We’ve been catching up on the latest season of Australian Survivor at our place. Yep - Survivor, the OG of reality TV competition. Never let it be said I’m not a traditionalist. But after only three episodes, I was already yelling at the TV in disbelief.
For the uninitiated, the premise is pretty simple: a bunch of contestants compete on an island, split into teams. The losing team goes to Tribal Council, where someone is secretly voted out. Game over for them.
Now, I suspect the producers initially thought this would be a straight-up popularity contest. But way back in 2000, the very first winner, Richard Hatch, cracked the code: form a secret alliance, control the vote, and dominate. It worked. He won. And that’s basically been the blueprint ever since.
So what’s got me shouting at the screen this season?
It’s the exit interviews. The first three people who got voted out, all after blatantly bad gameplay, have said the same thing:
“I have no regrets. I wouldn’t do anything differently.”
What? WHAT?!
You just got voted off the island. You were one of the first people sent packing. And you wouldn’t change anything?
Now look, if they said “I played with integrity and stuck to my word, even though it cost me the game, so I have no regrets” I could respect that. Values over victory – that I’d get.
But that’s not what this is. These players made objectively terrible decisions. Switched alliances for no reason other than to be “making moves”. Flashed secret advantages around like party tricks. Took wild swings that didn’t help them strategically. And predictably, it blew up. Yet still: “No regrets.”
Here’s the thing. If you can’t look back and say, “Yeah, that didn’t work: what can I learn from that?”... what’s the point?
There’s this idea that it takes 10,000 hours to achieve mastery. But that’s not 10,000 hours of just doing something. It’s 10,000 hours of intentional, reflective practice. Reviewing. Adjusting. Learning. That’s how you move forward.
And this is where ego gets in the way.
There’s a kind of defiance in pretending you didn’t mess up. Trying to protect some sense of identity that relies on being all awesome all the time. As if admitting a mistake somehow makes you lesser. But clinging to that mindset is a trap. You might convince the cameras, but lying in bed at night? Replaying it in your head over and over? You know.
The real way to build a strong identity is to build yourself into a learning machine. Someone who spots their mistakes, learns from them, and then lets them go.
I’ve often been asked if excellence is predictable. Whether it’s the white belt on Jiu Jitsu mat or the new hire in the sales team. Can you predict who will end up a “black belt” and outperform, and who will be coasting (or who just disappears). It’s a great question, and for me, it always starts with coachability.
How open are they to feedback? How willing are they to admit they don’t know everything?
Because that’s what bugs me about those Survivor contestants: they’re un-coachable. And as a coach at heart, invested in people’s success, I take that that personally.
If you can’t admit a mistake, no one can help you. And often, those who can admit it don’t need much help, they’re already on the path to mastery.
Their like heat-seeking missiles – constantly making small adjustments and readjustments to stay on track as they get closer and closer to the target.
That’s why I believe in giving salespeople a way to practice without the risk, tools like AI sales roleplay, where you can rehearse conversations, get instant feedback, and refine your approach before it counts.
As someone who makes my living sharing thoughts on human relationships and communication, I often joke that my addiction to reality TV is really just research. That’s only partially a joke. Case in point, this isn’t just about a reality TV show. It’s about what happens when ego blocks learning and what’s possible when you build a mindset that embraces the lesson in every loss.
Because if you truly want to win, on the island, in sales, in life, you’d better be willing to admit what’s not working and change your strategy.
The tribe has spoken.