Editorial

Walk on the Wild Side

ONE MAN. ONE WOMAN. EXPOSED and alone, at nature’s mercy for twenty-one days with no food, no water, no clothes. Do they have the skill and the will to survive naked and afraid?

So opens the enormously popular reality TV show, “Naked and Afraid,” on the Discovery Channel which weekly challenges one bare-assed couple to survive for twenty-one days in a seriously harsh, although tropical, environment. I don’t think they’ve done an episode in the fjords of Norway, nor are likely to unless they retitle the series “Naked and a Popsicle.”

Why this particular survival show is such a mega-hit baffles me. Is it supposed to be educational for the rest of us in case of the dreaded zombie apocalypse? But anybody who has seen a zombie movie knows quite well that fully-stocked grocery stores would be abundant. And why would remaining humans be naked in the first place? Zombies want brains, not casual wear from Banana Republic.

Let’s face it. “Naked and Afraid” is more of a competition than reality. They ought to award a prize to the successful competitors. Like the $10,000 they give the winners of “Cupcake Wars” or “Forged in Fire.” Why should survivalists baring all be less deserving of a wad of cash than blacksmiths or dainty bakers? I know I wouldn’t survive twenty-one hours let alone twenty-one days without food, water, or clothing on a sun-parched island. But I bet I could do three weeks easy marooned in Wegman’s Food Market at room temperature.

The first thing I’d do is hit the clothing aisle, which begs the question—why don’t these Tarzan wannabes fashion some clothing? It would afford an easier challenge, I think, and as far as I know, making apparel is not against the rules. A few contestants have crafted loincloths, bikinis, shoes. Most do not, which strikes me as odd.

And despite the equatorial venues, temperatures still manage to frequently drop within a dozen degrees of freezing overnight. The narrator mentions hypothermia with regularity and the survivalists complain loudly about being too cold to sleep. I don’t entirely understand. I live in temperate Rochester, N.Y., and most summer nights the thermometer struggles to fall below 21 degrees Celsius. Maybe they should do an episode in my backyard.

Nonetheless, before you get the wrong idea, “Naked and Afraid” isn’t egregiously inhumane. They generously allow each survivalist to bring one item with them. But I’ve noticed that most participants opt for the practical: a machete, or a firestarter, or a steel pot. If it was me, I’d bring thirty pounds of dried meats, but that’s probably cheating. Challenge-takers undoubtedly have to sign some papers beforehand, and waive all responsibility on the part of the producers in the event they get mauled by wild animals.

Not every one of the recent spate of survival in the wild shows are as titillating (pun intended).

From 2006 until 2011, and now being rerun to death on BBC America is the more authentic survival documentary series, “Man vs. Wild,” starring the eponymous Bear Grylls, who has served with the British Special forces, climbed Mt. Everest, and explored the Arctic. According to the Wikipedia capsule summary: “a seasoned adventurer and survivalist deliberately strands himself in remote locales and makes his way back to civilization to provide in-depth advice for travelers who may find themselves lost on what was expected to be a routine hike or other trip.” As we all know, this is an all-too-common problem. When was the last time you found yourself lost in the middle of the Gobi Desert, right? So at least there is some educational value to this series.

I’m not a big fan of travel. Which is good. I get lost very easily and if it were not for my trusty GPS mounted on the dashboard of my car, I’d wind up in Buffalo trying to go five blocks to the druggist. Fortunately, we now have Google Earth, so I can practice driving to the nearest Home Depot in virtual space before I attempt the actual journey. It works!

Bear Grylls doesn’t carry a GPS, which is curious because unlike “Naked and Afraid” he isn’t naked (although he sometimes strips down for other reasons) and normally totes a backpack full to the brim with outdoor gear. Bear Grylls also breaks the fourth wall relentlessly, explaining to the television audience the nutritional value of a large grub, for example, that he pulled out from under the bark of a tree before swallowing the creature. He also describes the taste and texture of the impromptu meal. He’ll offer assistance to the photographers who, obviously, follow him and record his exploits.

“Here’s how to jump from twelve meters into a pool of undetermined depth and content,” he’ll explain to the audience. Say what?

In the same vein as “Man vs. Wild,” the Discovery Channel is currently airing the seventh season of “Dual Survival.” The twist this time is that two intrepid nature boys explain how to survive in a variety of perilous situations and make it back to civilization in one piece.

