from the white contestants.

With nine remaining contestants merged into a lone tribe, Survivor has taken a different turn. From the past few episodes, it seems as if the race gimmick has been erased from the show, whether intentionally or not. The contents are more essential Survivor—novel methods of catching fish, two beautifully dirty castaways making out—because if race can’t be maintained as a selling point, we always have sex.

As inappropriate as the Survivor concept may seem, it is hardly an isolated example; this trick of portraying a person of color as racist is symptomatic of modern popular culture in general. Is it all right for Dave Chappelle to lampoon race on Chappelle’s Show? The popular argument for justification in this case is that Chappelle uses his position to subvert a white hierarchal power structure in media today: to exploit it, benefit from it, turn it on its head. This exposes a more difficult grey area, though, because if a show’s demographic is comprised of mostly white adolescent males who in turn obsess over the show and quote it incessantly, is that not just a perpetuation of racism? During an appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show in February, Chappelle insisted that abruptly leaving production of the show had everything to do with business executives and nothing to do with the show’s insane (and distorted) popularity, but one must wonder if that’s the complete story.

The focus, though, must ultimately shift back to the consumer. Exploitation of non-white culture is booming only because it works—Survivor, even during its thirteenth season, is in the top 10 in primetime week after week (though ABC’s suitably stereotypical new competition, Ugly Betty, has taken a huge bite out of this season’s ratings). Something fascinates people about differences in culture, even when it’s approached tactlessly and tastelessly. Networks cater to the lowest common denominator only because they can, because it works.

We, as members of networks’ and advertisers’ coveted 18-to-49 demographic, must show our disapproval. Many people watch these programs because of the train wreck factor; they know that some outrageous premise will create conflict, and even though they don’t really gain anything from the viewing, they watch anyway. Don’t be a part of the problem; on Thursday night, forgo that hour of Survivor, take a trip to Kim’s, and rent a season of Arrested Development.