I used to get an enormous kick out of “Dual Survival” and watched it regularly when the dynamic duo consisted of Joseph Teti and Matt Graham. They added an unexpected layer of humor to the proceedings, almost like Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. Matt Graham actually does live alone in Utah’s wilderness for six months out of the year, you see. He’s also a longbow hunter, a world-class spear thrower, and a martial artist in judo, tae kwon do, and kung fu. So whenever the two got their shelter established, secured a source of water and food, Graham would suggest they “camp out for a few days,” much to Joe Teti’s chagrin.

Despite the endearing chemistry of this team, many complained that Teti, advertised as a Special Forces veteran, apparently did not have a curriculum vitae sufficiently bloodthirsty for them. This show has a long history of squabbles between the on-screen talent, or the stars and the producers, however, so it has undergone several cast changes since it premiered in 2010. The current headliners are, in my opinion, as dull as several hundred hectares of sagebrush, although primitive survival expert and instructor Bill McConnell appears to be a tree hugger and he thanks the carcasses of the animals he is about to eat. So there is that much.

Like the hosts of other survival shows, this “rewilding” duo openly addresses the audience with tips and techniques. “Here’s how to jump from twelve meters into a pool of undetermined depth and content,” they’ll explain to the camera. Say again?

My favorite of the current batch of survival-type shows isn’t all that much of a survival show. Survival is certainly at its core concept, but this show is largely ... get ready for it ... SCIENCE! “Experimental archaeologist Bill Schindler and primitive survival instructor Cat Bigney are attempting to follow in the footsteps of our ancestors. To live as they did. Through two-and-a-half million years of evolution. But in order to evolve, first they must survive.” Each episode is introduced with this voiceover. Now that’s what I call a concept. Airing on the National Geographic channel, “The Great Human Race” follows the ascent of man from the dawn of time to beyond the infinite.

Co-hosts Bill Schindler and Cat Bigney [preparing meat, at right] take on the roles of a different early human couple each week as they work their way along the evolutionary trail.

Dr. Bill Schindler is an Associate Professor of Anthropology and Archaeology at Washington College in Chestertown, Md. In 2014, he was awarded the Washington College Alumni Associated Distinguished Professor of the Year Award, and was nominated for the Carnegie-CASE-Phi Beta Kappa Professor of the Year Award. He is the currently the vice-chair of the Reconstructive and Experimental Archaeology Conference, and the vice-chair of EXARC.

Cat Bigney is head instructor at Boulder Outdoor Survival School in Utah (BOSS), where she has worked as a survival and primitive skills instructor since 2000. She has extensive remote medical training and also instructs for the Wilderness Medical Institute of NOLS. Cat has a degree in anthropology and Earth sciences.

In the very first episode, this more scientifically-oriented pair attempted to reenact the day-to-day life of one of our earliest ancestors—Homo habilis. There were hits and misses, but any missteps were forgivable. H. habilis did not have language; their skull structure was such that language would have been impossible. Nonetheless, Bill and Cat spoke. Like I said, hard to criticize. It would have been farcical to have them grunt and gesture throughout the episode. And who would have explained all the paleontological facts? The voice of God? Morgan Freeman? So it was right to have Bill and Cat point out that H. habilis was near the bottom of the food chain, that the species needed to find tall trees in which to safely spend the night, and that H. habilis did not routinely use tools.

Some nitpickers have pointed out that H. habilis did not also routinely wear clothing. Yet Bill and Cat are not naked. Anachronistic? Not really. H. habilis did have a sturdy fur coat that was weatherproof, warming, and protective. Bill and Cat, therefore, wore light animal hides which I think was a proper substitute; they can’t really grow a luxurious layer of hair all over their bodies, after all.

And notably, Bill and Cat, playing our distant progenitors, have not yet jumped blindly into any pools of murky water from scary heights. Which may be the reason that you and I are alive today.

Let me add, without spoilers, that in subsequent episodes, Bill and Cat evolve into Homo sapiens, fashion clothes, make tools and weapons, move out of Africa, transition from hunter gatherers into farmers and herders, cross the land bridge into North America, invent television, and decide to create a TV show about the ascent of the human race.

Sam Bellotto Jr.